#I’m actually terrified of what will happen to me when my parents die

[d3pressed-caffiene-addict]

Hazbin Hotel Ep 5&6 Oh My God (Major Spoilers)

I am having so many thoughts, this is just a brain dump

-LUCIFER. He’s so pathetic I love him

-Jeremy Jordan you fucking legend. I’m a big fan of a lot of his work and was excited to see him in this but I was slightly unsure if he was the right casting since I expected Lucifer to be more of a high and mighty/snobby figure, but with the way they characterised him HE IS PERFECT.

-“TAKE THAT DEPRESSION”

-The Lucifer vs Alastor rivalry is beautiful

-“Ha ha, fuck you.”

-Father figure Alastor

-HIS EARS GO BACK LIKE A CAT WHEN HES ANGRY I CANT

-MIMZY’S ARRIVAL. I know most of us know the lore about her and Alastor being developed as a couple before it was scrapped but I really like how they are in the show

-Even if it’s just crumbs I’m so excited to be getting snippets of Alastor’s lore. It’s wild to keep going back and forth between “aw he actually cares for and protects his friends” and “oh my god he’s a fucking psycho”

-Speaking of that the scene with Husk holy shit. Poor man looked terrified

-The confirmation that Alastor’s also stuck working for someone, it has to be Lilith surely. I know some people will call it predictable because a lot of theories are coming true but personally I think it’s from good worldbuilding/foreshadowing

-ALASTOR IN FULL DEMON FORM JUST ANNIHILATING EVERYONE and then he just goes “Ah that was fun, now back to it”

-I kinda like the parallel between Al and Mimzy & Angel and Cherri where they invite their friends to join them if they want to, even if neither of them take it up initially maybe we’ll see them join the hotel in the future?

-BABY CHARLIE

-I really expected Lucifer to be a dickhead and a shitty dad, but he seems to be an overall better guy than most people in hell

-CHERRI BOMB ARRIVAL! And she’s Aussie now fuck yeah represent

-I still love her and Angel’s friendship even if she is a terrible influence. Everyone’s got that friend who’s solution to a bad day is just self-destruction but they mean well at least

-DARREN CHRIS TOO, THE MUSICAL THEATRE/BROADWAY ACTOR CASTING IS STACKED

-Emily is so sweet I love her

-The Molly cameo is so sweet, I was waiting for her to appear somewhere but lowkey forgot she was in heaven. Honestly though how did she get there when the rest of her and Angel’s family got condemned for what they did together? Maybe she left the mob or something idk I just hope we get to meet her properly at some point

-Heaven’s real fucked up? Yeah not shocked

-VAGGIE?? FALLEN ANGEL REVEAL?? AND SHE WAS AN EXTERMINATOR???? I know most of us called it but holy shit I didn’t expect it to be confirmed this soon

-Adam is such a dick but he’s so much fun

-I love that Charlie was gonna start her court presentation with definitions like a high school essay

-“Consent is a good name for a sex club” the gentleman Husk truthers gonna have fun with this one

-Pentious hitting on Cherri is hilarious and totally not the same level of subtlety I flirt with when I’m drunk

-Hearing more and more about how Val treats Angel is so sad especially with how casually he talks about it since it’s just another day for him

-Him parenting drunk Nifty is beautiful

-“You wanna play with the kitty?”

-Valentino is my #1 enemy

-Seeing Angel stand up to him to protect his friends is making me feel feelings. Like he knows that he’s gonna be treated even worse for it but I think he’s reaching his tipping point and shits gonna go down soon

-Also I know there’s a popular theory that he’s gonna die soon and a lot of the theories are coming true so I am scared. I kind of don’t think this one’ll happen though since he’s the fan favourite and its just too soon to take that much of a risk. Plus Vivsie’s admitted he’s the best written character and it’d be such a waste of all that development

-More sweet moments between him and Husk, they’ve gotten me so invested in this ship so fast

-The fact that most of heaven didn’t know about the extermination?? Wild

-Idk how I feel about the timeskip between Ep 4&5, they’re only a month away from the extermination now. Yes it’s making the stakes feel higher but I do wish we’d been able to see more of that time for the relationship development, all the characters seem much closer than before and we’ve only seen bits of how they got there

-I really wish they’d greenlit more than 8 episodes to pace things a little better but I’m glad we have season 2 confirmed

-That last minute ‘reveal Vaggie’s past to Charlie, boot them out of heaven and then cut to credits before she can react’ is gonna torture me until next week

-I don’t disagree with past criticism that Vivzie’s female characters can feel a bit underwritten but I think it’s getting better

-“We’re coming to the hotel first” plus all the theories that someone’s gonna die are fucking stressing me out man

Anyway hope you enjoy the brain dump, this show has once again consumed my thoughts

#Hazbin hotel #vivziepop #helluva boss #Charlie Morningstar #angel dust #vaggie hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #nifty hazbin hotel #sir pentious #hazbin hotel mimzy #cherri bomb #huskerdust

[maccreadysbaby]

how do I write a character with emetophobia?

Writing Characters with Emetophobia!

from your neighborhood emetophobia haver, aka me!

TW for emetophobia things under the cut (emetophobia is a fear of vomit or vomiting)

so you want your character to have some quirky fear, and the fear of puking is what you landed on! I’m here to tell you what it’s like to have severe emetophobia and what that entails for my life. all of these struggles and symptoms are personal and doesn’t apply to everyone with emetophobia. it is a very individual phobia, this is just how my body and mind reacts

Living with Emetophobia ↴

this post has no real structure, it’s more or less just things that have happened to me. i’ve had this phobia since my inception, so here’s a list of things your characters with emetophobia might do.

Avoiding foods or actions that (probably won’t, but could) trigger sickness: I was terrified to eat anything that contained dairy because — one singular time — I heard that milk makes you throw up if you have a fever and I swore it off from the time I was 8 until I was about 12. I was literally nine years old reading labels in the store for dairy and violently throwing it back on the shelves if it contained it. Not to mention my mother was lactose intolerant (Which I’m not) but seeing her fall at the hands of dairy didn’t make me feel any better about it. During this phase I only ate about three things and you literally couldn’t get me to eat anything else to the point where I was nearly anorexic. Once my friend told me she coughed so hard she threw up and I didn’t let myself cough when I was sick for a long time after. I also ran away from anyone who coughed near me. (I was such a psycho.) Now I will eat most foods given to me, but if something repeatedly offends my stomach, I usually just stop. I’m not so dramatic about it anymore lol. (I am much healthier now, too.)

Literally running away from sick people: I will never forget one time, my brother got sick. I wasn’t even in the same room as him. My mom yelled “maccreadysbaby, can you bring me some wipes?” I did. And as soon as I saw what happened I threw them at her, ran across the house, hid behind the couch, covered my ears and started crying. Another time, my mom informed me that my brother had thrown up while I was not home for a few days, and I avoided him like the plague. Literally like I would die if I touched him. My parents stopped telling me if my siblings got sick while I was away after that. When I was in gradeschool, a classmate got sick on a Tuesday and I was fine for the rest of the week. Then I puked on Saturday. For years afterwards, if I was ever around a sick person, I’d always count four days and if I didn’t throw up on day four, finally relax. (Again, I was such a psycho.) This instinct is still here as an adult. For example, my sister just recently thought she was gonna get carsick (while I was in the back with her) and let me tell you I was so squished up to my door I couldn’t breathe. I still sort of do the day counting thing if I’m completely honest, but I’m not so terrified and incessant about it.

Thinking that they’re sick all the time: This was a terribly big thing for me. For a span of 5ish years, at the same time I swore off dairy, I basically categorized myself as gonna throw up all of the time, even when I was perfectly freaking fine. I woke up, assumed I would puke that day, because why wouldn’t I, and triggered my anxiety. Which would actually trigger stomachaches and stuff. I would sit on the stairs and beg and cry until my parents let me stay home from school, and we almost had to go to court for the amount of school I was missing because I pulled this crap every day. This phase of my life only ended when my mom took me to the doctor (while I was literally fine) and made him tell me I was just anxious and not actually going to puke. (As you can see, I was a very fun child to raise.) I don’t behave this way anymore, but if my stomach does hurt for some reason, I immediately spiral into oh SHITE not HAPPENING territory.

Have debilitating anxiety: This is one of the things on this list that still happens to me regularly. If my stomach hurts in any capacity (even on my period) I am immediately thrusted into I’m gonna freaking puke mode. I get really cold, start sweating, start trembling (like, shake the whole couch trembling) and just sit there while my anxiety eats my brain. I can’t move because some part of me thinks moving an inch is going to make me puke. No matter how much I tell myself you’re fine, you’re not going to puke, this happens to you every day and you haven’t thrown up since you were twelve, you’re being so dramatic, it doesn’t stop. I just have to sit there and wallow in my pain and anxiety until my stomach stops hurting. Then I laugh at myself for being stupid and move on, even though I routinely worry about it coming back throughout the day. If it does I rinse and repeat. If I do puke (which I fortunately haven’t done since I was twelve) I can confidently say there’d be a lot of crying and minimal screaming about how I’m gonna die.

Here’s a recent (as of literally this morning) emetophobic thought pattern for you to analyze, to help you understand what your characters minds might be doing when they’re freaking out:

I received a text that my cousin, who I saw last night, was throwing up. I was still asleep but I woke up and checked my phone anyways. This was my exact thought process.

oh SHITE I was around him, wasn’t I? Well, I guess not a lot, he spoke to me a few times and I was near him at the campfire, but I maybe not enough to make me sick. But you know who was around him? My freaking sister. And if she gets sick there’s no hope for me. oh my GOD does my stomach hurt right now? I think it does. Wait, shut up, maccreadysbaby, you’re being stupid. Think about something else and go back to sleep. Why are you SHAKING stop being so pathetic. Your stomach totally hurts right now. You have plans today maccreadysbaby you can NOT get sick you can NOT be the reason your plans are canceled. I’m totally going to throw up today as life’s way of spiting me. Shut up and go to sleep, you weren’t even around him. But I WAS we ALL were, sitting across the table doesn’t count as being far away. Maybe he just got carsick or has acid reflux or something. Today is Saturday so if I make it to Wednesday I should be fine. But what if I ACTUALLY throw up I don’t even want to think about it oh my God what if I do? Okay, you’re fine, shut up and go back to sleep.

I went back to sleep (eventually) and woke up twice more to go through that entire process again before my alarm went off. It’s basically that on repeat every time I hear of a sick person or my stomach hurts. Fun times 😬👍.

#life #writing help #writing angst #original writing #creative writing #writers #writing #writerscommunity #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing tips

[starryoak]

It’s bizarre to hear anyone talk about their experiences with their mortality or whatever, like, when they first conceived of death as a thing that could happen to Them Specifically, or like, when they started thinking about death more, and they mention like, their teen years, or their twenties, or their thirties, and I just… fundamentally cannot relate, because I first started conceiving of my own mortality when I was like 5 and my grandma died of brain cancer. My parents got me a book for children that had entirely developmentally appropriate information on what death was and how to process it, of course it brought up all the important stuff like that everybody dies and death is normal and all that shit, but as we were atheists and the book was also, presumably, for atheists, when it discussed what happens after you die it mentioned that some people believe that nothing happens after you die, IE; you just stop existing. And unfortunately, even at that age, I actually was entirely capable of understanding that “everybody dies eventually” also applied to me, and I put this together with the second bit of information that the book taught me, the concept of cessation of existence, and developed a lifelong crippling trauma.

Admittedly, it didn’t hit me in full force until my OCD got really severe in late elementary early middle school, but the idea of like, not having spent every night for years lying awake in crippling terror so severe it caused me actual physical burning pain over the fact that I have a finite ever decreasing time on Earth that even now is constantly ticking down with no way to stop it and no way to avoid it, and that in full likelihood that there’s nothing after death and there’s no afterlife whatsoever? It’s just hard to imagine for me. 

Like, I would literally just sit there counting down seconds thinking about how every second I get closer to death. I still get kind of triggered by counting numbers manually in general, because it so easily ties into a realization I had that I could easily go find a calculator for the average human lifespan in days and just count down the days until I die, and I just can’t imagine how anyone spends their life at least not a little terrified of that fact, the shortness of the human lifespan and how finite and entirely realistically countable that it actually is.

Even now that I’m mostly over it, I’m only mostly over it because I’m able to ignore it and get on with my day, rather than actually have come to terms with it, I just push the thoughts away whenever they come till the next time they come. I guess it’s just entirely baffling to me, to hear people talk about how they never processed their mortality as a kid, or how they just started thinking about it now that they turned 30, or almost anything about how most people talk about it in general, just because the idea of living your life not haunted by the omnipresent spectre of your own mortality is so completely foreign to how I’ve lived my life in complete and utter terror of how finite it is.

#death #thanatophobia #ocd #obsessive compulsive disorder #vent #mortality #potentially triggering #triggering themes #tw thanatophobia #my posts

[pianocat939]

Celina: *releases a little blurb about platonic yandere Donnie*

Her fans: *read it*

…

Her fans: *bowing down* oh sweet goddess of yandere fan fiction, we as your loyal fan base and vessels require a part two!

Celina: uh-

(I’m sorry. I had to write this, it was my first thought when I read your short blurb. It’s up to you if you wanna write more to it, you seem very busy so I won’t press. Enjoy your day ;) PS: yandere Mikey says if you don’t hydrate you will be bound down to a chair and be forced to attend his 6-hour-long seminar about why water is important for the human body. And yes, the word count is the same, if not more, as that of ‘The Odyssey’)

ugh- two more weeks before the musical and then I'll be free...except for studying for my AP exams-

1st part

Tw: implied forced mutation, abandonment, heavier angst than usual, brief mentions of death (but doesn't actually happen)

"Oh my god! What is that- that weird turtle creature?!"

"Get away! It might be dangerous!"

The child looks up at their parents in pain and in desperation. They were no longer human but now a turtle-human thing of some sort. But surely their own parents should recognize them right? But to their dismay, their parents dash away from them, terrified for their lives. Leaving the poor child alone and afraid: not used to their new form.

"Mom...Dad...but- but- it's still me." The young one begs quietly, a voice that of a whisp, tears streaming down their face at the realization that they were alone, and abandoned. They stare down at their hands, sorrow running through their mind. Their hands were no longer the five-fingered skin anymore; it was a shade of green, with only three fingers with scales dotting the surface. "How could this happen to me?"

The newly mutated turtle shuffles back into a corner, encompassing itself in the shadows, hiding their new form. It anxiously scratches its arm a bit, eyes darting everywhere around the landscape. "How am I gonna live? I'm...I'm just a kid still." More water droplets flow from their eyes, stinging their skin with unfamiliar wetness. They silently hunch over and stare at the ground, feeling a hole gaping in their stomach: their center feels chilled as if an actual hole was there. "I'm...I'm gonna die soon. There's no way I'll make it, not in this form."

"Not if an adult is willing to assist a child of need."

An unfamiliar voice speaks, and slowly a somewhat tall turtle mutant emerges from behind the wall. He kneeled down in front of the young one to make himself less intimidating. "Did...Did your parents leave you after you mutated?" He questions with a frown, his eyes seem to hold sympathy, an understanding of the pain the child is going through.

At that moment, they truly realized what had happened moments before. They were left behind, abandoned. Standing alone to fend off the world. They broke down completely, no longer leaking a few tears from their eyeballs, but a whole waterfall. They had nowhere to go, no one to talk to, just a pitiful form of an ugly turtle beast.

The man firmly hugs the small kid, patting their shell gently. "I know you don't know me at all, but...I'm willing to fill in the role of a parent." He offers, voice gently and warm in attempt to comfort the poor emotional wreck. "I'll...I'll teach you the life of living as a mutant, and I promise, you'll be safe and taken care of." He notices the child relaxing a bit and gingerly rocks them while they lean into his embrace.

"So...Will you trust me?" He hesitantly asks, patiently waiting for their response.

For a few moments there's a silence before the young one answers, "I'll trust you."

The older man smiles and nods in confirmation. "I'm Donatello. You can call me Donnie if you would like, or any title you wish to name your newly appointed guardian." He stands up and motions the little kid to follow him as he saunters, ensuring his new family member can keep up. "What's your name?"

"Y/n." Their voice is still raspy from crying, but there's a sense of warmth in it: hope. They pursue him, feeling an odd safety to the man. "You have a lot of gadgets on you, are you a scientist?" They interrogate, pointing at his arm brace.

Donatello grins in pride and joy, "Why yes, little turtle. I love science, and I make lots of technological inventions; it is my passion."

"Cool! I like science too!" They cheer quietly, excited that their new protector has a similar interest in science.

The inventor laughs in a proud matter, staring down at the little one in a loving, fatherly matter. "Then you'll be ecstatic to see all my inventions, I just know it."

He had done it. This wonderful child was now his. His to take care of, protect, and to love. They'll no longer have to suffer that neglectful world their parents once reinforced. They can just stay in their father's embrace, and watch rockets fly as a pass time.

What a wonderful unification.

——————————————————

I do love myself a good angst piece- needless to say I enjoyed writing this- now I shall sleep, it's 2 AM.

I think I might have a little talent in angst writing-

- Celina

#asks #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere rottmnt #yandere tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt #rottmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2018 #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #yandere donnie #donnie x reader

[bnha-more-like-bnh-gay]

Tw: izuku’s self sacrificial tendencies and low self esteem

Izuku being so self sacrificial and just 1000% willing to die for his friends, and really just for anyone, and his friends are so fucking stressed about it :/

Like. It’s so unhealthy, but this kid is just willing to die to protect his friends and genuinely doesn’t understand why it freaks them out. He one time tells them point blank, “I’d die for you” and doesn’t understand why they’re like, “maybe let’s not do that????” He’s just so used to people not caring if he dies, and he thinks that it’s an okay/healthy way to show love and affection

Like, I imagine it is most detrimental with kiri, Shouto, Iida, Uraraka, Aoyama, and tsu. Like kiri is so insistent on telling izuku how manly he is, and how he admires him, and he starts to see how little izuku values his own life and it freaks him out. Like, izuku just doesn’t understand why they’re all telling him to stop and slow down, or why he needs to not jump into fights without backup. But instead keeps telling them that he’d be fine if he died protecting his friends, and it’s so earth shattering to them all

Shouto understands a bit more where izuku is coming from, but he is just so terrified of losing his first friend. Todoroki “ride or die” Shouto does NOT approve. He tries to stop izuku from putting up with bakugou’s bullshit too. He can see how bakugou impacts izuku’s mental health, and he’s the first one to try and separate them and keep izuku out of harms way. Because he knows what being around someone who torments you does to a person, and izuku, who’s so idiotically brave and kind, who sticks his nose in other people’s business for the sake of heroism and wanting them to feel safe, fucking deserves to have the same kind of annoying, amazing, really fucking odd help and support. And if Shouto can provide it, then of course he will

Iida has seen first hand how willing izuku is to jump in to protect his friends-they all have, but I’m talking about the hosu incident-and he’s so grateful for izuku helping him there, but Jesus does it terrify him how izuku just keeps doing it with no regards for his own life. He almost lost tensei, he can’t lose izuku

Uraraka knows how strong izuku is, they all do, but this dude is stressing her the fuck out with his lack of self preservation. She needs her best friend alive, thank you??? She admires him so much in the beginning, his bravery and heroic personality, and that continues, but she’s coming to realize that some of that bravery comes from such a horrible place of not caring if he lives or dies and she’s horrified

Aoyama. The fucking guilt he has right now. Because he knows where izuku is coming from to some degree, and he knows that it’s partially his fault. That if he wasn’t in cahoots with the L.O.V., izuku wouldn’t be so. Like this. He’s not stupid, he knows he’d still be like this. But he wouldn’t have the added pressure of wanting to protect Aoyama, his friend. And Aoyama doesn’t know what to do because he has to help keep his parents safe, but holy shit, what if izuku actually gets killed??

Tsu is rational, but she’s also good at looking at things from other people’s perspectives. But it just hurts so much to see how izuku views his self worth. She understands to a degree, because he grew up with pretty shitty influences (bakugou, the entirety of Aldera middle school, etc.), but she also does. Not. Get. It. She doesn’t want to get it. She loves her friends, and she knows they’re strong, hell, she’s strong as hell, but it’s just terrifying that this 16 year old, who is one of her best friends, who has saved all of their lives several times, is just so. Lackluster when it comes to keeping himself safe.

Mic (because it wouldn’t be one of my rants if I didn’t include my desire for this man to adopt me, but since that can’t happen, we project into also wanting him to adopt izuku) is just so devastated that this kid, a fucking child, a baby has to fight in a goddamn war. This is ridiculous. But just that he’s also so willing to die for literally anyone???? He’s seen where that got Oboro, and fuck if it doesn’t terrify him that, what if the green bean gets irrevocably hurt?? He’s such a kind, and thoughtful, and smart kid, but he’s also so fucking stupid. He doesn’t even mean it as an insult, it’s just so frightening that this child he’s supposed to be protecting is taking it upon himself to try and fix this major issue that has gotten multiple adults, pro-heroes, killed, maimed, and otherwise injured. AND HE IS A 16 YEAR OLD WITH A SHIT LOAD OF TRAUMA. FUCK. And he can’t even do much to try and keep him out of harms way! Hell, the kid isn’t even in his homeroom! But the war is coming and he can’t keep any of the kids away from it, and that’s even worse.

#tw: self worth issues #tw: mentions of death #this isn’t taken from experience haha what are you talking about? #someone: *shows basic human kindness* #me: I want you to know that I’d willingly lay down my life for you #I’m not projecting. i would never. #bnha #mha #izuku problem child midoriya #Todoroki ride or die Shouto #midoriya izuku #uraraka ochako #dadmic #yamadad #yuga aoyama #iida tenya #kirishima ejiro #asai tsuyu #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki

[starlitangels]

I Promise

To be clear, I refuse to care about Blake. However, I am deeply fascinated by his relationship with his listener

This one is from Blake’s POV, by the way. And I made up a lot of stuff for the sake of it 1.5k words

—

You sit beside me at the movie theater the way you always do. You smile and laugh at the jokes, glancing at me to make sure I’m sharing in your humor. My mom will come pick us up after the movie the way she always does when we’re out like this. Too young to drive ourselves.

I sit in the dark, smiling in all the right places back at you, but I can’t pay attention to the movie, this time. I already Saw the whole thing the second you decided we were going to come watch it together.

And I think about telling you.

Hell, I think about it all the time. Ever since that day a few years ago when my Core woke up and my entire life got flipped on its head.

I’d expected to be a Dreamwalker, like my mom. Although, being a Freelancer like Dad wouldn’t have been bad either. But, according to one of our teachers at school, a Freelancer-specialist coupling often resulted in the offspring taking the specialty, rather than a Freelancer’s unspecialized magic. For reasons no one particularly understood. Magic was genetic, but it also wasn’t. Not entirely, anyway. And despite hundreds of studies, no one had ever figured out the patterns.

That night, you’d gone home after doing your homework at my place like we did every couple days. I’d been alone in my bedroom, my parents out for the night. Mom to work with her Defensive Dream Design clients, Dad at the Healing hospital.

No one was there for me when my chest burned like fire and the entire timestream opened up before my eyes.

You got your powers a few months before I did—and I’d been jealous. I wanted mine to manifest so badly.

And then when they did, I’d wished they hadn’t. Because of what I was.

The first thing a Seer is supposed to See when their Sight manifests is their own death. But as the timestream hurdled past me toward my death, I saw yours. Way too young. I saw the both of us, older than we are now, in this movie theater. I saw you in my arms, unmoving. Dead. I saw myself sobbing, pleading, begging you to stay with me.

It passed like a flash of lightning on my way to Seeing my own death, but the image was burned into my mind. Like someone tattooed it on the back of my eyelids. Every time I closed my eyes I saw you, dead, in my arms.

I still do.

I can’t let it happen.

And, God, have I tried to stop it. Not even sixteen yet and I’ve already tried setting things in motion that would prevent you from dying.

It hasn’t worked yet. It’s just changed the background of the image and the details of the injuries on your body. But it will work. I refuse to accept otherwise. You’re my best friend, and I’m not letting that go. I’ve never had a friend as close as you are. I can’t lose you.

You grab my arm, jolting me out of my thoughts, as you laugh so hard you bend in half. I manage a chuckle, agreeing that the moment on screen was funny. Even with my mind spiraling far away.

I think about telling you, again.

Would it really be so bad if I told you I’m not actually a Dreamwalker? I’ve never had the courage to peek and See how you’d react to the news. But you’re my best friend—surely you’ll be willing to accept me as I am, right? Even if I have lied to you for a couple years? Hiding their specialty is just what Seers do. Maybe not all of us, but a good portion of us never reveal our true nature. Live and die hiding behind another specialty.

The night my powers manifested, I’d been terrified. And desperately wishing I was just a Dreamwalker. I felt my aura shift, but didn’t realize what it had done until Mom came home the next morning, delighted in announcing I’d inherited her magical specialty.

My parents still don’t know. And neither do you.

I’d rather you know than them, to be honest. I love my parents, but I trust you more than anyone else.

I think about telling you, right here. In the movie theater. In the middle of the comedy you’ve been so excited to see since we first saw the trailer. I think about leaning forward where you’re still bent a bit in your laughter, and just whispering, “I’m not a Dreamwalker. I’m a Seer. And I’ve been hiding because I’ve been scared. But I’m not scared of you.”

But I don’t.

I settle back against the back of my chair and stare blankly at the screen. At the movie I’ve already Seen. Funny enough, I guess. But definitely more aligned with your sense of humor than mine. Ours cross over a lot, but not everything you find funny amuses me, and vice versa.

It’s enough though. And I’ll never turn down the opportunity to spend time with you.

No matter how wracked with guilt I feel every second I lie to you about what I am.

I’m tempted, not for the first time, to See how you’d respond to the truth. A small peek into the future. I can’t imagine you wouldn’t accept me but at the same time I don’t want to destroy your trust.

A problem that I’m fully aware will only amplify the longer I keep the secret from you. But if you never find out... maybe there’s no reason to worry.

But still...

I shake my head to clear it. You glance over at me with a curious look on your face. I shake my head one more time. It’s nothing, the gesture says. Your eyes, so open and trusting, linger on mine for a few moments before drifting back to the movie in acceptance.

I pretend I don’t remember the look of the light in those eyes of yours fading out in dozens of visions. I pretend I don’t see another one of the same vision bubbling up after looking at you for long enough.

God—what am I gonna do? I have to save you. But I don’t know how.

I’ll figure it out. Some way. Somehow. You’re not dying in my arms if I can help it.

I promise.

I care about you too much to let that happen.

—

My emotional state has been an absolute wreck since senior year of high school. That night when my parents weren’t home—again—and you and I...

Well. You call it a mistake. I call it a realization. That my feelings for you have possibly always been more than friendship. Or, at least, at some point they developed a depth I hadn’t known until that night senior year.

And I’d scared you. And you pulled away. And I wanted to be fine with that. But when you finally started to come back into my life, I was scared as my feelings for you hit me again.

And I pulled away.

I never told you that my pulling away was dual-intentioned.

See, I’d started to suspect that I couldn’t do more than change the circumstances of your death because I was still part of your life in those visions. I’m always the common factor.

So I withdrew from your life, trying to change your future. I thought maybe you’d be safe if I was no longer in your life. And you were angry with me when I retreated. You had every right to be and I still don’t blame you.

But if it meant saving your life, I had to try. I could leave, if it meant you’d live.

Months passed. You’d stopped trying to reach out. It broke my heart when you finally gave up on me. When I dared to try to text you and found you’d blocked my number.

Finally, I’d looked into your future again.

And nothing had changed. Just the background and the injuries. You were still dying in my arms. Even without being part of your life anymore.

I couldn’t stand it anymore. Being away from you. I had to come back.

You bless me by accepting me into your life again within a few days. You listen when I explain myself. Everything but that deepest nugget of truth about my magic that I still haven’t told you, more than ten years after the movie theater where I sat there and thought about it for two hours.

But your feelings... they’ve grown to match my own for you. When I kiss you, you let me. When I bend you back over your sofa, you lie down and pull me close.

When we wake up together in your bed, that wrecked emotional state of mine has settled a bit, but still roils.

The need to protect you from that early, untimely death has never been stronger.

Whatever I need to do, I will do it. To keep you safe.

I promise.

#Redacted ASMR #fic #Redacted Blake #Redacted Bestie #Redacted Audio #Starlit Fic

[meganwasbored]

The Dragon Prince Thoughts Season 3 Episode 9

-THIS IS IT

-wait does he actually have to paint the symbols on his arms to get the spell to work or is he just trying stuff because if he does does that mean that ibis has them tattooed on his arms or something? that made no sense i should probably watch more than 5 seconds before i start making stuff up

-WAS HE ABOUT TO SAY I LOVE YOU

-soren’s character development from season 1 to now is incredible i went from being slightly annoyed by him to loving every second he’s on screen

-is it just me or is aaravos’s snake form thing longer than it was last episode

-OMG CALLUMS TRANSLATING I JUST REMEMBERED GREN ISNT HERE WHERE IS HE

-won’t they all die on the way up because of the air or does their demon form change that

-THE LAST DRAGON GUARD

-wait why is callum down here i thought the plan was for him to stay near the top to pick them off on their way up

-SERIOUSLY WHO IS THIS GUY

-claudia carrying the whole army rn

-NOOOOO NOT THE DRAGONS

-IDC IF HES THE KING HES STILL A CHILD GET EZRAN OUT OF THERE

-“it’s going to be okay, wee fella” not when the thousands of demon soldiers burst through that doorway

-ok so the rainbow lighting did nothing but at least it was pretty

-THERE ISNT A SINGLE PERSON WITH CALLUM???? THEY LITERALLY JUST DROPPED HIM OFF LIKE “YOURE ON YOUR OWN KID SEE YOU IF YOU SURVIVE”

-everyone could just swarm kasef and claudia for a second and it would solve 90% of our problems

-callum why do still you have your emotional support sketchbook on you in battle i feel like that’s just slowing you down buddy

-AANYA WHERE DID YOU COME FROM

-THE MOST ICONIC CHARACTER AND I MEAN THAT MY QUEENNNN

-IM SPEECHLESS OMG

-I CAME HERE FOR RAYLLUM BUT I STAYED FOR THE BROYALS

-CRYINGGGGGG GREN AND AMAYA BACK AGAIN I FORGOT HE PROBABLY THOUGHT SHE WAS DEAD SINCE THE VOLCANO

-SKBAIFBEODBDOSNDOSJWLWHAODH

-THE ELVES BOWING TO EZRAN

-EZRAN THE BATTLE LITERALLY JUST ENDED YOU CANT JUST RUN OFF ON YOUR OWN LIKE THAT

-WHAY WAS VIREN HIDING UNDER A BLANKET AND WHY WAS CLAUDIA WALKING AWAY FROM HIM WHAT IS GOING ON

-NO WORDS THIS IS TRULY SORENS EPISODE

-THE AMOUNT OF SOUL CRUSHING TRAUMA HE JUST WENT THROUGH IN THE PAST HOUR

-THIS ONLY TERRIFIES ME BECAUSE I ALREADY KNOW HES GONNA SURVIVE SO WHAT HORRIBLE THING IS CLAUDIA GONNA DO TO MAKE THAT HAPPEN

-ALSO SOMEONE LITERALLY JUST GOT STABBED RIGHT BEFORE EZRANS EYES POOR BABY

-SHUT UP HOW DID I NOT SEE THAT COMING

-HOW DID HE GET UP THERE

-RAYLA IS IN THE EXACT SAME POSITION HER PARENTS WERE IN THIS SPOT I DONT LIKE WHERE THIS IS GOING

-HARVEST????? CONSUME??????

-BAIT OMG

-IM SO DUMB HER PARENTS ARE COINS LIKE RUNAAN ARENT THEY

-I HATE THIS I HATE THIS I HATE THIS

-I WENT INTO THIS THINKING I ALREADY KNEW MOSTLY EVERYTHING THAT WAS GONNA HAPPEN AND I WAS SO SO WRONG

-BAITS FACE WHEN RAYLA CALLED HIM A HERO

-PUT ZYM DOWN RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME I WILL KILL YOU THROUGH THE SCREEN

-OKAY I KNOW SHES GONNA SURVIVE THIS AND YOU KNOW SHES GONNA SURVIVE THIS BUT SHE DOESNT KNOW SHES GONNA SURVIVE THIS WHICH MEANS SHE JUST SACRIFICED HER LIFE FOR THAT DRAGON

-THE FACT THAT HE DIDNT EVEN THINK TWICE ABOUT JUMPING AFTER HER

-pause can we talk about how strong rayla is to hold herself up like that i’d be dead

-this is the one time the “we beat the unbeatable villain through ✨the power of love✨” trope is acceptable

-this is awesome and all and i’m loving every second of it but why are we acting like everything is okay it’s not claudia is still out there with a super powerful staff that could destroy that whole cave with all of you in it if she gets up there

-also i can’t be that only one who doesn’t see the point of this baker like i feel like they just put him here because they can he serves literally no purpose

-wow very convenient of you to wake up right after the battle is over it’s not like you couldve been a huge life saving help anyway😐

-ZYM IS LITERALLY THE SIZE OF THE QUEENS EYEBALL I CANT

-i’m sorry i still can’t get over the fact that the dragons can talk i don’t know how to feel about it

-claudia’s hair is now half white i don’t like this

-if aaravos hatches out of that cocoon i’m gonna lose my freaking mind

-my word that was a lot

-you’re telling me y’all had to wait 3 YEARS after this cliffhanger for season 4???? i’m suddenly very glad i didn’t start watching until now i don’t think i could’ve handled that

#tdp #tdp thoughts #tdp season 3 #tdp thoughts season 3 #the dragon prince #the dragon prince thoughts #the dragon prince season 3 #the dragon prince thoughts season 3

[furiousgoldfish]

(tw death threats)

I struggled to feel as if my fear was rational in the situations where the parents would threaten me, but never quite followed up on a threat. There are always excuses and defense for the abusers when they do this, like, ‘I’ll kill you’ was obviously a joke, they didn’t mean it!’ or ‘you just took it seriously, they never meant to actually hurt you’.

But what I felt at the time of the threat, was absolute terror and conviction that it would happen, because my parents did a lot of traumatic stuff without even threatening it, and it was hard to believe their threats were jokes or something they didn’t mean; the air around them was cold and lethal, and I could often feel the intent, the hatred and the desire to harm. They in fact, looked as if they were only barely restraining themselves from physically ending me.

So why is it so terrifying if the parents didn’t actually ‘mean’ it, and am I unreasonably being trapped in flashbacks where I feel like I’m about to be killed, if my parents never actually meant to do it?

The threats they make are never just for jokes, they’re meant to establish control. They knew the threat would make me freeze in terror, and then they would be able to get me to do anything, get away with anything, or stop me from doing anything or saying anything, because I would be in the fight-flight-freeze-fawn response, and wouldn’t be able to do anything that risks my getting alive out of there.

I realized today that it’s not much different from being held at a gunpoint. The person holding a gun might not actually plan to shoot, they might have completely different plans and have no intention of killing you at that moment. But for you, it doesn’t matter. You’re held at a gunpoint. You can feel your life ending at any second. You can’t risk a movement, a sound, or a twitch that would cause it to happen. The person holding a gun can control you completely, because you’re trapped in your survival response. They have the means to end your life, and are threatening it. You are controlled against your will, with your life hanging above your head. Whether they mean to shoot or not, does not mandate whether you have the right to be traumatized by it, you’re traumatized by default, from being held in a death threat. It’s exactly what they want you to be, terrified out of your mind, believing you’re about to die, so that they can take control of your actions and get whatever they want out of you.

So it doesn’t matter if the abusers didn’t have an intent to follow thru. The threat for you was real, just as was your survival response that allowed them control. Every single threat is real to you, even the one they said laughing, even the one they claim later was a joke. They didn’t say it for no reason. They wanted for you to be threatened and unable to escape from their control.

#tw death threats #abusive parents #psychological abuse #child abuse #abused child #cptsd #tw gunpoint #threatened child #fight flight freeze fawn #ptsd

[onceuponastory]

i only wanna talk to you - steve harrington x reader

The only thing I'm really sure of I'm unsure of almost everything But I know, I know, I only wanna talk to you - i only wanna talk to you by the maine

Plot: A month after Vecna has been defeated, and the world has been saved once more, Steve and Y/N find comfort in each other...and just maybe, they’ll finally tell each other the truth about what’s in their letters from Max. This is part two of my fic ‘Words Left Unsaid’, so please read that first here if you haven’t already! Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of death but no further character death than what’s canon in the show, because if any of my faves die I’m never watching this show again, and all the trauma, nightmares, injuries and scars Y/N, Steve and all the others have after the events of this season, and the show in general. As always, please let me know if I’ve missed any triggers. Notes: A few people requested a part two to Words Left Unsaid with a love confession, so here we go! Sorry it took me a while. Dividers made by my bestie @thesundrop. Not beta’d, so all mistakes are my own.​

One Month After Vecna’s Defeat

It took them longer than expected, but finally, the Hawkins Gang defeated Vecna with no further loss of life. And after a while, things in Hawkins went back to normal. Or at least, as close to ‘normal’ as possible. Actually, Hawkins hasn’t been normal for a while. But there aren’t any monsters trying to kill everyone anymore, so at least that’s something positive. Y/N sits on her family’s porch seat, watching as the world goes by. The world she helped save. Nervously, she fiddles with the hem of her cardigan as she looks around her. Even trying to relax is impossible now, because after surviving something like this, Y/N’s terrified it’ll happen again, so she wants to make sure she’s prepared for every possible outcome. After all, the Mind Flayer came back, so who’s to say Vecna won’t?

Even so though, Y/N just wants to be able to stop thinking about demons and monsters trying to kill her friends and family. At this rate, just one day free of worrying about The Upside Down and everything involved with it would be perfect. As she scans her surroundings once more, Y/N catches sight of the plate of cookies left on the table by her mom. She brought her them in the hopes they make her feel better. Y/N sighs. By this point, her parents have noticed something’s going on with her. Then again though, since Y/N spends most of her nights being wide awake and too afraid to sleep, or awoken by nightmares when she does manage to fall asleep, it’s pretty obvious something is wrong with her. They’ve tried their best to offer her their love and support as best they can, and she does appreciate it...but there’s no way she can tell them everything she’s seen and what she’s so afraid of. They’ll think she’s crazy.

Sighing, Y/N wraps her cardigan closer around herself, hoping that it shields her from the chilly Hawkins wind…or that it’ll somehow act like a safety blanket, protecting her from all the death and destruction she’s witnessed up until this point, and that still haunts her every waking moment. If only things were that easy, and stuff like that actually worked.

Thankfully, before Y/N can think much more about the things she’s seen, the sound of a car pulling up her drive fills the air. A car that she knows all too well, and the very sight of it makes her feel better already. Steve steps out, his trademark quiff the same as ever. Y/N’s heart starts to flutter as he walks up her drive, and Max’s words from her letter fill her mind again.

“So please Y/N, for me. Tell Steve that you love him.” Y/N frowns. She said that she didn’t want to tell him the truth whilst everything with Vecna was going on…so now that it’s over, is it finally time to admit it? Now, though, Y/N’s afraid that Steve won’t feel the same about her. 

Soon, Steve’s standing in front of her. At the sight of him, Y/N sighs. He might look the same as usual, but Y/N can tell that the past few weeks have been haunting him. Steve looks exhausted, and his usual cheerful demeanour is gone. The deep red scar from Vecna’s vines is still visible across his neck, despite Steve’s clear attempt to hide it with his sweater. Of course, Y/N knows that after being through the same thing, she doesn’t look that good either, and she definitely has scars of her own, but seeing Steve so different, so…empty, is quite unsettling. What they’ve been through with Vecna really has changed them all.

“Hey Steve.” 

“Hey. I just thought I’d visit everyone and see how they’re holding up. Saved you for last.” He chuckles, and Y/N even manages a small smile. Although everything about them both has changed, at his heart, Steve’s still the same protector he always was. He’s still the same Steve Harrington she fell in love with. “So, are you alright?” Steve asks. Y/N can tell that Steve knows it’s a dumb question. After going through what they did, it would be hard for anyone to be okay. But it’s a better question than “Hey, how are you feeling after a monster that preys on people’s guilt and insecurities almost killed us all?” And besides, Steve is trying, and she appreciates his concern and his need to check up on her.

“I don’t know.” She admits. “My scars haven’t faded yet. I’m still having nightmares, and every time I visit my grandma and her clock chimes, I jump about five feet in the air. I think my mom thinks I need an exorcism by this point.” Y/N and Steve laugh at her admission. It feels weird to be laughing at something like this, but Y/N is grateful for it. At least they both have something to laugh and smile about. “Enough about me. How are you doing, Steve?”

“I’m….” Steve trails off, and Y/N notices his smile faltering. It’s only then that she remembers that this isn’t Steve’s first experience with stuff like this. Despite how hard he tried to put on a brave face and act like he still has remnants of his King Steve persona, it’s clear that everything Steve has gone through still haunts him. “Okay? I think?” Steve answers. Y/N’s face softens.

“Steve, it’s okay not to be okay. I’m here if you need to talk to someone.” 

“I know. I’m just not ready yet.” He sighs. Y/N nods in understanding. “I’ll, uh, I’ll let you get back to whatever it is you’re doing. See you around, Y/N.” Steve waves, turning back towards his car. Quickly, she stands up, unwilling to let Steve leave just yet. Not only because she’s still head over heels in love with him, but because she doesn’t want to be alone right now. And she knows that deep down, Steve doesn’t want to be alone either. And thankfully, since she and Steve have both been through the same thing, it means they can actually talk about how they feel, and the other will understand them.

“Steve, wait!” She calls, and he turns around, frowning. “Would you like to sit with me for a while? We don’t have to talk or anything, it’s just nice to have company. My mom made cookies earlier, and you can have some if you want.” She offers. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be nice, thanks.” He smiles, walking back up the stairs to her porch and sitting beside her. “And I do love your mom’s cookies, so I’m mostly staying for those.” He jokes.

“Gee, thanks.” Y/N rolls her eyes jokingly, but still can’t stop herself from giggling. In all honesty, since everything happened, Y/N hasn’t been able to laugh as much as she used to, if ever. Now though, hearing the sound of her laughter filling the air makes her feel happy, and that things will be okay again. And it’s all thanks to Steve. 

Now if only she could tell him the truth about how she feels.

Y/N and Steve sit together for a while, watching as the residents of Hawkins get on with their lives. Although she is glad to see the world get back to semi-normality, Y/N’s jealous of those who have no idea of The Upside Down, or of anything else she and her friends have dealt with. Sometimes, Y/N wishes she could be like them: ignorant to what’s going on. To not have to go to bed every night wondering if she’ll wake up in the morning, or that she’ll be able to go anywhere alone without the threat of being attacked by a monster. There’s no way she can ever live a normal life after this. Her eyes look back over at Steve. 

Then again, if she hadn’t been dragged into this, then she would’ve never met Steve. And without Steve, she wouldn’t have so many good memories of them both, and they wouldn’t be sitting here on her porch together. Even though the pair have mostly been sitting in silence, it’s a comfortable silence, and they both feel safe in each other’s presence. Because maybe they don’t have to say anything to each other. All that matters is that they know the other understands what they’re going through, and that’s more than enough.

“Y/N?” Steve murmurs.

“Hmm?” 

“I um. I have something I need to tell you.” Immediately, that makes her heart start racing again. Vecna might be gone, but what if he’s back? Or what if there are more monsters? More unexplained things? Seeing the fear on her face, Steve’s eyes widen. “No! Shit, no, not like that. It’s not bad.” That makes her frown, because knowing Steve, it could be anything from Family Video still doesn’t have her favourite movie back in stock, or that he’s going away to college and leaving Hawkins and her for good. Hopefully, it’s not the last one. Because even after everything she’s been through, losing Steve Harrington in her life is something that Y/N knows she won’t ever be able to handle.

“Okay, what is it?” Steve’s cheeks flush a little, and he runs his hand through his hair.

“Well.” He takes a deep breath. However, before he can continue his explanation, the sound of a door opening interrupts them.

“Alright kids, just letting you know dinner is almost ready.” Y/N’s mom announces with a smile. Y/N sighs. Trust her mom to ruin the moment. “Do you want to call your parents and ask if you can stay for dinner, Steve?” 

“Well….” Steve trails off, and Y/N raises a brow. “My parents aren’t home right now. They’re on a trip.” Y/N’s heart breaks at that comment. Steve’s been through so much pain and trauma recently, including almost fucking dying at the hands of the demobats, and he has to deal with it alone because his parents care more about a trip than his wellbeing. Sure, Y/N can’t tell her parents about all the horrors she’s seen, but at least they’re there if she needs them, even if it’s just for a chat. Meanwhile, Steve’s been left in that big house to deal with this all on his own. He takes care of everyone else, but there’s nobody there to look out for him. “It’s okay though! I was just gonna order some pizza and chill.” Steve insists. Despite his insistence, Y/N swears she sees a look of sadness cross his face, one that breaks Y/N’s heart all over again. She stares into his brown eyes, hoping that Steve knows just how loved he is, and how she’ll take care of him. Immediately, Y/N’s mom’s smile drops. 

“Oh no, honey, absolutely not. I’m not letting you go home alone without some food in your stomach. You’re staying. It’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes.” She announces, disappearing back inside and closing the door before Steve can say anything. His cheeks flush pink again.

“Is it alright for me to stay? I don’t want to intrude on your dinner.” In response, Y/N gives him a look.

“Steve. Don’t be silly, you could never intrude. And besides, my mom loves you. You’re like her honorary son. If she could, she’d have you over all the time.” Of course, Y/N would love to have Steve over all the time too, but she decides not to tell him that just yet. 

If only she could know what he wanted to tell her.

After dinner, which Y/N spent most of trying to figure out what Steve wants to tell her, and how to admit her feelings for him, she and Steve are back on the porch. A blanket covers their legs, protecting them both from the chilly Hawkins evening air. “God, your mom is a fucking amazing cook. I couldn’t eat anything more.” Steve moans happily, and Y/N chuckles.

“Knowing her, she’s probably packing up leftovers for you to take home with you.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say no!” Smiling, Y/N looks up at the sky. The sun is almost set, and it bathes the sky in pinks and oranges. Y/N sighs happily. With everything going on, she almost forgot how beautiful Hawkins nights can be. She glances back over at Steve, who’s also staring at the sky, a look of wonder on his face. He’s bathed in the sky’s glow, and Y/N feels her breath hitching in her throat. He looks gorgeous. A night like this is especially more beautiful when you’re sharing it with someone you love. Suddenly, something brushes her hand, and Y/N jumps slightly…until she realises that it’s Steve’s hand. “Oh shit, sorry.” Steve murmurs, hiding his face from her. Before Y/N can say anything, Steve removes his hand, and she sighs. She liked the sensation of his hand touching hers, his fingers gently tracing along her skin. It gave her shivers, but the good kind this time.

“It’s okay Steve.” She smiles, but he doesn’t put his hand back. 

“So please Y/N, for me. Tell Steve that you love him.” Max’s words echo in her mind once more, and Y/N takes a deep breath. Maybe it is time to tell him the truth, even though she’s still terrified about it. But first, she has ask him something.

“Steve? What was it you wanted to tell me?” His eyes widen a little.

“Oh, right. Remember that night when we read Max’s letters?” She nods. “Well, I wasn’t entirely honest about what was in mine. And now, I think it’s time I tell you the truth.” Steve takes a breath. “I like you Y/N.” Somehow, her heart almost stops and also starts pounding all at the same time. Steve keeps talking, and Y/N’s not even sure if she takes the words in, too shocked by his admission to even formulate any words yet. “I tried to hide my feelings from everyone, but Max found out and told me to tell you. That’s what was in my letter.” He chuckles. “I didn’t say anything because I was too worried you wouldn’t feel the same and that you’d be in danger, especially with Vecna on the loose. Now it’s all over though, and because you’ve always been so kind and supportive to me, I realised I didn’t want to go another day without telling you the truth. I know you might not feel the same, but I just had to tell you.” He whispers his next words: “I’m in love with you, Y/N Y/L/N.” Steve smiles, clearly thankful for finally getting that weight off of his chest.

Meanwhile, Y/N blinks in surprise. She tries desperately to put together a response in her head, yet comes up blank each time. It feels like her brain is screaming at her. Noticing her silence, Steve sighs sadly. “Look, it’s late. I better go. Tell your mom I said thanks for the food.” As Steve is about to get up and leave, Y/N reaches forward, grabbing his hand and intertwining her fingers with his.

“No! Wait!” Her words stop Steve in his tracks. “I have something to tell you, too. Max wrote the same in my letter.” Steve frowns, and Y/N explains. “She told me to tell you the truth about how I feel, too. I’m in love with you Steve. I have been for the past year.” A huge grin takes over Steve’s face.

“You are? Oh, thank god.” He gasps. “Can I…kiss you?” Y/N giggles, and nods. Gently, Steve runs his finger down Y/N’s jawline, and he cups her jaw. Slowly, he leans in close, softly pressing his lips to hers. A soft moan escapes Y/N’s lips and she deepens the kiss as she wraps her arms around his waist. Once the kissing stops, Steve keeps holding her close. Y/N swears she could stay in Steve’s embrace forever. But life must go on, and unfortunately, it means Steve has to go home. 

“You know, you could stay over. I’m sure my mom would say yes if you asked.” 

“Nah, I have an early start tomorrow. Dustin and the others need a ride somewhere. And besides, I think if I stay over, I’d be too busy kissing you to get any sleep.” He admits, and the pair laugh. “I’ll come see you right after though, and then….” He cuts himself off with another kiss, which makes her sigh happily. “I’m going to take you out. And we can do whatever you want. Dinner, a movie, maybe both!”

“Mmm, that sounds good.” Y/N mumbles. “The thing is, I do want to do all of that and more with you…but I kinda just want you to keep kissing me.” She admits, and Steve smirks softly.

“Oh, you do? You see, that’s funny, cause I kinda want to keep kissing you too.” He replies, before kissing her again.

“What was that you were saying about an early start?” She asks when they pull apart again, and as the sky continues to darken.

“Eh, the kids can wait for a little bit I’m sure they’d understand. Especially Max. And besides, I’ve been waiting for what feels like forever to be able to kiss you, and now that I can, I’m not going to stop yet.” He grins, returning his lips to hers once more.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things oneshot #i have no idea how they'll defeat vecna so that's why i didn't say why lmao

[ramsywasalittlelamb]

I’m Not Here, This Isn’t Happening

Tim Drake-Centric, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a happy ending, littlest crumbs of age regression. 3.1k Words.

hello!! forefront and foremost, this is not a regression fic, nor is it a fic you should read while regressed!! I wrote this to get some things off my mind, my day-to-day experience is this entire fic, just projected onto timmy.

title from How to Disappear Completely - Radiohead

Massive TW/CW warning. This whole fic revolves around death and grief. intrusive and obsessive thoughts about death, descriptions of dying/death, and impulsive behavior on thoughts are in this. Please take caution reading, do not read if you think you may get triggered. There is no character death actually happening in this, just described/imagined in a negative lighting. Please do not hesitate to let me know if I need to add any more warnings.

The black ceiling he stares up into is seemingly staring back at him with a threatening look. At least, that’s what it feels like.

The thoughts and concerns swarm his head like a hive of angry hornets, stinging away every distraction he attempted. He tried counting sheep, thinking of the cases he’s been sitting on, even the recipes Bernard had texted him to try since he’d been too busy to actually taste his boyfriend's cooking.

But even through all of those, his mind kept going back to his family— more like the loss of family. And no, not his parents, though they do pop in quite often during late nights like these.

He remembers during his robin days, death hadn’t scared him because it didn’t seem permanent at the time— even though all the deaths that happened around him had affected him, it didn’t really hit him recently that his parents truly weren’t coming back.

Earlier in the day, he had woken up to someone brushing his hair back to wake him up, and his first thought was “Oh, Mom’s home.” Only to open his eyes and see Dick looking down at him with a smile, beginning to quietly talk about what Alfred had cooked and his plans for the day. Tim wasn’t listening though, a silent grief had struck through his chest at the remembrance that his mom wasn’t alive anymore.

Bruce had told him— No, everyone had told him that grief is weird. It will hit you when you least expect it, and all you can do is sit with your thoughts and try to cope. He had brushed it off, saying he’d be okay. Sure, he was sad about his parents, but.. now that Tim looks back to those words and emotions, he thinks he was in denial that they weren’t coming back.

Now Tim lays here, years later, inside his bedroom at Wayne Manor, staring at the empty ceiling with thoughts of his current loved ones dying in every scenario possible, because grief, trauma, and brains are lovely like that.

He can feel the tears streaming down his temples and into his hair, but he can’t find it in him to care. All he can focus on is the feeling of a loss that hasn’t happened. They’re not gone. Bruce is in the next room over, asleep in his way too big bed. Dick is probably awake, texting or on a video chat with one of his friends.

They’re breathing. They’re alive.

Why can’t he make his brain get that?

He sits up, a trembling hand over his chest that stutters with his quick breaths, grabbing a tissue to wipe off the tears, even though he knows full well they’ll be replaced in seconds.

They’re alive. He’s alive.

It really doesn’t feel like it though.

He can feel his heart beating wildly, the breaths he sucks in through his mouth, the blood rushing in his ears. Reminders that he’s awake and alive.

He doesn’t wanna die.

He’s terrified of it. He’s seen it happen in front of him countless times now, and everyone is right, it doesn’t get easier, but he feels alone. Nobody has talked about the constant fear of it when you’re not facing it up close. In the moment of near death, there isn’t much to think of besides get out. But afterwards, there’s so much time to think of the what if’s, so much silence to fill in the darkness of an empty room.

The song in his headphones switches over to another, a song Dick had shown him when he was robin, and suddenly he’s crying harder, his eyes shutting instinctively as they burn with tears. He can’t keep quiet anymore, but he doesn’t really care.

All he can think of is the day when everyone in his life is gone, dead, and there would be no way of them returning. Because as much as he hates to admit it, everyone does have to die someday, and we’re all not immortal.

All he can think of is when he admitted his fears to Dick on the rooftop one day when they both couldn’t sleep. The 4am delirium that makes you spill your guts and makes you regret it in the morning for even thinking about saying that, but then you realize you feel a little lighter for just saying the words out loud for someone who's crying by your side and just listening.

He still regrets it sometimes, saying those fears and worries out loud to someone who actually knows him. It was like revealing he had done something bad, like he wasn’t supposed to think or feel like that. Dick didn’t and still hasn’t brought it up, part of him hopes and believes that Dick was so tired and emotional that night that he had forgotten about what he said entirely.

But the other half hopes that Dick remembers, that he keeps it in his mind and just gets reminded how fragile Tim actually is, that Tim sometimes still feels like that kid who just went through two personal losses— three if he’s being parasocial.

He still feels like that kid.

He takes in a shuddering breath, shoving the headphones off and clutching the now damp tissue tighter in his hand as he stares at the tv that plays some person's gameplay of a Legend of Zelda game, another distraction that didn’t work.

His therapist said to reassure himself that everything is okay, that nothing is wrong and everyone is fine.

The reassurance he speaks to himself in his head doesn't do anything to combat the words his head produces, yelling at him to at least check one of them. Take a peek inside their bedroom, watch for a breath, maybe movement if he’s lucky, and once he has that reassurance that they’re alive, he can sleep peacefully.

He doesn’t even realize he’s opening a door until it’s too late, his thin blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Thankfully, his subconscious had some kind of mind to be quiet and slow with the creaky wooden doors, and he continues to open it, only realizing he went to Damian’s bedroom when he spots the kid on his bed, all the animals tucked around him like they were personal bodyguards.

He stills, watches Damian carefully with squinted eyes as if it’d help him see in the dark, focusing on the boy's chest. When it falls with a puff of air coming from his mouth, Tim releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He watches for a bit longer, just to be sure, he tells himself. The kid was a menace, specifically to him most of the time, but he loved Damian nonetheless. His brother is okay.

For extra caution he watches Titus, Ace and Alfred the cat, ensuring their breaths were even and good. The pets are okay.

He closes the door to Damian’s room gently so as to not make any noise, backing up slowly and missing the creaky floorboards with a silent sigh of relief. Damian is okay, the animals are okay, everyone is okay, which means he’s okay.

He.. thinks…

He’s supposed to feel better, no more racing thoughts that all these well trained and in good health people that could take care of themselves in a dangerous situation, are dead in their bedrooms, just rotting away.

They’re still there though. The thoughts about the youngest have quieted down, but the ones about the rest have gotten louder. Maybe he shouldn’t have listened to the thoughts nagging at him to check.

He debates for a moment before deciding to continue through with what his anxiety wants, he’s already awake and walking around, and he’s definitely not falling asleep anytime soon. He goes to the next room, Duke’s. Tim, zero. Anxiety, one.

He opens the door with the same stealth as before, looking inside through the small slit between the door and frame to see Duke and Cass sprawled out on his bed. Cass is mostly laying on top of him, an arm wrapped around his midsection in a hug while her head is tucked underneath his chin. Tim watches as they take breaths, careful to not disturb the two as he closes the door and steps away. He’s shocked he didn’t wake Cass up when he left his room, honestly.

He treks further down the hall, he hears light chatter and laughter coming from a room, looking towards the one that emits the noise only to see light coming from underneath the door. Dick’s room. He gives himself a gold star for getting his assumptions right on what his family would be doing at this hour.

Tim can hear him, see his shadow pacing back and forth as he talks to who Tim assumes is Wally judging by how Dick jokes and laughs so genuinely.

Tim stays there for a moment in the hallway, just outside of Dick’s door, listening to him laughing.

He stores that precious noise that he’d normally find obnoxious in his brain, in a safe and locked compartment titled his favorite sounds, praying to whoever or whatever is out there, that he never forgets it.

The tears that drip from his eyes and onto the floor brings him out of the trance of love and grief his brain entered, blinking himself back to reality and his mission.

He stops in front of the room that Stephanie usually stays in, questioning if she arrived earlier today— yesterday?— or if she comes over later. He can’t remember, but it doesn’t hurt to check.

He opens the door steadily to a Stephanie-free room.

That certainly didn’t help his anxiety.

He shakes it off, reminding himself Steph is probably not even at the manor right now and is most likely asleep in her own room. She’s okay. He’s okay. If he says it enough times it’ll be true.

He presses forward to Jason’s designated room, shifting his weight between his feet and fidgeting with the frayed edges of his blanket. Jason is a light sleeper, not that Tim can blame him, but trying to sneak a glimpse of the man while also trying not to disturb his sleep sounds like an impossible task.

Jason could be dying again, and if he dies, it’ll be your fault for not checking.

Tim tries to hurriedly open the door whilst being quiet, and though Jason shifts and snuffles a bit in his bed, the man doesn’t actually wake up. Tim mentally high fives himself while actually wiping away the tears that formed at the thought of Jason going through death again, never more happy to see someone shuffling in their bed.

He watches for a bit longer— or really, watching Jason’s bruised-up face go from an angry pout to neutral as his body relaxes. He hates to see Jason with bruises and injuries all over his body. He hates to see anyone with bruises and injuries all over their body. But Jason is breathing, so he’ll take it as a win.

He closes the door, taking a shaky breath and releasing it like Dick had taught him to calm himself down. Don’t let your emotions control you, you control them. He turns around and—

He lets out a small yelp as his eyes widen, slapping his hand over his mouth when he realizes it’s just Alfred.

Alfred raises his eyebrows with a bit of— not well hidden— shock at the sight of Tim, to which Tim realizes how disheveled he must look. He’s barely gotten any sleep, barely even left his room today, really. He knows the dark bags underneath his eyes must be worse than usual judging by how Alfred scans his face carefully. Not to mention the dried and continuously reoccurring tears on his face and eyes, his hair messy and sticking up and out whichever way it wants— Tim didn’t want to fight it today.

“Master Timothy, I apologize for startling you, but what are you doing up at this hour? Watching Master Jason, for that matter.” Alfred says quietly, moving the tray that rested in his hands to balancing it on one, taking Tim’s elbow and guiding him away from Jason’s door to have their conversation.

“I-“ He croaks out, his voice hoarse from god knows what. “I’m just having some trouble sleeping, no need to worry about me.” Tim manages to say, his words tremble and stutter more than he’d like to ever admit.

Alfred frowns at him, and Tim knows he’s been seen through. He wasn’t exactly lying, but he certainly wasn’t telling the whole truth. And nobody can successfully lie in this family, especially not to Alfred, if you even dare to. Plus, Alfred most definitely knows of this almost nightly routine that he does by now. Alfred doesn’t sleep on the second floor, his own bedroom below everyone else’s, and Tim is sure the footsteps and old floorboards making noises all the time doesn’t help very much in trying to get sleep when they’re always above you.

“Where do you plan on going next?” Alfred asks, his voice growing softer, nonjudgmental, as his hand travels from Tim’s arm to rub between his shoulder blades.

“Uhm..” He starts, only pausing to ponder the question— or how he should answer the question, he should say. He could be honest, make his final stop towards Bruce’s room, which is the most difficult one out of everyone, for a good reason he might add. Or he could lie (again) and say to the kitchen for a cup of water, or perhaps back to his bedroom, where he’ll cry himself to sleep and not tell anyone.

“Bruce.” He murmurs out, sniffling as he looks down to his feet, ashamed to admit the truth, especially when he knew that Alfred knew already.

“Alright. Let’s go check on him together, shall we?” Alfred replies calmly, holding out his elbow for Tim to take. Oh, so he does know. If he wasn’t so terrified right now, he’d think the offer of the butler’s arm is childish, but he feels like Alfred has some sort of safety net over his anxiety. If Alfred was around, everything would be okay. Bruce would be okay. Tim would be okay.

They reach the door, Alfred about to open the door for the two of them, but Tim pauses a few steps away from it.

What if Bruce is injured? What if he’s dead on his bed, and they just have to be the people to find him. What if he’s actively dying, gasping for a breath and bleeding out and—

He feels his hand get squeezed. He blinks and stares down blankly through the tears where Alfred’s hand holds his.

“It’s alright, my dear boy. Bruce is perfectly okay, I promise.” Alfred whispers, and Tim is glad he doesn’t smile to sugar coat the words. The confidence in his voice reassures Tim more than any words he’s said to himself tonight.

He nods, holding his breath as they enter.

He looks at the bed to see Bruce. His eyes watery and wide as he stares at Bruce’s chest.

It rises with an audible inhale.

Tim releases an audible exhale.

Alfred squeezes his hand again before releasing it and moving away to Bruce’s side, putting the pill capsules and a cup of room temperature water on his nightstand for when he wakes.

Tim tries to focus on Alfred, but his brain interrupts to keep watching Bruce, convincing him if he looks away Bruce will die. He’s certain of it.

“Master Tim, I’d suggest getting some rest now.” Alfred whispers as he walks to him and leaning closer to his ear as to not wake Bruce. Tim wants to nod, wants to leave the room and go to his own bed and just sleep for once this week without crying onto his pillows till he passes out from exhaustion.

But he can’t. He feels stuck in place as he watches Bruce with a hawk-eye gaze.

“I.. I don’t want him to die.” He murmurs, his eyes staying trained on one spot, eyebrows furrowing. “If I sleep, he— he dies, Alfred.”

Alfred pauses, a moment of silence between the two, the only noise being Bruce’s breaths and the old manor being its usually squeaky self.

“May I offer my word and promise that I will watch over him while you sleep?” Alfred says, attempting a compromise.

…

“Only if I’m allowed to sleep in here tonight.”

“I do believe that is not up for me to decide.”

Tim trusts Alfred— probably more than anyone else in his life,— but he hates making Alfred get this pressure of being perfect and solving problems all the time. Does the man ever get sleep? Does he ever allow himself sleep? Tim is just adding onto the burdens Alfred carry’s when he can just sit in here and watch Bruce him—

“Timothy. Please. Allow yourself rest, I will ensure his safety just as much as I do for all of you every night. If anything were to happen, I will alert you.” Alfred interrupts, brows furrowing with a frown as he stares at Tim.

Alfred’s expression changes to a smile when Tim’s teary eyes flick over and stay on Alfred’s eyes.

“There you are.” He says simply, taking Tim’s hand and elbow into his hands, guiding him over to the other side of Bruce’s bed, helping him onto it and making sure he’s adjusted and comfortable.

Bruce shuffles, making Tim pause. Once cleared to, he continues to snuggle his way into the sheets, his own being laid on top by Alfred. He flips onto his side, making sure he’s facing Bruce so he can watch, before remembering Alfred was going to sacrifice sleep so Tim could. So he thinks of a solution.

He’s hesitant, but then reasons with himself, he’s doing it for a purpose— his mental wellbeing, actually. Bruce should be proud. He scoots closer to Bruce so his head lays on his chest, allowing himself to make sure he’s still breathing. To make sure he’s still alive

“I’ll be right here the whole night.” Alfred reassures Tim before pressing a kiss to the boy's forehead, then Bruce’s for good measure..

He closes his dry eyes, head moving with the rise and fall of Bruce’s chest. He’s breathing. He’s alive.

Bruce is okay.

His brothers and sisters are okay.

His family is okay.

He’s okay.

#tw death #tw dying #cw death #cw dying #cw intrusive thoughts #tw intrusive thoughts #tim drake fic #batman fic #dc fic #dcu fic #dc comics fic #red robin #tim drake #batman fanfiction #tim drake fanfiction #dc comics fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanficition #dcu fanfic #Dcu fanficition #angst with a happy ending #angst #batman angst #tim drake angst

[clumsiestgiantess]

Day 14: Linger

Some fucked up shit (whump) I wrote several years ago, re-written for your viewing pleasure.

(For those of you who don’t like torture scenarios, you can skip this one; idk what younger me was on when I wrote this)

Hailey

My parents are fighting again.  At least, I like to think of them that way — parents instead of total strangers.  It's been harder and harder to see them shouting like this.  I can hear their screaming all the way from my room on the top floor.  It's been hard on my brother too, I think.  He hides it better than I do.  I just want things to be normal again.

Sighing, I slunk downstairs and slipped outside before anyone noticed me.  Taking a deep long breath, I gently closed the door, peering into the dark.  Walking out to the edge of our yard-  sorry, table, I sat down on its edge.  Four years of living on a surface raised several whole feet in the air and thinner than you is definitely not for everyone; I'm ok with it though.  I don't fall off too often anymore.

My family and I; we’re all dolls.  Yes, literally.  I’ve been like this as long as I can remember, passed from hand to hand, attic to garage sale.  The girls in this house — they used to play with us all the time.  It was amazing!  The world of plastic would fall away into something real and true.  Life was only worth living for those moments.  But the older human grew up, and the younger one was bought a brand new dollhouse, unlike this ancient one.  Soon after our abandonment, my parents — the older dolls — started arguing nonstop.

Sometimes I'll imagine what life would be like if I lived on my own, but then I wouldn't have a life.  Literally.  My whole reason for existing is to be played with.  I wouldn't be miserably listening to a never ending argument, but I'd be miserably sitting in the dark, alone, by myself with nothing to live for.  So that's not really an option.  The pent-up stress and depression that comes with being rejected took its toll on everyone in different ways.  I come out here to sit at the edge of our table and wait for one of the humans to come down.  Maybe, just maybe, they’d remember us.  Even if they don’t want us around, surely they’d pass us along to another human that does.

Just then, the basement lights snapped on.  Yelping in surprise, I slipped off the ledge and braced myself for the hard ground below.  As a doll, I can go from flesh to plastic pretty much instantly, so I can't get hurt from this kind of thing.  Every once and a while I forget that as plastic, I’m immune to the fall.  Even without pain, the drop is still plenty terrifying.  I'm not supposed to be seen by humans — not without being plastic — so I scrambled away from the open floor and hid behind one of the table legs.  Apparently, humans don’t like it when we’re flesh like them.  

When I was younger, I vaguely remember all of us trying to live life alive, like humans do.  When an actual human found us, they got so scared they passed out.  My oldest sister tried once more to interact with them, but she didn’t come back.  I tried to ask what my parents meant by that, but they didn’t give an answer other than she was never coming home.  Now I know that they’d tried to ‘exorcise’ her — a gruesome process humans inflict on dolls like us to stop us from living.  I didn’t even know we could die until then.  None of us show our living selves anymore.  As long as we’re complacent, nothing bad happens.

The girl who’d come downstairs so suddenly was the older one.  She ran right past me to the door with her dog in tow, so I took the opportunity to get climbing.  She never comes down to play with us anymore, so I know I have some time before anyone notices me where I didn’t belong.  

My first few attempts to scale the table failed pretty miserably.  I kept sliding back down the slippery wooden columns which served as table legs.  Finally, I'd managed to climb halfway up the vertical surface when the door to the yard opened, letting in a hyperactive puppy with the girl right behind it.  After running a few laps around the basement, the fluffy bullet settled down on the couch while the human pulled out her phone and sat down beside it.  

Inch by inch, I slowly began hauling myself up the table again, refusing to go back down.  It had taken me so long to get where I was.  In hindsight, that wasn't one of my best ideas.  The dog spotted me moving less than a few seconds later, and began barking as loud as it could at the table leg I was currently climbing.  Instantly, I was back on the floor again.  "Hey!" the human yelled annoyedly, marching over to her dog.  "What in the world are you barking at?!  Is your ball under there?"  Before I could even think about running, she'd stuck her head under the table and spotted me.  I was way too quick for her to catch me alive, though.  

By the time the human got down on her hands and knees, I was already back to being plastic.  "Were you barking at this?" she asked the dog as she held me out for it to sniff.  Now that I was plastic, the animal seemed to lose all interest in me and went back to lay down on the couch.  The girl shook her head and walked back with him, but she'd taken me with her, placing me down on the bookshelf beside the couch.  "You are such a strange dog, Cooper," she said, patting the husky puppy as she sat down again.  

Ok, I've been sitting here for an HOUR now and the girl, Ellie, if I remember correctly, still hasn't left.  She got up a few minutes ago to get her headphones though, and she hasn’t looked up from her phone once.  As quietly as I could, I began to slide away from my spot on the bookshelf.  Mind you, I'm still five inches tall, so one wrong move and I'm easily seen.  I was at the edge of the shelf now, so I hardened my skin to plastic and inched off the ledge, letting myself drop to the ground.  I'd begun traversing the floor, sure I could make the short jog to the play table, which had doubled as a dumping ground over the years.  

Just a quick jog, only a few seconds between me and the safety of the table.  "Holy shit!"  I froze, mortified.  In my prehipreal vision, Ellie stood up, staring down at me from somewhere too far up for me to see.  Before I could even think of running or going plastic, Ellie rushed to a bin nearby, grabbed a fake treasure chest, and closed it around me.  The plastic lock clicked shut, and she thundered up the basement stairs yelling urgently.  "Mom!  Look what I found!"  Panic seized my chest, constricting the air out of my lungs.  Say something, anything!  "NO!  Please!  Please, you can't tell them!" I yelled, banging on the side of the box.  I've just destroyed my life.

Ellie

Running as fast as I could, I slowed as I heard my mom reply.  "What is it honey?"  Thinking back to the tiny doll, I asked myself: was telling her the best idea?  Every time adults found out about something like this in any movie, book, or even real life, they usually messed it up one way or another.  Rather than telling her the truth, I said I'd forgotten.  "That's alright," she replied, "Tell me if you remember what it was."  I ran about halfway down the stairs before she stopped me.  "Now that you're upstairs, why don't you help set the table for dinner?"  I wasn’t upstairs anymore, but I knew I couldn’t argue.  Before I could try to make up a good enough excuse, she had me fishing out spoons and forks from a drawer in the kitchen.  I'd left the locked chest on the couch downstairs.

After a seemingly endless dinner, I was called away from the basement again to put away the laundry.  Groaning, I trudged down the hall to my room.  It wasn't that I was afraid the doll might escape the box; I was more afraid of my sister finding her.  Claire, my younger sister, loves catching cool bugs and other various small creatures.  I know she’ll absolutely adore the tiny doll from the basement.  The problem was, she almost always forgets about the things she takes 'care' of, and leaves them in their containers without… anything.  Now that I think about it, I don't think she's ever taken care of something that's lived for more than a month.  

Once I was finally done with the laundry, I raced back downstairs.  Hesitantly, I crept back to the couch and let out a sigh of relief; the chest was still there.  No one had come down before me.  As carefully as I could, I flipped open the lid, peering in.  The small doll inside jumped in surprise and backed into a corner.  "Wow," I breathed, "You... you're alive."  Glaring at me, she grumbled under her breath.  "You aren’t supposed to know that."  I startled.  For some reason, I’d been unsure whether she could talk.  "What.. Why?" I asked, both confused and alarmed at once.  

"Well, it’s.. for safety," she replied, “Humans don’t react well to seeing us alive.  I.. don't know exactly what will become of us if we’re found out, but everyone says bad things'll happen if we are."  Huffing, she sat back down on the bottom of the chest.  After a second or two, she glanced up at me.  “So, get it over with already.”  My brows furrowed in confusion, wondering what she was insinuating by her last statement.  "But I didn't tell anyone,” I said, glancing back at the stairway, “No one knows except me."  The doll froze and looked up at me incredulously, "You're a liar.  I can hear through this box, and I heard you yelling to your mother.”

"Did you hear me tell her about you?" I quipped.  I could see she was about to say something snide in return but stopped, "... no.  That doesn't mean anything, though.  You still could've told them while I was sitting down here."  Leaning back, I tried to think of a way to convince her I wasn't lying.  "If I told someone, don't you think I would've brought them down here to convince them?"  That silenced her for a while.  "So, you didn't tell anyone?" she finally asked, shock spilling into her voice.  I shook my head.  Getting back up from the floor of the box, she grumbled as she started climbing over the side of the chest.  "Even if you told no one, you still know.  To me, that's one human too ma- AAH!"  As she tried to climb up, her elbow knocked into the lid and it came crashing back down.  Trapping her inside it again.  "Are you alright?" I asked, lifting it gently back up.

"Just get me out of this thing," the doll sighed.  “If you’re not going to trap me, I’m leaving.  Like I was saying, you shouldn't know about me."  As I listened to her talk on and on about how dangerous it was for her, I tilted the box so she could hop out.  "If you know, someone else is bound to find out about me eventually.”  I watched her with silent awe.  She isn’t even plastic, though I know for a fact that she was when I used to play with her.  

When I used to play with her.  What a strange thing to do to someone very clearly alive.  She’s.. a doll, that’s the point of her, but a living doll…. As the thought sunk in, I realized how most people would be frightened at that phrase.  Flashes of horror movies danced in my head and I began having second thoughts about trapping her.  Maybe it is better if I let the doll have what she wants.  I cleared my throat, causing the little thing to jump at the sound.  She’d scaled down the side of the couch where I’d placed the chest, and watched me warily from the floor.  The distance between us didn’t feel like much, yet she looked so much smaller.

“Are all of you alive?” I asked, trying to stop the tendrils of fear in the back of my mind from slipping into my voice.  The doll turned away from me purposefully, “I can’t tell you that.”  Yes.  Yes they are.  “Is everything alive?”  A sneer drifted onto her face.  “Of course not!  That would be impossible to hide!  I don’t think anything is alive besides us.”  The doll cringed a moment later, realizing her slip-up.  Slowly, she turned back around to glance at me, trying to catch whether I’d recognized her mistake.  "Alright, I guess I'll be upstairs then," I quickly headed towards the staircase as horror movies again plagued my thoughts.  "Ok, just… please don't tell anyone," the doll stressed.  When I turned to leave I replied, "I don't think anyone will believe me anyway,” before quickly dashing up the stairs to safety.

I've been staring at the ceiling of my room for the past half hour now, trying to make sense of what I just discovered.  Was it better to leave the doll alone, or would it be better to trap her again?  If my sister found her and mistreated her like everything else she owns, she might invoke whatever paranormal wrath the dolls might have.  I debated it over and over in my head all through the night and into the next day.  I'd just finished breakfast when a crashing sound echoed through the house.  What was that?" I called in exasperation, expecting Cooper to have accidentally knocked something else over again.  "It sounds like it came from downstairs," I heard my sister reply.  The basement?  Oh no.  The doll.

I raced out of the kitchen and scrambled for the basement door.  "I'll get it!  No one move; I'll check it out!"  Not waiting for a reply, I raced down the stairs and froze at the bottom.  One of the other playhouses, a windmill with two small floors, had fallen off the table and smashed on the floor below.  At least it wasn’t some possessed doll ritual. 

"Everything's fine!" I called to my family, "Something just fell off a shelf, that's all!"  I stepped forward to assess the damage when I noticed a string attached to a broken piece of the windmill.  Pulling it off of the balcony, I realized there was a kind of grapple at the end.  Strange.  I followed the string with my finger, tugging it along through the cracked plastic pieces to find what the other end was attached to.  Splinters of cracked plastic parted, revealing the doll from last night.  I found her beneath the rubble, unconscious.

Hailey

My life is literally over.  I thought I might be able to salvage it, but as I walked into the dollhouse it became painfully apparent that I was done for.  Everyone knew what had happened.  Of course they did; the dining room had a clear view of the couch.  I'd been warned explicitly by everyone in this place that if anyone screwed up, they'd pay for it.  One mistake would affect everyone, not just the doll who was to blame.  My so-called 'parents' locked me in my room, blocking the way out with a heavy shelf.  The only reason I'm not still stuck in there is my crafty escape plan I'd devised on day one of the fierce arguments.  Thankfully, I made it out with my climbing grapple and my freedom.

I planned to live on my own.  It’s really the only option now.  I won’t really miss the old house or the dolls there, but I wasn't expecting them to actually stay true to their word.  I kind of assumed that the threats to imprison me were fictions purely to scare me away from the idea of escape.  All night, I trekked across the massive basement floor, not daring to stop for anything until I reached the place I was headed.  I was going to live in the two story windmill on the shelf by the stairs.  It was less used than the dollhouse, and basically inaccessible to any of the others without a grapple like mine.

It was already early morning by the time I reached the stairs.  The distance between the dollhouse and the other end of the room didn’t look nearly as far from my window.  However, my legs ached from the journey.  When I finally got to the shelf, I used my grapple to scale each section.  It was easier going scaling each individual section rather than trying to climb the whole thing, even if it took a longer time.  Almost at the top, I threw up the hook and latched the end of it to a balcony at the top of the windmill.  Just as I'd begun hoisting myself along, I heard a faint creak.  My line slid and I froze, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.  Fearfully, I looked up.  I was just in time to witness the top of the windmill snap off the building.  Screaming, I desperately grasped at my line, but it was no use.  The whole thing had fallen with me.  I managed to become plastic before I hit the floor, but I barely had time to blink before the entire building fell on top of me.

Mommy and Daddy are fighting.  I don't like it, so I turn instead to my pretty little world of make-believe.  My dollies have such a nice life; if only my life were like theirs.  A big house, big adventures, and best of all, a big loving family.  I notice the sky getting dark.  Placing the dolls in their beds, I rush to the window.  A single star shines in the early night sky.  "Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight," I recite at my window ledge, "I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight."  I suck in a deep breath, and with it I utter: "I want to live like a dollie, my whole family and me."

I woke up with a start, flinching upright in a panic.  What was that?  No, I…  Shit.  I know what that was.  That was me.  The real me.  Before I was like this.  How could I have forgotten?  "I'm.. not a doll," I whispered to myself, "I never was."  

"What?"  I flinched at the new voice.  It was the girl, Ellie.  She was bending over me, concerned and way too close for comfort.  I quickly scrambled backward to get away, only to nearly fall over into the sink behind me.  That's when I realized Ellie had taken me to the bathroom.  She'd woken me up by splashing water on my face.  "Could you, you know, move back a little?" I asked, feeling very crowded by her looming presence above me.  "Oh, sure, of course," Ellie easily put a bit more space between us.  "I just didn't catch what you said before."  

The realization came rushing back, hitting me full force like a kickball to the gut.  So that was the reason I didn’t remember how I ended up in someone’s living room.  That’s why we tried acting human before we recognized how dangerous it was.  But it’s impossible.. how did we end up as playthings?

"I-  I'm a person," I said with a shudder.  "I remember now.  It came to me in a memory when I got knocked out.”  My solemn voice bounced loudly off the walls of the small bathroom.  This.. girl, she can’t be more than 16.  I’m.. I think I’m 20?  I was way younger than her when I made that wish — more like her sister’s age.  How had I grown up?  How had I grown up like this?  The human- the girl- the teenage girl technically younger than me- loomed over me like a giant.  Because she’s a human, my mind replied smoothly.  But.. so am I.

“It's.. I..  I think I cursed myself to be this way,” I stuttered, avoiding eye contact, “Both me and my family."  Ellie withdrew further back, eyes growing wide.  "I knew it," she whispered in fear, "This is how horror movies start; a cursed doll and their unsuspecting first victim."  Ellie stumbled out of the bathroom, looking at me in newfound horror.  "No, I-!" I tried to explain, but she cut me off.  "I should've told everyone about you!  Maybe if they knew, they would lock you away somewhere, and you wouldn't be here now — about to kill me."  I blanched, watching her backpedal towards the stairs.  "Wait, no, I don't want to hurt you!  What are you talking about?  Where are you going!?" I yelled, panicking as she reached the bottom step.  Ellie dashed upstairs before she heard anything else I said.

This is bad, really bad.  I have to stop her.  Now.  Hardening to plasticity, I jumped from the bathroom counter and took off at a run.  Being stupid little doll size, I couldn't get very far.  She was long gone by the time I made it to the stairs.  I cried out in anguish.  Each stair was a few inches — or maybe a centimeter — taller than me.  Having no other way to get to Ellie, I started climbing.  The family upstairs was nowhere to be found by the time I reached the ground floor, which took ages.  Ellie wasn't there.  Thankfully, I know where her room is, though.  I've been on this floor once or twice when Ellie decided to bring us up here to play.  It was often during some sort of vacation scenario where the story required a dramatic change in scenery.  

I shuddered at the memories, taking a moment to rest in the doorway.  I’d been played with, and I’d liked it.  Now, I feel like vomiting just thinking about someone so big picking me up and forcing me around.  

I ran over to the girls' hallway.  Luckily, it was a straight shot to Ellie's room.  Unluckily, I had to pass Claire's room to get there.  I crawled down the hallway, keeping to the side of a wall to avoid attention.  For a while, I really thought I would make it through without being caught, but as it turns out, Claire was not in her room.  "Oh, wow!" gasped a voice from above.  I didn't even have time to process that I'd been spotted before I was snatched up.  My vision spun from being yanked to such a dizzying height so suddenly.  I desperately tried to free myself from her grasp, but my protests were only met with a tightened grip.  The world whirled by at a sickening speed.

Suddenly, I was thrust into a dollhouse.  This one was nothing like the one in the basement.  Everything was uncomfortably plastic, and it was completely open on one side.  Most annoyingly, it was also scaled to the wrong size.  Even in this dollhouse I still seemed to be a few feet smaller than normal.  

Claire gazed in at me, again getting way too close for comfort.  I desperately searched for a way out, but there aren’t even any stairs leading off this floor.  "ARE YOU REAL?!" Claire squealed in excitement.  I yelped, quickly shoving my hands over my ears.  "OH MY GOSH YOU ARE ADORABLE!"  She reached for me and I screamed, despite myself.  "Please!" I cried, "Please stop yelling.  I'm going to go deaf!"  Claire whined and snached me out of the dollhouse.  She held me close to her face and started petting me.  "Aww, I'm so sorry little thing.  You're just so cute!  Look at how small you are!  So tiny!"  I could practically feel my dignity slipping away.  "No!  Stop it!  I'm not a doll, I'm a person!  Put me down!"  I shoved at her fingers, but they didn't budge.

Claire giggled, sending chills down my spine.  "I know you're a person, silly!  Dolls don't talk!"  She only laughed at my feeble attempts to free myself.  "You're my very own tiny person.  Even better than a doll!  We're going to have so much fun together!"  My stomach dropped.  She knew?  She knew I was a person, but she didn't care?  Claire placed me back into the dollhouse and shut it.  I was too stunned to move.  Only when I heard the click of a latch lock did I snap out of my stupor.

"Wait!" I cried, rushing to the window, "Let me out of here!  You can't lock me in here!"  Claire only giggled and poked her fingers in through the window next to mine.  I retreated backwards in alarm, tripping over myself and falling hard on the pink plastic floor.  "Yes I can," she said cheerfully, "You're mine now!  I can do whatever I want with you!"  How can something so sinister be spoken so happily?  I threw myself against the window.  It was criss-crossed into tiny square sections for decoration, effectively trapping me behind a cruel set of plastic prison bars.  

The lights in Claire’s room flicked off, and soon she was asleep.  Devastated, I searched the floor one last time for a staircase down, or a non-barred window, but no such luck.  There was a bed made entirely of plastic — the covers only a wavy texture on the bed frame.  Peering out the side window, I could see the latch that kept the dollhouse shut.  I stretched as far as I could, almost getting my shoulder stuck in the window frame, but I was just short of the latch.  Retreating to a far corner of the room, I curled up and cried softly.  Why, why did I have to figure out that I’m a person now?  Doll me would’ve loved being this little girl’s plaything.

Ellie

I was right!  I knew it!  And now I'm going to be murdered for it.  I raced into my room and locked the door, determined to stay safely behind it the rest of the day.  I only came out for a few brief moments to grab meals before disappearing into my room again.  As I panicked about what to do and how to survive, I searched up ways to get rid of the cursed doll.  Of course, the internet offered very little help.  Most of the articles I found were clearly fake, and the others were all based on horror movies, which are also fake.  Either way, most of the suggestions were awfully dramatic.  Many of the passages told me to burn her alive, which seems a bit excessive.

Eventually, due to my recent search history and my phone somehow knowing my location, an article appeared in the 'things you might be interested in' tab.  At first I ignored it; the text was a ranked list of the most haunted things in the state.  However, before I clicked away, a picture caught my eye and my heart stopped.  It was a photo of the dollhouse in the basement; discolored and filtered to make it seem more sinister, but definitely the dollhouse.  I sucked in a shocked breath of air.  There was a paragraph posted below the picture.

#4.  The Wilson House

Unlike most of the haunted houses on this list, you can't visit or tour this home… unless you're five inches tall.  Late one June night the owners of the house, Mike and Veronica Wilson as well as their children, Victor and Hailey Wilson, were all at home when the seemingly impossible occurred.  Their house and car, along with the things and people inside of  them, vanished into the night.  This awfully strange disappearance left police baffled after picking up on what they thought was a prank phone call about a "missing house".  Even stranger still, all that was left of their whereabouts was a dollhouse, confirmed to be a replica of the Wilson home.  Today, the replica is lost to time.  This leaves horror seekers and mystery solvers with the same question: Was it a kidnaping, alien abduction, or was there something darker at work here?  

I stared open-mouthed at my phone, reading and re-reading the paragraph and the entire article to see if there was any more information.  The halls were dark by the time I stopped scouring the internet for the Wilson house.  According to the few sources, the family had been on the brink of collapse when the house disappeared with both parents, the 17 year old Victor, and the 6 year old Hailey.

Slowly I slunk under my covers, uncertain.  The doll said she'd been human once; she'd cursed herself and her family.  Between the first article and what she'd said, I’m fairly sure I just stumbled across the truth about who the doll is.  The worst part?  I really doubt she would have hurt me.  There were only a few things I could find about the disappearance, but what I couldn't find was how it had come to be in the tag sale we'd bought it from years ago.  My best guess was that someone scraped it off the side of the road, then lost interest in it.  Most of the articles were dated a few years after I was born, so it was entirely possible people had forgotten its origins and left it up for sale.  

I was up late that night, thinking.  Hailey was likely the doll I'd met, though she'd clearly grown somehow since she'd been cursed.  She looked older than me, and she was already six the night the house went missing.  I wish I could go back downstairs and talk to her, but I don't want to risk waking up my family.  She’d been pretty adamant on ensuring the secret of her existence.  Now I understand why.  Hailey’s probably worried I told everyone, and she's lucky I didn't.  All this time that me and my sister have been playing with that dollhouse…  they were alive.  Not just alive, but actual people too.  Though, apparently Hailey had only just realized it today.  I have so many questions, and a major apology for jumping to conclusions about her, but they would have to wait until tomorrow.

That morning, as soon as I woke up, I headed to the basement.  I searched everywhere for Hailey — the dollhouse, the toy bins, the shelf, even the remains of the windmill, but I found nothing.  She’d seemingly vanished.  Despite my best efforts, I couldn't find her anywhere.  I spent the entire morning scouring the basement, but to no avail.  Finally, I gave up the search to eat something.  I assumed that Hailey had run away, so I checked the backyard next.  I was halfway through my search — and planning to go through the front yard next — when my mom called me away to help her put together a new table for the deck.  If Hailey was still here somewhere, I’d find her eventually.

Hailey

I was woken way too early this morning.  So early in fact, that I forgot where I was for a moment.  That was until the wall next to me was pulled away, and Claire's awful grin fell into view.  "Good morning little thing!" she said in a sappy voice, "I'm going to get breakfast and then we can play, ok?"  I groaned, but she'd already disappeared out the door.  However, Claire left the dollhouse wide open.  I quickly seized the chance to escape.  Switching to plastic, I jumped down to the floor and raced to the doorway.  I barely made it halfway across Claire's room before I collapsed.  I cursed my night of little sleep and my horribly tiny figure.  If only I weren't so small!  I could easily escape this place if I were still human.  But that was entirely my fault, wasn't it?

By the time Claire had returned, I'd managed to hide amongst a clutter of stuffed animals by the door.  I was far too exhausted to go any further.  Once Claire realized I was gone, she rummaged through the entire dollhouse; haphazardly shoving things out as she searched.  When she'd emptied the entire thing and still hadn’t found me, Claire quickly became hysterical.  Enraged, she began to tear her room apart in search of me, her voice harsh on my ears.  "New doll, where are you!?"  It was terrifying to watch from my perspective on the floor.  Even though Claire can't be more than six or seven years old, she still towered above me.  As she searched the opposite side of the room, I ran out the door as quickly as I could.

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING?"  I flinched so badly I tripped, hitting the hardwood floor face first.  Like yesterday, I was torn away from the ground at a sickening speed.  "WHY DID YOU RUN AWAY LIKE THAT?" Claire cried ridiculously loudly, "DON'T DO THAT AGAIN."  "Or what!?" I spat, "You already lock me up, anyway."

I shouldn't have tested her.  I don't know why I did.  All I remember after that was violent force whisking me through the air, then I woke up on the floor of Claire's room.  My head throbbed and I could feel major bruises blooming on my arm and back where I was laying.  She threw me.  Claire reached for me again, and I panicked.  I don't think I'll survive that a second time.  "Wait!"  I hated how desperate I sounded, and I hated how it felt, but I had no choice.  "I fell out and got lost, I'm sorry!" I lied.  "It won't happen again, I swear.  Please don't-" I swallowed a sob, "Don't do that again, please."  

Claire smiled an awful, satisfied smile and backed off.  A few seconds later she returned with a handful of dolls.  "That's ok to get lost,” she assured me sweetly, “I get lost sometimes, too.  Don’t worry, it's only your first day."  I grimaced.  Only my first day.  I tried my best to do what she asked after that incident.  Claire made it horribly clear that she would happily hurt me, or even end my life, if she felt like it.  Days blurred together, mixed with the same bullshit acting she forced me to do — all similar family drama scenarios she played out with her dolls and me.  It wasn't quite torture; it was bareable, at least for the time being.  

Claire made sure to watch me at all times after my first day.  I know I told her I hadn't meant to run off, and she said she believed me, but despite that, she always kept one eye on me at all times.  However, as long as I deal with the stupid little things she asks me to do, I won't get hurt.  I just have to keep playing along until she lets her guard down and I can escape.

Unfortunately, she never let her guard down again.  It was far too easy for her to lock me up inside the dollhouse day after day.  I never got another chance to run.  For what felt like months, I slaved away trapped in Claire's room.  Since I could move on my own, she forced me to act out little scenes for her.  I became an actor, a puppet on a string for her to do with as she pleased.  Charlie was my new name.  Though I continuously try to tell her I already have a name, she stuck with Charlie.  I knew better than to refuse her.  

It was agonizing mental torture day in and day out.  All of her dolls were the same scale as the dollhouse, so my role was that of the small, youngest sister; always belittled by the rest of the family, yet somehow always the center of attention.  Claire made sure of it.  She adored me, but in all the wrong ways.

I was dragged along everywhere with her, but I feared both her wrath and the potential fright from her sister, who thinks I’m possessed or cursed.  Technically, I am cursed, but not in the way she’s probably thinking.  There was a brief moment where I was desperately tempted to tell her, though.  Claire had me with her, sitting right beside her sister.  All I had to do was call out to her, and she’d likely take me far away from my awful captor.  But then what would she do to me?  Rat me out to her parents?  Try to ‘exorcise’ or kill me?  No, it’s better to stay where I am.  Claire also tried to hide me as best she could.  I guess she thinks I might try to tell someone or run away again.  At this point, I don’t think I have the strength to run away.

Late one afternoon, as I was sitting around the table for a 'meal' with the other dolls, I snapped.  Not the violent kind of snap like twigs underfoot, but rather a quiet, groaning crumble like that of a felled tree.  I remember it so clearly.  It was right in the middle of a scene where I was supposed to talk about my fake day at fake school with my fake family.  My line came, I opened my mouth to speak, and.. started sobbing.  Just out of the blue.  I couldn't keep pretending any longer.  

Slipping out of the chair that was just a little too tall, I fell to the ground and continued to bawl.  Two fingers dragged me out of the dollhouse to the bedroom floor.  I could feel Claire's gaze on my back.   I held in a sob long enough to glance upward, and instantly sobered.  My frustrated tears dried on my face.

Claire gave me such a cold, evil glare that my breath hitched in my chest.  "That isn't your line," she said annoyedly, "Get back in and say your line."  I tried.  Trust me, I really tried.  In fear and in vain I tried to go back, but I collapsed within the first two steps.  Before I could continue on sobbing, I was yanked off my feet and thrown angrily down on her little kid's table in the corner.  I could only watch in terror as her form loomed ever closer.  Desperately, I tried to form an apology.  Even if I had, I doubt that would've stopped her.  

"Please, don't do this!  Whatever you want to do to me-"  Claire effortlessly pinned me down while I struggled for freedom.  "No!  I'll do anything!  Just stop!  STOP!  PLEASE!"  My pathetic sobbs fell on deaf ears.  I quickly turned plastic in fear of what would happen, and thank god I did.  In one terrible motion, she grasped my right arm and tore it clean off.  All that was left was a gaping plastic socket.  

"Huh, maybe you are a doll after all," Claire mused, noticing it.  I screamed, but no sound came from my mouth.  I don't exactly have vocal chords when I'm plastic, or a throat for that matter.  I can barely even move.

A new realization dawned on me quickly afterwards.  If I turn back, my arm will bleed out.  My plastic form would have to be my only form.  Unless I could somehow bargain for my arm back.  I did; I tried desperately to get her to listen.  But I couldn't get her to understand me before, nevermind now — I literally don't have a voice.  "Forget your lines and you'll end up with more than just your arm missing," Clare threatened at the end of it all.  

What did it matter?  I can't act for her now.  I was just like the rest of her dolls, still and compliant.  I could move around with enough effort, but why bother?  After only a few days of staying plastic, I became completely lethargic.  There was no hope of escape.  I would die here.  Can I even die now?  Being plastic, I don't think I can.

Ellie

I'd long come to terms with the fact that Hailey had run off.  Wherever she was, I hoped she was doing alright.  There wasn't really much I could do to find her beyond the searching I did, so in the end, the thought of her haunted little dollhouse was melancholy at best.  I visited it on occasion; I even took her older brother to try and get answers from him on where his sister might’ve run off to, but he sat there lifelessly the whole time.  Hailey really wasn’t kidding about them trying to keep the secret.  The rest of the dolls don’t even know they’re people, I don’t think.

I really did try to befriend him, though.  He was clearly adult age, so a lot of my befriending probably went right over his head.  Still, I sat around and gave him company for several days.  Once in the middle of the night, I caught him sneaking around and immediately got up to see him, but he fell over plastic before I got close.  Two weeks went by before I put him back and gave up on him.  Finding Hailey slowly became less and less of a priority.

That was until one day, while I was watching a show on TV, I noticed my sister playing with her dolls on the floor to my left.  This was a completely normal occurrence, except there was a new, familiar-looking doll that caught my eye.  Shuffling inconspicuously closer on the couch, I peered down.  It was Hailey.  It was undoubtedly Hailey.  And she was missing an arm.  I blanched at the sight, and for a moment, I thought she was dead.  Then I remembered the strange way she could switch from flesh to plastic.  Hailey had been a plastic doll instead of flesh and blood beneath the splinters of the small dollhouse where I’d found her.  Her transformation must be some sort of unnatural defense.  I knew Claire would never willingly give Hailey to me though, so I chose to improvise.

I pretended to be uninterested in her games, and glued my eyes to the television.  When Claire disappeared down the hall to use the bathroom, I swept in and stole Hailey away.  In a half run, I rushed into my room and locked the door behind me.  Once I was behind the safety of my bedroom door, I carefully placed Hailey on my desk.  Her plastic form fell sideways, limp.  I stilled, was she dead?  

"Hailey?"  I'd never actually called her by her name before.  Almost agonizingly slowly, she sat up.  Her movements were almost mechanical as she tried to make the best use of the few joints she still had.  Her missing arm only added to her limited movements.  Wait, without her arm…  "You can't turn back, can you?" I realized solemnly.  Hailey slowly shook her head, mute.  I couldn't even tell what she was feeling; her face was a mask of dull plastic expression.  No doubt it was somewhere between terrified and miserable.

"Where's your arm?" I asked her.  "It must be in my sister's room somewhere, right?  If I bring you with me, could you help me get it?"  Hailey nodded vigorously — the fastest I’d seen her move.  Eagerly, I reached out to pick her up.  A second later, she pressed herself against the back wall behind my desk.  Though I couldn't read her expressions, she made it clear enough that she would NOT be manhandled.  I don't blame her, especially knowing where she's actually been all this time.

I cupped my hands together and held them out for her, gesturing to climb in.  Hailey’s plastic form shuddered, but she slowly shuffled her way into my hands, balancing awkwardly on legs that barely bent.  I lifted her up and cautiously opened my bedroom door.  Slinking quietly down the hall, I uneasily watched the doorway to the living room.  Claire was frantically searching through her things, no doubt trying to find where Hailey had disappeared to.  Thankfully, where Claire was currently situated in the living room made it hard for her to see down this hallway.  

I slipped into her room and waited patiently for Hailey to give me the next directions.  It must've been pretty hard work.  She had to put in so much effort to simply point at things around us to guide me.  As it turned out, her arm had been stashed in one of Claire's jewelry boxes.  We'd found it just in time, too.  My sister's footsteps echoed in the hallway outside.  Her room was one half of a jack and jill set, connected by a bathroom.  Before Clare made it to her door, I'd slipped away into the bathroom and out into the other room.  I waited in the second room — a guest bedroom; my room was just beyond this one.  Hailey shifted nervously against my fingers, cold plastic pressing up against warm flesh.

Once I was sure Claire would be in there for a while, I crept back into my own room and re-locked the door.  Placing Hailey back on my desk, I examined the plastic arm I'd stolen.  Hailey desperately tried to stand, but the weight of the plastic was off balance, and she kept falling over backwards.  Eventually, I sat down and took her gently in my hand, cautiously bending her plastic limbs to let Hailey sit down.  She went completely still the moment I touched her.  I didn't know whether it was because she trusted me, or because she was afraid of me, but I'm guessing it was more of the latter.  

"I don't know if this will hurt or not, but I'm going to try to shove this back in now, alright?" I asked, holding out her arm.  Hailey nodded, slower this time, like she was more hesitant.  With one hand, I propped up Hailey’s body, and with the other I held the blunt side of her arm.  Carefully, I pressed the plastic joint back into its socket.  Tenuous pressure soon built up enough to snap the limb back into place with such a loud crack, that for a moment I thought I'd broken it.  

Hailey took one small test movement, then immediately swapped back.  Her ridgid, plastic features melded and smoothed.  Her once expressionless face seemed to vanish beneath a horribly terrified expression.  Hailey’s face was streaked with tears, and her eyes were bloodshot.  It looked like she hadn't eaten or slept in days, which might very well be the case.  She hesitantly edged herself backwards to the far side of my desk, whimpering as she felt the wall behind her, blocking her from going any further.  "Are..  Are you going to kill me?" she asked in an eerily hollow voice, "Be-" she paused to cough, "Because I'm cursed?"  

Oh, right.  The last time we saw each other, I ran off in terror.  Now, I know the truth; it was evidently clear.  Despite her somewhat chilling abilities, Hailey really is just a person.  A person who'd been tortured by whatever hell my sister thought to do with her.  "Of course not," I answered in the kindest voice I could muster, "I'm not my sister.  I won't hurt you."  

Immediately, Hailey started crying.  She knelt on my desk, head bent over as she quietly sobbed.  I carefully reached out and scooped her up, unsure how else to comfort her.  "You're ok," I whispered when she flinched in my grasp.  For the first time, I noticed the ugly purple bruises that lined her arms.  "Forget what I said to you before.  I'm sorry I ran out.  I swear I went back to apologize the very next day.  It never occurred to me that my sister had found you.  I kinda thought you left."  

Hailey only curled up tighter in my hands.  Eventually, she was all cried out.  I placed her down and she stumbled backwards drowsily.  I caught her before she could fall, and eased her down.  She slumped over and almost fell asleep right then and there before she bumped one of her bruises and flinched awake.  Startled, Hailey looked up at me frighteningly.  "Why am I..  tired?  So.. tired?"  She could barely form words.

"You're probably sleep deprived, and by the looks of it, starving too."  I lowered her to the surface of my desk, "Stay there, I'll get you some food."  I raced out of the room and straight to the kitchen.  A slice of bread and a bottle of water were all I could grab before dashing back.  Again, I double checked the lock behind me.  Hailey had fallen asleep, but I'd taken enough health and science classes to know that this was bad.  If she fell asleep now, there was a good chance she wouldn't wake up.  

I shook Hailey awake; thankfully she hadn't completely checked out.  Then, I quickly ripped up the slice of bread into pieces small enough for her to eat, and handed her one.  She scarfed it down while I poured out some water into a bottlecap for her to drink.  It looked so wrong watching her practically eat from my hand, but right now Hailey probably couldn't care less.  After making sure she'd eaten enough, I let her sleep.  It was a bit safer now that her body had something to sustain itself for a while longer.

I dutifully sat at my desk until she awoke.  Only leaving once to poke my head out the door to say: "No Claire, I haven't seen your missing doll, but I'm sure it's around somewhere.  After all, it can't just get up and walk away, can it?"  As I sat there patiently, I thought through what had happened between Hailey and my sister.  Could Claire really be that sadistic?  Why did she do this to Hailey?  I had to admit, she didn’t have the best track record, but she should surely know better than to do this to a person, right?  I huffed, plunking back down next to my desk.  While Hailey slept, I looked over her bruises.  She looked awful, tortured even.  I gave my sister the benefit of the doubt and hoped that this had only happened because Hailey could barely move and couldn't speak.  Hopefully, Hailey had been plastic the whole time, and my sister had only mistook her for another doll.

Hailey

I was greeted with three different kinds of pain when I woke up.  My stomach was eating itself from the inside out, my head was pounding, and the bruises everywhere throbbed dully.  I groaned a little in agony, and the whole right side of my vision shifted.  My first instinct was to brace myself for the worst.  I'd been sleeping, and it was daylight.  Surely Claire would punish me for this.  However, when nothing happened, I risked a glance at the gigantic figure beside me.  I realized with a mixture of relief and terror that I was now held captive by a different sister.  At least this one understands that I'm a person.  This one tries to communicate with me.  

Then, I noticed the plate of food and water to my left.  Not even bothering to ask if I was allowed to, I scrambled the short distance across the desktop and ate.  I was in the middle of another ravenous bite, having eaten a good amount of the available food, when Ellie suddenly interjected.  "You probably shouldn't eat much more, you don't want to get sick."

Who the hell cares if I get sick?  I'm hungry.  I tried to keep eating, but she reached for me and I practically flung myself out of the way.  Trust me, I wanted to stand my ground, but I'd been attacked so many times for disobedience it was like a natural reflex to me.  My landing only made my bruises throb angrily, and I sucked in a harsh breath of air to calm the pain.  Ellie gave me a sympathetic look and poured me a fresh cap of water.  It only then occurred to me that I was very much her pet, all things considered.  I came when I was called, did as she asked, ate from her scraps.  Hell, I even cried right in front of her as she held me.  I didn't like that revelation one bit.  

"What do you want with me?" I asked, remembering our brief conversation before I passed out.  "If you're not going to kill me.. am I just your pet now?"  Ellie seemed shocked, which might be a good thing?  I watched as she looked between me and the plate of food next to me.  No doubt recognizing the sad predicament I was in.

She sighed, "I read about what happened to you."  Ellie leaned forward slightly and looked me over.  "You're Hailey Willson, aren't you?"  It was strange hearing my real name for the first time in who-knows-how-long.  I almost didn't recognize it.  "Yes, I'm Hailey Willson, a REAL person.  I-  I'm not a doll.. please, I-"  I what?  I'm tired of being treated like shit?  I just want to be normal again?  Was it not my own damn fault that I'm stuck like this?  

"Just.. I'm begging you, you have to understand."  But how could she?  Never in her wildest dreams would Ellie be in the same situation I am.  "I'll try to," she answered cautiously, "And you aren't my pet, or anything like that.  I do see you as a person, honestly I do.  I know how this looks," she gestured to the meager little meal she'd given me, "but I swear it's only because I was in a hurry.  You're not a pet, you're not a doll.  I.. don't know.. a friend, maybe?  That is if you're willing."  

I knelt, trying to process what I was hearing.  My head pulsed painfully against my skull.  "That's..  Thank you, I- I just don't feel like making any more life-altering decisions right now."  Ellie nodded, and I eased myself backwards until I was lying half propped up on a stack of books piled on the desk.  I closed my eyes and took a few shuddering breaths.  How had I screwed myself over so completely?  Everyone, even a little kid, has more control over my own life than I do.  Any of these people could do whatever they wanted to me, and I'd have no choice but to comply.  Sure, I would be treated, for the most part, like I should be here with Ellie, but that was entirely up to her.  If she felt like it, she could turn on me in an instant and I would be powerless against her, against any of them.  

This was all too much for me; I could feel hot tears sliding down my cheeks.  Not again.  I must look like such a pity case to Ellie.  No wonder she wants to take care of me.  Then again, I probably looked just as bad around her sister, but Claire had never so much as given me a day off.  I don't want to be 'taken care of', though.  I just want things to be normal.  A longing pain jabbed at me from the inside as still more tears seeped through my eyelids, now shut tightly. 

I'll never have a normal life, I realized in mental agony.  Even if I am a person, at least to Ellie, there are still so many things I’ll never be able to do on my own.  

While I sat hunched over in desperation, I began to wish that I'd never known I was human.  My life as a doll was terribly simple, but at least I didn't feel like this.  I cut myself off at the last moment, eyes flickering open.  You idiot!  Wishing on stupid shit is exactly what got you into this mess in the first place!

I gasped, realizing that I could've doomed myself a second time.  Slowly, I turned to Ellie.  She was still sitting next to me, hand slightly outstretched like she wasn't sure whether she should try to comfort me with it.  Her face was etched with worry; she looked almost as helpless as I felt.  It was slightly relieving to see Ellie so distraught — so entirely different from her psychotic sister.  I know that probably makes me a terrible person, but it’s reassuring to know that she actually cares about me.  Despite everything, I just might survive.

#again I don’t know what inspired younger me to write this… #this is the only one of my ‘old g/t’ stories still worth salvaging #The rest of them are either half-baked ideas or too short to be considered stories #g/t #giant tiny #whump #promptober/inktober

[michelleelizabethtanner]

Omg I hate Rio so much in Ch 5 😂 he’s like how dare you react to the baby being asleep when you forced me to oversee exactly one (1) nighttime routine which all in all didn’t seem that horribly bad lol. BUT this does feel so much like canon Rio, esp as we’ve established he can be selfish and not think about why Beth does the things she does - which to be fair Beth does too.

BUT CMON RIO, Beth being panicked about her baby being out of her sight after a terrifying delivery is what kept you away for weeks?!?! I do love the real ness of this story - people who can not communicate should not have a baby together & just expect to go on not communicating. Ending has me hopeful tho, rooting for this dysfunctional fam!!

AITA for forcing my baby daddy to hold our baby for a couple of hours while I cried in my car?

I sometimes think of what these reddit posts would be like because everyone on there is just as toxic as these two as co-parents. Even once she returns they never say anything of substance to each other. God forbid he’s like, “Hey, are you mentally ok? Because this was weird. Should you maybe see someone?” And she, of course, can’t possibly just like, “Hey, thanks for the cash but I’m drowning a little bit. I haven’t slept in weeks and maybe I might die if it keeps going like this so…”

For someone so in tune with who she is, Rio canonically missed a lot about Beth. Particularly her state of mind in 2.09, and her entire series of behaviors in s4. He makes a lot of assumptions and tries to covertly manipulate her into seeing him or loving him or choosing him. But their continued series of frustrating miscommunications is what kept them from saving each other from all that heartache. Especially once they both understood deep down inside themselves that they each wanted to be chosen by the other. So that’s what I’m trying to do here. These stupid, prideful miscommunications leading to all their mutual misery. She assumes he doesn’t want the baby so she hurts him, and he hurts her back, and she comes back more sharply to try and slice him deeper… So he continued that dynamic even after the baby came. He was looking for signs of being chosen, was ready to choose her, and when things didn’t work exactly how he hoped he just left and blamed her for it.

Honestly, though, while this seems so silly, I do think this actually happens in a lot of relationships after kids come. Men want to still be looked at adoringly and have their doting partners engaged like they were before kids. And women are just trying to not have their insides accidentally fall out while straining too hard to poop, and hoping for a continuous 45 minutes of sleep. It’s these disproportionate expectations that create rifts in even strong relationships. Kids can kill a relationship if the couple isn’t willing to be extremely empathetic, forgiving, and communicative.

I’m glad you saw the ridiculousness of Rio’s situation. He’s very much in his feelings and hopefully that makes him a sympathetic narrator. But I absolutely love how you put it — he was forced to oversee exactly ONE nighttime routine by himself. The horror, amirite? 😱😂

#My Girl #good girls fics #good girls nbc #headcanon #brio

[badnew2005]

LED ME TO THE FLOOR EVEN THOUGH IM NOT A DANCER (you showed me how to enjoy life, to do things that made me happy rather than who i thought i should be. dennis vs sinned. introduced me to a whole new life (charlie and the bar) and i couldn’t be happier. still some part of me thinks i should be Someone Else (life with maureen and mandy) but i know i’m happiest when i’m here with you) ASK ME ALL THE QUESTIONS THAT YOUR PARENTS WOULDNT ANSWER (same vein i showed you the way even though i’d never been. introducing mac to the idea that being gay is okay. pushing him to come out. they both taught eachother a new way of life, how to be happy. things that were hidden in their upbringing. dennis loving country mac because he’s out and comfortable with his sexuality)

HOW COULD I DENY A DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH (dennis inventing someone else to blame for creating the systems he lives his life through and the pain they caused. taking his heart out of his chest and making a diamond. following the dennis system should have made him a diamond, that version of himself “should” have made him into a diamond. if he had applied enough pressure. but it didn’t. it left him in pain. hating himself. wanting to die, desperately wishing to be someone else in every sense of the word (never escaping it). having mac think of making diamonds in the pressure cooker. he’s a genius and well loved by the gang now. he’s come out. how could i deny a diamond in the rough? how could i deny myself of you for so long? i’m the best version of me when i’m with you.) YOU LET ME IN YOUR WORLD UNTIL YOU HAD ENOUGH (macdennis making the closet (that hole in the wall) their home. dennis as an unreliable narrator (what’s actually happening what’s actual long being said and done out loud is hard to keep track of. it’s harder when i know the pains all my fault) we were happy in the closet i would’ve stayed hidden pretending to be other people with you forever. but you came out. and it changed everything) YOU KNEW THAT I WANTED YOU TO BEND THE RULES (it’s not your fault. i pushed you out (and stole the parachute) i forced you to come out. i wasn’t clear. i don’t know how i expected this to work out. shouting and begging for you to just come out but wishing against it every day.) HOW DID I BELIEVE I HAD A HOLD ON YOU (i’m sorry. i don’t know what i expected. i think i’ve spent too long pretending to be someone else, making You into someone else. i need to try and live in reality for once. it’s hard) YOU WERE ALWAYS STRONGER THAN PEOPLE SUSPECTED (i kind of hoped you would fail out of the closet. get malnourished without me. (im the invisible man who can’t stop staring at the mirror. i want to make you as lonely as me so you can get addicted to this) we made the closet our home but then i spun you around, blindfolded and stole your parachute before pushing you out of a moving aircraft. i kind of hoped you would get caught in the trees or splattered on some rocks. but you survived. you thrived out there. started creating a life without me) UNDERESTIMATED AND OVERPROTECTED (i’m sorry i make everyone mean to you. i was too scared they saw how much i liked you so. had to introduce poison (like a thirteen year old with a crush. but i guess that’s all i am with you- happy and in love and excited and terrified and Young again). i promise i don’t hate you really. i don’t think they do either.)

WHEN I WENT AWAY IT WAS THE ONLY OPTION (tends bar a glimpse into dennis Being Real. saying Something out loud. frustrated that the gang couldn’t see him. but mac did. mac could see Though him. that was too scary, it’s childish but it’s true. couldn’t handle the truth. the possibilities that could bring. dennis had been fighting for so long he had to run away (finally take flight) there was no other option. he wasn’t as strong as mac.) COULDNT TRUST MYSELF TO PROCEED WITH CAUTION (the thought of you knowing me was too much. i didn’t know what i would say or do. i’m sorry. i’m selfish if nothing else, but i don’t think that’s new) THE MOST THAT I COULD GIVE TO YOU IS NOTHING AT ALL (i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry. i wish i was someone else. someone better. but that’s all i’ve ever done and look where it’s ended up. i had to leave you get that right. it wasn’t your fault, not really. i’m sorry i pretended it was. and told everyone you were horrible and needy when that’s really me. i wish i could just Say something to you, anything real. but i would tell you anything you wanted to hear cause that’s just who i am. i promise me leaving was better for us both. im afraid i would have killed you and myself if i had stayed. a messed up xerox of romeo and juliet i guess.) THE BEST THAT I COULD OFFER WAS TO MISS YOUR CALLS (to separate entirely. give you a wrong number. try and cut off comepletey so i could be someone else someone new. but of course i still ended up crawling back home. maybe you’ve learnt how to live alone but i’m still weaned on your love.)

#TRY TO WALK AWAY BUT I COME BACK TO THE START!!!!!!!! #hot and heavy #maybeeeeee a hot and heavy edit will have to be in the works #sorry i was ab to explode #macden

[countrymusiclover]

108 - Like Father Like Daughters

Part 109

Gemini Runaway

@icefrye19 @secretdreamlandmentality

109 is the last chapter in this story ❤️

Bursting into my daughters bedroom the door’s almost broke off the hinges by how angry I was. “What the hell were you all thinking last night!”

“Mom, please don’t be mad but it was to get Elijah’s memory back. And to get our family back together like we are now.” Alina raised her voice at me getting up from the bed.

Missy and Hope remained sitting where they were at. But my youngest spoke up. We wanted our family back together, mom.”

“Girls urgh! Do you have any idea what putting that power back into yourselves could do? That it could kill you!” Covering my face with my hands I grumble loudly in annoyance.

Hope snapped back at me thinking that it would make this better. “We spared Henrik and Andrea.”

“Oh well then I should jump for joy.” I clapped my hands together with a sarcastic tone. “All because you spared your brother and cousin even though you forgot that this can kill you!”

Klaus vamped into the room aboto raise his voice until he saw something running down Hope’s arm. “When did this start happening?”

“Shortly after we took the power back, why?” She yanked her arm away.

Yet he grabbed her wrist holding it out for my viewing. “Oh we’re so screwed.” I cursed under my breath seeing the same black veins that I had dealt with years ago before we knew I was pregnant too

Rushing into the bathroom I threw my head down into the toilet for the fourth time today. Familiar hands pulled my hair away from my mouth hearing me lightly crying. “I’ve got ya, Rae. Let it all out…Shhh I’m here.”

“Ohh Nik. I’m so terrified right now.” Lifting my head up I wiped my mouth with a rag pressing my body against his chest still crying. “I feel like I’m dying….”

He put his thumb and index finger under my chin turning my head so I was forced to look into his blue eyes. “Listen to me, Raelyn Lane. You are not dying. Not while I am still alive and kicking.”

“But every time I do magic these….get worse!” Yanking up the sleeve of one of his Henry shirts I was wearing I bared my teeth. My hair was slightly in front of my eyes and my shirt was stained with my tears.

He slowly cups my face in his hands with his thumbs running over the fallen tears. His blue eyes focused on mine. “Rae, I promise you that nothing bad is going to happen to you. We will get through this. You’re not going to die on me.”

“I don’t wanna die, Nik. I don’t…wanna die!” Throwing my arms around his neck I buried my face into his shoulder. He tugged me to sit on his lap while he wrapped his arms around my waist. My fingers are gripping onto the fabric of his shirt.

Brushing my fingers over the lines on Hope’s arm I felt some tears falling down my face at remembering what that was like. Klaus and I both met the others' gaze before we whipped our heads around seeing Missy holding her head in agony. “Shut up, shut up, shut up! Incendia!” She throws her hands up towards the bed frame setting it on fire.

“Melissa! What the bloody hell was that for?” Klaus dropped Hope’s arm focused on his now heretic daughter.

She dropped her hands at her side, falling to sit on the floor. Alina moved around the bed frame lowering herself on her knees holding her shoulders. “Hey, everything is okay ... .dad ever since we took the power back..we keep hearing whispers in our ears and they don’t stop.”

“Is this the rest of our life? A rage that can only be quieted by violence?” Hope spat, turning her head back to me and Nik.

Reaching down I grasped his hand in mine looking up at my husband smirking wickedly. “Hope, if violence is what you need to feel better, then you have the perfect parents.” Klaus grinned the same expression back to our other two daughters.

It was a few hours before the five of us went downstairs since there was enough stuff in there we could break and not actually care about. Andrea and Henrik were out in the bayou with Hayley and Jacob. While Jackson was packing up some stuff to try and get Alina and him a cabin in the woods near the quarter. Looking from the balcony above I watched Alina throw her father down on the table with the flower pots. “Do it again. Harder this time.” He grunted slowly getting to his feet.

“Mom, do we need to do it this way? I don’t want to hurt you.” Missy asked, lifting her gaze up to me before I climbed up onto the railing before I jumped down on the ground perfectly fine.

Brushing hair out of my face I looked at my youngest. Even though she now had to drink blood to survive she had managed to keep the innocent side of her alive after she turned. “Honey, you’re dad and I are the strongest creatures in the world. Nothing you do can truly hurt us.”

“Motus!” She raised her hands where I got thrown against the family crest on the wall where I felt some bones break in my back.

I popped my back into place pushing hair out of my face looking at Klaus who threw his hands away from his sides trying to get Hope angry since she wasn’t using her full strength. “All of that pain, that simmering darkness. You need to purge it before it eats you alive.”

“Dad…” Hope held her head gripping her hair in her fingers.

Alina stared at me where I gave her a head nod and she launched me against the wall across the room. Holding my head I grunted seeing some stars in my eyes. “Woah I guess a werewtich’s strength is no joke.”

“Give me your anger, Hope!” Klaus screamed at her finally getting her to throw him. He landed right beside me against the wall.

Hope paced back and forth panicking to us. “It's not working.”

Klaus rested his head against mine where I put my hand on his knee trailing through breaths. “You're holding back.”

“You really think I want to feel this way? No matter how hard I try to get it out, I don't feel any better.” Hope whipped her head around raising her voice.

Missy came over to where we were standing. “We don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not the ones that caused our death and transformation…only that person will make us feel better.” Alina brushed her hair out of her face clutching her hands into fists at her side.

Hope nodded through tears. “You're not the one I want to hurt.”

Klaus raised his gaze up to our three daughters. “Give me a name.”

In a few short hours he came back and was dragging in Roman’s body through the main entrance and down into the basement chaining him up. He threw vervain on the boy so he was already weak. “Have you decided how you're going to kill him?” Roman attempted to break the chains but it didn’t work.

“They’re enchanted chains, Roman. Only a witch can remove them. You’re not going anywhere.” I explained to him standing beside my husband who just stared at him.

Hope mumbled hidden behind the corner. “Slowly.”

“Hope? Hope! Hey.” Roman called out to her.

Alina and Missy walked out into his view standing behind me and Klaus. “We want to do this alone….he doesn’t deserve a quick punishment. His mother didn’t give that to Missy.”

“What?” The young vampire boy muttered.

Hope questions finally step out into view. “This is supposed to help me feel better, right?”

Roman gulped. .”What's wrong with them?”

Klaus sat down in the vervain bucket where I crossed my arms over my chest. “She has an affliction, for which your pain is a momentary comfort.”

Roman asked. “My pain?”

Nik nods in agreement. “Mm-hmm.”

Alina snapped at him, flashing her hybrid eyes. “But I don't want an audience.”

“Girls.” Their father sent them a questionable look.

Missy added on looking at me softly. “If you want to help us, go….mom gets to stay.”

“Well, I was rather hoping to be part of the show.” Nik said with a dry tone leaning towards Roman and getting close to his face. “Well, consider starting small, then. Fingernails, or-or... perhaps the tongue. Build the suspense.”

Klaus nods at me before he leaves the room and Roman begins panicking. “Hey... hey, wait. You're not actually gonna leave me with them, are you? I know you won't believe this, but I've been trying to see you, okay?”

Hope stood across the room gripping the metal bars in her fingers. “You're right. I don't believe it.” She raised her hand sending pain through his body.

“I-I swear. My sister, she wanted me to leave the country, but I wouldn't go until I got to talk to you.” He dropped his head gasping for breath.

Hope scrambled into the corner. “Is this the kind of talk you had in mind?”

“Look, I-I know. Taking part in your aunt and uncle’s capture and tricking you, that was wrong and I know that.” Roman turned his head looking back at Hope who was standing behind him.

She raised her hand into a fist making Roman wince in agony. “And yet you did it anyway!”

“That’s only half of what we are angry about. Lihednat dolchitni!” Alina stomps forward grabbing Roman’s throat in her hand.

He struggled for air. “Alina ... .I'm sorry, okay.”

“That won’t fix it. There’s no apology in the world that will fix what your mother made me do to my little sister!” The werewitch growled, showing him her werewolf eyes before she did the spell that Kai taught me to make someone’s blood boil. “Phasmatos navaro pulsus sanguinox!”

Roman gasped sharply where he tried to break free from the chains but they only got tighter around his wrists. “Mrs. Mikaelson, I….I’m sorry….it’s just - urgh!”

“I don’t normally hurt people but you made me die…you….forced my sister to trigger her curse.” Missy raised her hand making him wince again and I could see his skin was bleeding.

Roman dropped his head struggling for breath while he began slowly healing from the wounds they had given him. “No, you... you have to understand. For years I've been told to fear you, every day, every night, stories of what your father did to mine, what you and your kind have done to us.”

Hope scolded him. “My kind?”

Alina stomped her foot on the ground where the flames in the room grew higher and then died down. “Do you not get that you have messed up my family. You made my mother go paranoid about her brother. You made me kill my twin sister while I was trying to stop your mother and yet you still think you’re innocent!”

“I…I never said I was innocent Alina. It’s just - ohhh!” Roman got cut off with Missy waving her hand and making pain shoot through his head and his nose was bleeding all the while I was just leaned up against the wall just silently watching my daughter’s. “No, no, no, I like you, Hope, okay? I like you, I really do. I just didn't know whether to listen to the voice in my head that said you were good or my mother's voice that said over and over y-you and your family…”

Hope moved around to stand in front of Roman with her standing in the middle of her two sisters. “My family's what?”

Roman gulped weakly. “Evil….And I wasn't strong enough to fight her. And I don't want you to forgive me. I just want you to know that I know what I did was wrong. Okay?”

My phone went off so I pulled it out of my pocket where I read a text message from Klaus that read 'How is everything going?' I texted him back saying that they were still in the process. Missy crossed her arms over her chest glaring at him. "Do you have anything else to say?"

"I…I can't fix what happened…and I really am sorry. I just wasn't strong enough to not listen to her." He gulped, gripping the chains weakly in his grip.

Hope nodded towards Alina who grabbed his chin in her grasp putting her other hand over his heart listening to it beating inside his chest very slowly which was a normal vampire's rate. "You have no idea what you took from me. You stole my innocence from me and I have to live with that for the rest of my life!"

Hope raised the dagger she had brought in up with her magic about to stab him in the heart but she dropped it kicking and screaming until she met my gaze crying. "Mom…I…I can't…kill him."

"Come on, girls. Let's find your dad." I ushered them out of the room leaving Roman chained there. The girls all sat down on the couch in the living room when Klaus came into the room seeing us there.

He slowly bent down on his knees tracing his thumb over meeting my gaze when he said his words. "All that power, still merciful. You clearly didn't get that from my side of the family.”

“This is only gonna get worse, isn't it?” I trailed off wrapping my arms around myself worried that we might not have another solution.

Klaus rose to his feet taking my hand in his and he tilted his head telling the girls to follow us. We ended up inside the church and I gasped recognizing the room from the vision Dahlia showed me years ago. There was an entire room of vampires and I saw that Greta Roman’s mom was here too. “There you go, girls. Just let it all out.” Hope, Alina and Missy intertwined hands turning away from us. Missy and Alina turned Hope’s hands red siphoning from her while I stood beside my husband. Together the three witches just gave it everything they had but what we didn’t know was that there was one human there and he wouldn’t make it.

#gemini runaway #klaus mikaelson x oc #oc : raelyn lane #oc : alina mikaelson #oc : missy mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x heretic reader #klaus mikaelson fic #klaus mikaelson x reader fanfiction #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x witch reader #klaus mikaelson x you #tvdu #tvd x reader #tvd universe #tvd fanfiction #tvd fandom #tvd heretic #the originals #hope mikaelson #britt robertson #madelyn cline #wattpad fanfiction #ask box is open for feedback #comments really appreciated #tvd #oc : jacob lane #hayley marshall #indiana evans #tvd fic #tvd witch

[quibbs126]

I don’t know why, but I’m just not feeling that great today

Not in like a sick way or that I’m tired, it’s just that like, I can’t properly distract myself/make myself happy, I just feel kind of miserable

Maybe it’s the realization I have to go back to college in two weeks (and I think at this point this place has just become somewhere that gives me nothing but anxiety. Not because of the actual place, but because I always have something big to worry over, usually because of my own inaction. And I don’t want to talk about it with my parents and I’m terrified that it’ll come up)

Maybe it’s because of the drama that was going on here earlier today and someone I like here is leaving (not saying they can’t leave, if they feel that’s what’s best for them I wish them nothing but the best going forward into the next year, it’s just that now I’m sad because of that)

Maybe it’s because I can’t get my brain to come up with ideas to think about and work on in general. I know someone’s gonna tell me I don’t need to work on my stuff 24/7, I can take a break, but that’s not what I mean (though I would like to work more on my stuff). My brain just needs something to think about throughout the day to function properly, and not much is coming up, or at least, not much that’s of any quality

Maybe it’s because one of the things I posted elsewhere just completely flopped despite me putting a lot of hard work on it (it’s doing completely fine on here though). Sorry, I’m a bit of an attention whore and I get sad when something I put a lot of work into and maybe I was feeling a little proud of after being unsure of myself just gets absolutely no attention. Granted if my posts get attention there is more of a coin toss, I’m not that well known there

Maybe it also has to do with the fact that I keep messing up this one rescue mission in Pokémon Mystery Dungeon because it’s an escort and the Pokémon I’m escorting only has 12 HP and is Level 1, so literally anything in this dungeon will kill it, and every time SOMETHING happens and they die, so I have to turn off my DS and restart AGAIN because I don’t want to be defeated in a dungeon and waste my in game day

I don’t know, I feel like I’m being repetitive. I just am not feeling that great today. I’m not really enjoying the games I’m playing and at the moment I don’t feel like drawing. Maybe I’ll see if I can do that later, I dunno

#I don’t know really #I’m just repeating myself #sorry #real life stuff #random stuff

[theocseason4]

hi i feel so validated by what everyone is saying about fearing death and natural disasters and stuff like i was always so aware of bad things that could potentially happen? i was irrationally paranoid of dying in my sleep or family members dying and i’d just get mocked for it by family?? like when i was a child if my dad left the house and i didn’t say goodbye i would be TERRIFIED that it meant he would die like i was always scared of not appreciating people enough while they’re here, and natural disasters scared me to the point where just hearing thunder would make me panic. my parents put me in school a year earlier than i should’ve been and they’ve told me before (while laughing) about visiting the school during lunch and seeing 4 year old me being terrified of the noise and other kids to the point of having a reaction. and it just sticks with me bc who knows how much anxiety and fear i could’ve missed out on developing if they would’ve taken me seriously as a kid, like being in school early definitely led to me being fucked up later

It’s so weird how parents will do that isnt it!!! Mine would, and still do, mock me stuff like that to and it just led me to having an extremely tough time actually voicing how I’m feeling because I don’t want to be invalidated/mocked