#and I quit not long after that because the mental illness in my brain decided we were going to do something else

[sofoulandfairaday]

Please share all of your Sirius and Bellatrix thoughts ♥️

I have way too many, darling.

The TLDR is it is our choices that show us who we truly are, far more than our abilities. The long version is under the cut.

When reading about them I usually prefer stories where their original 8-9 year gap is preserved (it annoys me to no end when people write the Order and the Death Eaters as entirely made up of people in the same couple of years in Hogwarts —really? Was the conflict exclusively waged by child soldiers? Were Dumbledore and Voldemort just chilling before 1977, when they decided to start recruiting?). With that being said, I can also enjoy fics where - for shipping purposes - their ages are more compatible, to make them share time in Hogwarts or during the First Wizarding War.

I think they are very, very alike personality-wise. The narrative draws some delicious writing parallels between them, both physically and in their expressions, vices and virtues, and choices. Directly between them, might I add. The author underlines the difference between Bella and Narcissa more than once, we're meant to see it, and similarly we're meant to see the similarities between Bella & Sirius.

They are haughty, passionate, powerful, competent, arrogant, bright, much more intelligent than the fandom thinks they are. In general, they suffer from the stigmatization that many characters - but some people in real life do too - that someone who is intense and impulsive cannot possibly be as intelligent as people who are meek, soft-spoken, generally more controlled. Think what the fandom does to Sirius vs Remus and Bella vs her sisters, when every arrow points to the fact that they are actually the cleverest in these pairings.

They are both some shade of mentally ill, and not because of the curse of the Blacks - half the Blacks went mad didn't they? What's the saying? Every time a Black is born the gods flip a coin. god the Targaryen-Black parallels are gold - Sirius is very likely horribly depressed in OOTP, something no one around him seems to understand, infuriatingly. The only one that seems to get it is Harry, who has the literal Dark Lord living in his brain (= bigger problems to deal with). Bella is... I don't know what she is, ask me after my psychiatry module next year, but my money is on PTSD after Azkaban - after all, she didn't have the escape of an Animagus form behind bars. She would also very likely be victim-blamed for these different feelings, which would lend itself to a delicious nobody else in the world understands us but us type of post-Azkaban dark!fic which I would love to read.

They are both skilled at magic, and while they might despise each other for their respective political views, they respect each other because of this. Bella is probably above him in terms of magical power and skill, because she's 9 years older and because of Voldemort's training, but Sirius seemed to be keeping up quite well with her during their fight in the DoM.

Speaking of which, I am sure that Bellatrix's scream of triumph was due to her winning their duel, not because she thought she had killed him and that is probably the single thing I love the most about HBC's interpretation of her in the movies. That look. 10/10.

I am of the opinion that Bella is all bark and no bite when it comes to certain members of her family, especially her sisters. Sure, she might say that she wants to prune her family tree but 30 years later in the beginning of DH, she still calls Andromeda sister. I'm sure she would want nothing more than to put him under lock and key for the rest of his life and never let him escape, not kill him. And, to me, the way Sirius speaks of his family is very interesting. I'm sure he firmly believes that he hates them, but his actual feelings are more complex than that. You can hate someone and still desire their love, their respect. You can hate that they are the only people in the world who understand you - and hate yourself more in turn, for it.

Sirius seems to me like someone haunted by his own darkness. He, much like Harry, would be constantly worried that he's becoming like them. I'm sure it's a weak spot for him and I wish we had heard more bickering, or at least a full interaction between Bella and Sirius (I feel like she would claim him as hers, underline how much he cannot escape his own blood, even just to mock him/unsettle him in battle). But what Dumbledore says to Harry is true: it doesn't matter how alike they are, it's their choices that matter much more. And I feel like this is why the two of them would never reconcile in canon. They stand for different things.

I also think there might be some - and I know Freud is controversial nowadays, but bear with me - penis envy, on her part. Because Sirius was born the heir - something she would have given her left hand to be: to be born and die a Black instead of being expected to marry into another family - and he squandered it all away by consorting with werewolves and mudbloods. But no. He got everything and pissed on it, and it's just not fair. And by choosing not to come back, even in the two years after Regulus' death, he made sure that the Black Family name will die with him- and I think that is just something she can never ever forgive him.

Now. Everybody knows I don't like TCC and my preferred view of Bella is someone with fertility issues, even to the point of being sterile.

[I read an amazing fanfic once and a line from it stuck in my brain - "If I can't be life, then I'll be death"]

But. If we do see it as canon. This is also the reason why - despite being overjoyed at Delphi's birth - I am convinced that she wished for a boy when she was pregnant. If she had a boy with the Dark Lord, who couldn't possibly give them his name, the House of Black would have an heir. This is also the reason why I don't thing she was necessarily opposed to having children with Rodolphus - the "spare" would have been her heir.

Bellatrix would say that Regulus was her favourite cousin, but truth be told, it was really Sirius whom she respected more - at her core, in my opinion, Bellatrix is really only someone who respects power. Sirius is like her that way.

But Bellatrix is clearly a cruel person, which Sirius is not (or at least, he tries not to be: Kreacher and Snape are two very particular cases of people who are mean to him back). Also, Sirius' view of the world is much more egalitarian - If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals. Bellatrix is clearly someone who sees the world in terms of hierarchies, and lives within them (see: how she acts around Voldemort and what is implied of her treatment of house-elves who obey their masters: there is a scale and some serve others, and as long as they do so well they have certain rights; disobey, you get punished).

(Bellatrix is somewhat a feminist character but let's be real- she's not a revolutionary. She went to the Dark Lord and showed him just how powerful she was - aka my wand is bigger than all these male DEs' - and he said "okay, fair, I'll give you the Mark", thereby freeing herself. She is not a "equal representation for women inside terrorist organizations!!" type of girlie)

I also love how her death parallels Sirius'. It's thematically beautiful and it excuses her death coming at the hands of one Molly Weasley (who could never ever in a million years have beaten her on skill alone). She dies because she is arrogant. It's one of her traits. Overconfidence. She was always meant to die like that.

[coincidentally one of the reasons why she would not be a hufflepuff like some suggest: this woman is not humble]

I could go on, but I think I've rambled enough.

P.S. Let's not sleep on the fact that the two of them together would be hot.

#sirius black #bellatrix lestrange #bellatrix black #sirius x bellatrix #asks #answered

[moroser]

[incoming long and personal and dark post]

it dawned on me that it’s april and that means it’s been 6 years since i stopped doing drugs. big achievement. i did weed the whole time, thinking i needed it to keep away from the worse stuff, but i stopped that too, almost 2 months ago now. everything i’m about to talk about i did without anyone in my life (offline) noticing and all by myself.

my entire life has been unstable and so difficult. and i mean difficult and sad. i used to drink pretty heavily, but i stopped when i found pills. i was taking pretty much any opioid i could find, i even stole them. i was text book addict with pills. i had every excuse to keep going with it, it made sense to me at the time. i was in so much pain mentally, emotionally, and eventually, physically. taking them was reprieve. 

eventually, i was taking so many a day, quite honestly i should have died. my brain was blank, i lost my creativity and i stopped drawing, which is the one thing i love the most to do. create. even though i did not stop, the fact i felt nothing in that realm anymore was heartbreaking. i’d spent several nights staring at the ceiling practically waiting to die. i had one dream that i can remember while on drugs and it was of me staring at myself opened-eyed and dead on my bed. it shook me.

the drugs affected my ability to think, cry and feel, then one day on my way to work, after taking so many, i got so sick on the side of the road on the freeway several times. eventually i pulled off into a town i didn’t know and passed out in the parking lot of a gas station for who knows how long. i woke up dazed with the taste of puke in my mouth, and totally dehydrated. i missed work, i was embarrassed with myself. i have no idea how long i sat there for before getting out of the car to walk around. eventually i made it home but i felt like i wasn’t the same after that. 

decided to detox (after trying before, and failing), which was the worst events i’ve been through in my life. took days, nearly a week to get over the worst of the symptoms. i don’t think i slept at all. i was so sick, shakes and chills, vomiting, etc. i let spongebob play for the entire time, that sponge grounded me lol. i’d made it through that time. and i stuck too it, using my desire to feel my creativity again and wanting to be better to my body to stay away from relapse. 

2017 i cleared my system of alcohol, pills, energy drinks, pop, and the only thing i’d let myself use was weed because i felt it would stop me from everything else. and technically, it did. it aided me for a long time. but the passed ~3 years i’ve been so ill with stomach issues and nausea and throwing up that i decided to stop that too. 

so now i’ve been completely sober for 1 month and 21 days. for the first time since high school i have nothing in my system that is altering me the way substance abuse has. it’s been a major adjustment. my focus is shit, my sleeping is difficult and my dreams are insanity. it literally feels like i’m sleeping just to wake up somewhere else because my dreams are so vivid and clear. i wake up every four hours having to adjust and remember i actually live here, not in dreamland. i didn’t dream at all while on drugs or weed, so in a way, i welcome the vibrancy of them. 

looking back, none of those things helped me. they only broke and shrouded my spirit with a darkness i don’t want to feel ever again. i want to be healthy and i want to give my body the chances that it deserves. i want to heal properly. i want to live so much. i want to find someone to be with that will understand me and accept me even with my flaws and history. i feel better already, but i know there’s still a long journey ahead and i can only hope it gets better. i deserve better. i know i’m a good person. i know i have so much creative potential in me and it’s what i want to give my energy and soul to.  

thanks for listening, if you read this. i am proud of myself for getting as far as i have but the support from my friends and strangers online has been a colossal sense of communal help i’ve never had offline. sharing my art has been a big help and just people enjoying it means so much to me. thank you.  

#tw drugs #tw death #journaling again cause its what i do #dont do drugs please. take it from me #tw addiction

[bebepac]

Sincerely, Lady Liberty

This is @choicesficwriterscreations week 2 Please be Prompt challenge for angst:  The quote for angst: Was it ever me?  will appear in bold.

This is also: @choicesmonthlychallenge​ july prompt for the 29th for mutual pining

The Series:  The Rotten Apple 🍎 The Book:  TRH & Beyond The Pairings:  Liam x Riley / Eleanor x Nico (Eleanor x M!OC) Ratings & Warnings:  Teen:  Mention of character death, mention of mental illness, profanity, anger, grief. Word Count:  4943 Summary: Nico loses Ana in the park, and  a veiled woman introduces herself to Ana.  Liberty intervenes in multiple lives in attempt to make them healthier.

Original post: 07/27/22 at 6:20PM EST

A/N:  You might not like or agree with where I plan to take this story from here on out to the end.  Heck I’ve had people tell me they didn’t like where it started. I told myself if this chapter went over 5000 words I would be splitting it into two chapters, and there would be two more chapters left of The Rotten Apple, and look where I landed.  I’ve had a lot of surprises along the way in this story and took it places I never intended, but overall, I am really content with this story.  I know that this storyline is not for everyone, but I am very happy with the story I have presented to this point.  And for the people who enjoy this storyline, thank you for going on this journey with me.  There is officially one more chapter left after this one, possibly two if I decide on an epilogue.  But here we go.  

"Papa look!!!"

Nico gazed up from his book to Ana as she stood at the top of the slide ready to go down, Ana smiled and waved at him.

Nico  waved back and proudly cheered for fearless Ana as she giggled as she went down the swirly slide at the park. She jumped up enthusiastically and she broke out into a little run heading for the ladder to climb up the playhouse again for round two.  

Nico returned to his book however, it was only for a moment,  just long enough for Ana to climb back up the slide’s ladder.  He glanced up again at the slide, expecting Ana to be at the top, but it wasn’t her, another child was in her place.

Ana must be next, he thought to himself, but instead another child emerged at the top of the playhouse.  

Nico abandoned his book, trotting over to the playhouse peering in. Ana  was not in the play-pen or on the ladder. The slow realization that something was not right, began to take hold. 

“Ana?”  

He did a quick scan of the playground not seeing her.  Nico tried to stay calm as he called out her name again.  

“Ana answer me!”   he yelled, the panic starting to creep into his voice. 

People were beginning to look at him; he was starting to get the attention of other parents in the park.

Relax, he reassured himself. She couldn’t have gone far. Ana wasn’t the type to wander away from him, but he briskly walked over to the restroom, a woman with a child was coming out.  Ana always knew to ask if she needed to go to the bathroom, but it was a lead worth checking.Nico quickly pulled out his phone, showing Ana's picture.  

“Did you see my daughter in there?  Please can you check and see if she's inside?”  

The woman paused to look at the picture of Ana. He knew what the woman was going to say before she even said it, her eyes looked sad and sympathetic, as before she even spoke she pulled her own daughter closer to her.

“No, she’s not.  We were the only ones in there, I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen her.”  

Nico completely lost his cool, as he began to frantically scream her name.  What if he lost her?  What if… something worse had happened, someone had taken her? Elle’s words from years ago rang in his ears.  

“Because of who she is, makes her a target, because of who they think I am.”

God! What if someone took her because she’s Elle’s daughter?!?!? He had done his best to shield her from the limelight, and he hadn’t noticed people lurking around them in quite some time.   Nico’s brain was running a mile a minute. His normally calm demeanor he had when he was a guard, completely disappeared and all he was in that moment was a frightened parent.  

“ANA!!!!!”

He sprinted the length of the park, fear gripping his heart, making it hard for him to breathe, his eyes expertly skimming the perimeter, looking for a child with Ana’s features,  when he finally caught sight of her standing  outside the gate talking to a woman who was kneeling in front of her.  Nico athletically traversed the fence with ease and barrelled toward Ana’s direction, at full speed.  The woman kneeling was wearing a veil that covered her face and was handing Ana ice cream.  

“Get the hell away from my daughter!”

 Nico screamed, snatching Ana away from the woman, violently pushing the woman backwards, holding Ana tight and protectively in his arms, the ice cream falling between them.

He realized his mistake as soon as it happened.

"Shit."

When the woman toppled backwards to the ground, he noticed the split second all of them mobilized at once. The Kingsguard descended on their position.  He immediately shielded Ana's eyes from the guard that had pulled a gun on him. He knew exactly who he had just hit.

"Hands off the Queen, commoner."

Queen Riley removed her veil.  

"Your Majesty, my apologies."

He immediately helped her up.  “Queen Riley I apologize, I didn’t realize it was you.  I was thinking the absolute worst.”  

“That happens when you’re a parent. I guess I could have handled things better.  I should have spoken to you first. I just wanted a few moments alone with her.”

“Ana, are you alright?”  

“Papa, I’m fine. She wasn’t going to hurt me. I know.  She showed me pictures of Mommy. Mommy was a real princess, like in your story?”

“Yes, she was.”  

“So the dragon is real?”

“We’ll talk about this later Ana…. Why are you here Queen Riley?”  

“You’re looking at me Nico… the way my daughter looked at me.  She hated me.”  

“I don’t think she wanted to Queen Riley, but that’s what she felt from you, so she gave it back.”

“And you?”

He embraced Ana tighter.  “Elle was very specific when it came to you, Queen Riley. She didn’t want Ana to be treated how she felt she was treated by you, and frankly neither do I. So I ask you again, why are you here?”

Tears filled Queen Riley's eyes.

“I don’t know…. I just wanted to see her, I guess.  All the pictures I've seen of Ana, that Liam showed me, reminded me of my Ellie.  She looks just like she did at that age. She has very happy eyes.”  

“Ana has her mother’s eyes, Queen Riley.”  

“I wanted to bring Ana a gift.  Most little girls want to be a princess.”

She opened the small box.  “It’s Ellie’s first tiara. I thought Ana might like to have it.”  

Ana wriggled out of Nico’s grasp, standing in front of Queen Riley.

“Is that really for me?”  

Riley smiled down at Ana.

“Yes, it’s for you. Do you like it?”

"I love it. Papa, I'm a princess too!"

“No, let me.”  Riley kneeled down, and placed the sparkling tiara onto Ana’s head, gently stroking the child’s locks carefully in place over her shoulders.  “Now you’ve been crowned by a real Queen."

Queen Riley was making it so difficult for Nico to refuse her.  

“Yes you are, but Queen Riley it’s too much, I can't let her keep that! Those are real stones.”  

“Let her have it? I’d rather her wear it, than just sit in a case in our jewelry room. You’ll take extra special care of it right Ana?”

“I will! I promise!!!  Papa? Can I keep it?”

He couldn’t say no to her, she had him wrapped around her finger.

“What do we say Ana?”  

“Thank you Queen Riley.”  Before he could stop her, Ana  threw her arms around Riley hugging her middle.

Riley’s body went rigid, her fists were clenched for a moment, her eyes closed.

“Ana….”  Nico started.

Riley unclinched her fists, and slowly returned Ana’s embrace.  

“Ana let her go.”  

Ana pulled away from Riley.  “Papa, it’s so pretty.”  

“You’re even more beautiful.”  

“You think I’m a terrible human being don’t you Nico?”  

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“I want you to tell me.”  

“I think…. you endured something horrible, and you’re still angry about it,  but your anger has been misdirected for all of these years.  Elle didn’t deserve it, and you ruined your relationship with her because of it, and you broke a part of her.  I saw Elle cry once because of it, insisting she didn't care about you, as tears streamed down her face. You did that to her. So yes, Queen Riley, I think you are a terrible human being, and I won't let you treat my daughter the way you treated your own flesh and blood because I promised Elle, I would protect our child. She deserves better from you, and so did Elle.”

Queen Riley nodded.

“You were brutally honest with me…. But I asked you for that. Ellie was fortunate to have you in her life then.  It appears you truly cared for her.”  

“I did, with all my heart, regardless of what people think of me.”  

"You mean do. You still do Nico. You wouldn't be so defensive over her still, if you felt nothing for my daughter."

That evening when Nico was helping Ana get ready for bed, he decided to bring up today’s events.  

“Ana, we need to talk about today.”

“The story is true, isn't it Papa?”  

“It is.”

“You were Mommy’s guard.”  

“Yes, I was for a little bit.” 

“And the dragon?”  

“Not an actual dragon.”  He thought for a moment to try to explain Elle’s condition in a way that Ana would understand.  “You know how you have a bad dream, and you wake up, and you’re afraid, but I’m here and I remind you that it was only a dream and what you thought happened didn’t?"

Ana nodded her head.

“Mommy can’t always tell what's real or not, and sometimes she sees people or hears voices that aren’t really there.”

“How do you get better?”  

“Sometimes you don’t. But Mommy’s trying really hard.   They give her medicine that helps.”  

“She can do it. I want her to come home.”  

“I know you do. But just know, I will  always be here for you.”  

Nico pulled Ana into a hug and  kissed her forehead, then  left the room, before his eyes filled with tears. Something about having a daughter had really changed him. He had become so much more sensitive over the years, caring for Ana.

 Ana still had a void in her heart, even though he felt he was a good parent to her, Ana still wanted her Mother, she still needed her mother. She needed Elle.

Elle

“You have a visitor.”  

“I only have visitors on my birthday. It’s not my birthday.”  

“Do you want me to turn her away?”  

“No… I’ll go.”  Eleanor wondered who it was, who she was that was coming to visit her.  Whomever it was provided a happy break from Ellie's usual routine.

She couldn’t contain her surprise when she walked into the room.

“Libby!”  She exclaimed.

“Hi Ellie."

“How did you get here?”  

“I drove.”  

“Wow! Look at you!!!!  You look so grown up.”  

“I kind of am.  It’s been  almost seven years.  How are you Ellie?”  

“I’m okay.  This place is kind of like the palace in a way,  people are always watching every move you make, and I can’t leave unattended.  The food’s better at the palace than here though.”  

Libby smiled.

“Yes, that was a horrible attempt at a joke.  I know.”

“How are you really Ellie?”  

Ellie's smile slowly faded.

“The truth….Do I still have the feelings and hear the voices that landed me here?”  Yes, but it’s dull.  They are constantly adjusting my medication so I keep them muted."

"What has it been like being here? Or is this something you don't feel comfortable answering?"

"I can answer.  It's been one of the hardest things I have ever done. There are times when I have been in complete war with myself and..  my inner demons. When I came back after Ana left with Nico it was a very tough time for me. I chose to be heavily medicated, because I couldn't deal with losing her. I thought being numb to the hurt was easier than facing it head on, and I couldn't face it. I walked around in a daze here for months. I don't know how, but somehow I just emotionally knew it was her first birthday."

Her eyes met Liberty's. "Do you want to know more?"

“Only if you feel comfortable.”  

"I almost forgot my baby's first birthday, I missed her so much, I thought it was easier to block the pain. 

She celebrated without me. Her mother, who loves her and wanted to be there for her. I should be there for her.  And I wasn't. After her first birthday, they wanted to try to wean me down off of some of the medications I was on, to see if I could handle it. At first it was so overwhelming because it felt like all the senses I had dulled by massive amounts of medication were immediately heightened.  Things got so difficult, almost manic. They thought it was best to increase my medication again, but not as high as it was, but then they brought me back down even slower again. When the emotional dust settled and the haziness cleared I tried to do little things for myself.  I read a lot,  and I continue to study Greek.  I don’t know why.”

“Did you get my letters?”  

“Yes, Libby I did.”

“Why didn’t you write me back?  Were you mad at me?  I never told, like I promised. I kept your secret.”  

“I did write you back, every letter I got, until they stopped.”

“They stopped, because I never heard from you, and thought you didn’t care about me.”

“I care about you Libby, even though I haven’t been the greatest at showing it.”  

Ellie reached across the table to touch her sister’s hand.

“It had to be Mother.  Father wouldn’t have kept my letters from you.  At least, I don’t think he would.  That doesn’t seem like him.”

“Father’s changed since you left. He doesn't say it but he looks so sad. He misses you so much.”  

“I messed up so many things, Libby.”

“Ana was not a mistake. She looks just like you Ellie.”

“She does?”  

“I wish I had a picture of her, so you could see.  Nico is a great father to her.”  

“I knew he would be.”

“I promise I will hug her for you the next time I get to see her. I asked Father to go to Greece with him the next time he goes to see her."

"Father is still a part of her life?" Ellie's eyes filled with tears.

“He never told you?”

"No.  I think when he visits he takes his cues from me.  Even though I want to know, I don’t ask, so he respects that and doesn’t share.  It hurts thinking about her on most days.  So I try not to.”

“Every several months he goes to Greece to see her. Nico's never brought her to the palace, but I understand why. He is trying to protect her, and you Ellie. So people don't ask questions."

“I wanted her. I wanted to be her mother, Libby. I wanted them both. I wanted to feel… something different.”

“I know. You wanted to feel love.  I could tell you loved him.  That you still love him.  

Nico is still single, I heard.”  

“He doesn’t love me anymore.

  The last time I saw him, Ana was a little over three months old. And he took her away, and he never looked back.  He just left me there alone.”

“I don’t think that’s completely true Ellie.  He loves your daughter so much, and she’s part of you; that means something. Have you tried to write to him?"

"And say what? I am sorry for what I did?"

"Is it the truth?"

"YES! I was wrong to hurt Nicolai. Nic was a good person."

"Then tell Nico that. Tell him you were sick and weren't thinking clearly. I think it would mean a lot to him if you told him you were genuinely sorry."

"Not after all these years."

"You should reach out to him."

"I can't Libby. He doesn't want to hear from me. He's made that painstakingly clear."

"I think you're wrong Ellie."

And now Liberty was going to prove it.

Nico, Ana and Liberty 

Libby knocked on the door.

She couldn’t believe she had done this. But she wanted to help  Ellie with something she didn't have the courage to do.

She heard giggles and then the front door opened.  She was staring face to face with Ellie’s daughter Ana.

“Hi Ana.”  

“Hi.”

Nico came running to the door.

“Ana!  I told you about just opening the door, and not checking who it is first.”  

“I’m sorry Papa.”  

He scooped Ana up into his arms.

“Liberty!  What are you doing here?”

Ana whispered something in his ear in Greek. Liberty only knew a little bit of Greek. To which he whispered back to her.

“Can I tell her,  it’s not polite for us whispering in another language in front of her.”  

Ana nodded.

“Ana wanted to know why you look like her mother. And I told her you were her mommy’s  sister.”  

Liberty smiled.  

“I am your mother’s younger sister.  The last time I saw you, you were very little. But I want to change that. May I come in?”

“Please come in.”  

“This is a nice home you have here Nico.”  

“Thank you.  I wanted to refuse, but your father gives us a stipend for Ana’s care, and to have a decent lifestyle.  Though, deep down, I feel like it’s partially for my silence because I never pressed charges against Elle."

Nicolai’s death to that day had still been ruled an accident.  The evidence simply just went away, maybe King Liam had something to do with that, maybe he didn’t.  Nico never heard from the detective again.  

“Can I ask you a question?”  

“Sure.”  

“How does she know about Ellie, and what she looks like?”

“Because I told her she has a mother, that her mother is sick. She’s seen pictures of her.”  

He walked over to the mantle  and brought the framed picture over to her.  

“That was the last Christmas I spent with Elle, when she came here to Greece with me for the holiday. I saw a side of Elle while she was here, that I don’t think many people saw of her.”

Ellie was wearing the pink dress that Nico had bought for her.  Nico next to her, in a nice navy suit, his arm draped around her, his fingertips resting comfortably on her hip. The two looked very happy together.  Ellie looked so content standing by his side.  Ellie’s smile in the picture was incandescent as she gazed towards the camera.

“I am in this picture too.”  Ana announced proudly.

“You are?” Libby inquired. "But I don't see you."

She pointed to the picture.  “I was in Mommy’s tummy.  She’s sick, but she’s coming home when she gets better.”  

Libby's eyes widened as she looked at Nico.

"From the mouths of babes." Nico responded. He gave her a little kiss on her cheek, “Ana, go play.”  

Once Ana was out of earshot Nico softened his voice.

“I don’t have the heart to tell her Elle’s never coming home.”

“Who’s to say she can’t?  I went to see Ellie at the hospital."

“You did? How is she?”  

“She looks like she’s aged so much being away.  She has streaks of gray in her hair.”

“Well she’s not the only one with some gray now.”  Nico softly laughed, running his fingers through his own hair.

“She tried to crack bad jokes too.  She still loves you Nico.  You know she loved you. The two of you meant everything to her.  I think that’s what caused her psychotic break, losing the two of you. Nico, she has given up.  And I think she would fight harder to get well, if she knew she had the two of you waiting for her.”  

“Liberty, she killed my son.”  

“And she regrets that, and she wasn’t well when she did it.  But you still love her.  If you didn’t love her, you wouldn’t have pictures of her around to show Ana. And you sure as hell wouldn’t tell Ana about her. You would have poisoned Ana against her mother, but you didn’t do that. You still love Ellie right?”  

Nico wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Go see her. Tell her. Get her out of that horrible place. So she can come home like Ana believes she will.

 That sweet little girl deserves her mother, who loves her. Ellie wants to be her mother.”  

"Elle doesn’t want me.”  

Liberty laughed.

“The two of you are so insistent that the other doesn’t feel the way they feel, and you’re not asking the one person that could really give you that answer. Stop wasting time Nico.  Go to her.”  

“Elle asked me for one thing the whole time we were together. Just one thing.”

"What was that?"

"A house. This is the house she wanted. I still built it for her."

"Because you love her. She still loves you too. Please go see her Nico, and bring her home."

"Did she say it Libby?" Nico inquired.

"She didn't have to. Her actions spoke louder than her words. Just like your actions.  I understand how the two of you fell in love. You are two halves of the same soul. Go see her Nico."

Liberty smiled to herself.  She hadn't planted the seeds in both their hearts,  she was simply the florist that gave the seeds a little water and fertilizer and sunshine hoping their love would rebloom.

Nico and Elle

Nico found the courage a little over a month later to make the trip to Portavira to see Elle face to face. He decided it was best not to take Ana with him as he did not know how Elle would react, and honestly, he didn't want Ana's first meeting with Elle in a place where Elle couldn't leave.

It had been years since Nico wore a suit but he decided to wear one that day.  He shaved  and had gotten a haircut.  

He waited for Elle to be brought into the room pacing nervously.  

“I thought I would never see you again.”  

His back was to her, she saw his whole body stiffen and turned around to face her.  

“Elle.. Eleanor.”  Nico cleared  his throat.

“You can still call me Elle if you want.  I didn’t know it was going to be you that was my visitor.”  

He watched her try to smooth down the flyaways of her hair.  Her hair was inches longer than he remembered it, and had streaks of gray throughout it, as Liberty had mentioned. Her hair was in one long thick grecian side braid, lazily slung over her left shoulder. Elle was not quite as thin as she used to be, but still had her hourglass figure. His eyes traveled slowly down her form. Elle was as beautiful as he remembered, even more so, casually dressed.  Elle tried to straighten out the tiny wrinkles of the simple pale azure dress she was wearing; She looked insecure.

“I must look…..”

Nico immediately shook his head.  

“No, you look fine.  You look well. You're beautiful Elle. You've always been beautiful."

A slight flush of pink blossomed on her cheeks.  

"Thank you.  You're wearing the suit from our Christmas trip."

"It's just a little tighter than I remember." Nico smiled as he patted his stomach; Elle returned the smile.

"It still looks nice on you. At least I think it does. You look handsome."

"Thank you."

Her cheeks felt as if they were on fire because his smile still made her weak. Six and a half years had passed since they barely said good bye and he whisked Ana away. No, she actually felt dizzy as he walked towards her.

Nico immediately sprang into action. He still had his cat-like reflexes from being a guard and had caught her in his arms. Her head fell into his shoulder, and she took a moment to just breathe him in.  He was wearing the same cologne she loved. Nico smelled exactly the same as she remembered.  She rested her head on his shoulder a moment.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry, the medication makes me feel lightheaded sometimes."

He helped steady her on her feet, leading her to the seat, his grip tight around her supporting some of her weight.

Once he assisted her to sit, he sat across from her.

"Is that better?"

"Yes, thank you, Nico……Why are you here to see me?”  

"I don't know." Nico's voice was soft and he sounded unsure of himself.

"Not that I'm complaining.  I'm not. It's really good to see you."

“I am not being truthful, Liberty came to see me.”  

"She did? I’ve seen her recently too.  She told me she believes in us."

"She believes in us?"

"That we can fix ourselves and be happy together, that we still…. Have feelings for each other."

Elle's cheeks turned bright pink, recounting Liberty's words.

"When Ana saw her, she thought she looked like you."

"I didn't think you would tell her about me…. What did you say? How does she know what I look like?"

"I have that picture of us from Christmas up so she will know where her features come from, what her mother looks like, what you look like Elle. There is nothing about her that is me Elle, she's a miniature version of you. She's quiet at first, and when you crack her shell, she's kind, funny, and boisterous. She’s a little bit bossy, like you, but I don’t mind, and she's so intelligent that she makes me feel dumb sometimes."

"Is she good?"

Nico's face softened as he stared at her. He knew what she was really asking.

"She's good Elle."

"Are you sure?"

Elle's eyes filled with tears.

"Yes, I'm sure. I keep a very close watch over her."

One of Elle's prayers has been answered.

"Then she is like you, Nico, and she has your smile. I remember. Does she still have it?"

Nico took out his phone showing Elle pictures of Ana.

"She's so beautiful. Look at her. She's perfect. She still has your smile. What did you tell her about me?"

"I told her that Mommy was sick, and that's why she couldn't be with her. I didn't want her to think that you didn't love her. Because, I saw how you looked when you held her when she was born Elle, and how we took care of her together those months after.  It killed me taking her away from you the way I did. I know that you love her."

"I do, but you didn't look back, Nico."

"Because I couldn't, because it hurt so much."

"You broke my heart, Nico."

"You broke mine, when you killed my son."

"I'm sorry. I really am, I regret it every day."

Nico burst into tears. "I believe you."

Both were silent for a few moments. It was now or never in Nico's eyes. Liberty had brought the two together again, it was time for him to take a leap of faith.

"You need to get better, Elle.  Our daughter needs you. She wants you to come home."

"Home?"

"Yes home, to our home."

"But, do you want me there? You really want me there?"

Nico looked down at his feet for a moment.

"You know Liberty has wisdom beyond her years. She saw it when I talked about you. Fight for us Elle. Get better so you can come home to us. PLEASE! We need you."

She shook her head no.  

“This isn’t real, I’m dreaming. This isn’t happening right now. I’m going to wake up any moment now.”  

“Elle, I'm here right now.  With you.”  He touched her arm and she smacked it away, standing up laughing in his face.  

“You’re good. Showing up as him to say everything I have always wanted him to say to me. I can see right through you. You’re not going to fool me!!!!”

“Elle, it’s me.”   Nico insisted.

“You’re playing games with me thinking I’ll fall for it.  SHOW YOURSELF!!!  YOU’RE NOT HIM!!!!!  You’re not going to get me!!!!  You’re pathetic!  How dare you?!?!  I don’t love you!!!  I don’t want you!!!!  LEAVE ME ALONE!!!”

Her words seemed to physically push him back from her. There were tears in his eyes.  

“Was it ever me?”

“What?”  

“Was it ever me that you truly wanted Elle?”  

“Of course I wanted Nico.

But things like this don’t happen for people like me.”  

“Liberty was right about you Elle.  You gave up.  And you feel like you have to convince yourself that I’m not really here right now putting  it all out here on the line for you. Why don’t you believe me Elle?”  

“BECAUSE I DON’T DESERVE IT!!!! I’M A BAD PERSON!!!!!  The things I’ve done, the people I’ve hurt.  I don’t deserve to have what I want.”  

Elle burst into tears, Nico inched closer to her, pulling her into his arms.  Elle didn’t fight him.  

“What I see is a person, who made some really bad choices, and clearly has remorse for them, and is living in a place of guilt isolating herself from people that truly care about her.  I care for you Elle.  I never stopped, which is why I ran, because I was so conflicted. Those words you told me that last night we were together, that I said back to you, I meant every word."

“It’s really you Nico?”  

“Yes. It’s me!”

Her prayers had finally been answered.

"Fight for us Elle. We're waiting for you. We've always been waiting for you. Please come home to us."

"You really mean that? Are you sure?"

"Yes, your home is with me and our daughter Elle. We want you to come home.  We’re waiting patiently for you Elle."

Nico embraced her again.  “It’s alright Elle.  I’m here for you. I’ve always been.  And that’s sort of your fault.”  

“My fault?”  

He smiled at her, his fingers, gently lifting the necklace she was wearing  from under the neckline of the dress.  Elle was wearing the heart necklace Nico had given her that Christmas so many years ago.

“I told you that you had my heart, but you never gave it back to me.”  

After Nico left  Elle requested an emergency appointment with her therapist.  

“I’m ready Doctor Stanley.”  

Dr. Stanley smiled.  

“This is the Eleanor that I’ve been waiting for  to finally show up all this time. Let’s get to work.”  

Before Doctor Stanley could prompt Elle with a question, Elle began to speak.  

#bebepac writes #the rotten apple 🍎 #choices fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #please be prompt #choicesmonthlychallenge #elle x nico #evil ellie rys #evil drake #Queen of cordonia #liam x riley

[antiradqueer]

Idek like if this fits in this blog I don’t even use tumblr for the community; I use it for images and customization and whatnot but I’m accidentally 2 am doomscrolling and…

The transid stuff is truly baffling to me like it’s so beyond me. I dunno if it’s just a new breed of severe mental illness or if it’s just heaps of attention seeking. Either way from what I’ve seen it’s just plain. Just insane. I’m also confused as to what they even are? Are they trans identities as in genders? Or are they just throwing around the word trans because they’re privileged and just. Can?

Firstly, I am black and trans which comes with day to day struggles. I didn’t wake up and stretch and yawn and go yep I’m gonna be trans. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t be trans. I wouldn’t want to put myself through constant oppression just because of who I am and how I feel about my own body and how I want to present MYself. It’s painful and I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. So WHY are these people deciding they want to make their lives harder? Fully, consciously deciding that they want to change themselves purposely. Now I’ve always known I was trans but I didn’t always identify as trans because it didn’t feel right or I was scared to be judged. You cannot choose who you are but you can choose how you label yourself (which I’ve seen some crazy harmful stuff but that’s a different story.) So the fact that these people are CHOOSING to identify in ways that harm others and erase the trans community just does not make any sense to me.

Now. On to “transrace.” This has got to be some of the most privileged shit I’ve ever heard of in my life. I could probably guarantee you that a fat majority of these radqueers are white. Let’s say there’s a person who is white, but is deciding they want to say they’re black. Firstly, why??? I understand cultural appreciation but why do you want to change who you are to pretend to be someone else because there’s a “desire”? A desire to what? Be discriminated against no matter what? Not be able to graduate/get a job because of your natural hair? So on and so forth? I just don’t understand. These people are begging to be oppressed. And for what. What do they gain.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand, but I also think I’m fine with that. I don’t partake in discourse and I’m all for ‘to each his own.’ While I am not for people ignoring genuine harm being done (like the paraphiles or whatever they’re called aka groomers??? pedos??? traffickers????) I don’t believe that in the long run, it will affect either side. However. Transid people really do need to stop; especially ones acting on it in their actual.. away from the screen lives. I saw a post about a transid that revolves around intrusive thoughts. I suffer from intense intrusive and impulsive thoughts that often cause me to fall into intense episodes of mood swings, anger, confusion, depression, and more. I would NEVER romanticize these thoughts and make an identity for them. If it’s a coping mechanism, sure do whatever helps. But don’t bring that shit to others. Don’t glorify violent thoughts and mock real identities. It’s sickening.

I digress. Im stepping fully away from social media after tonight, but it was nice to be able to write this out and process how backwards we are evolving. Honestly, I will be fine with completely wiping the idea of transids away from my brain and continuing to lead a normal life.

TLDR:: I’m black and trans and I find radqueers/transids sickening, privileged, and harmful. Just my little tangents and tidbits on this subject that is quite new to me.

Bonus! I saw a genuine radqueer transid identity that was called “transartstyle.” Where one desires to have a different art style.

…

Stay safe out there

absolutely great points, i can never really get into breaking down tranrace like you did so first of all thank you,

i do think that alot of the transid/abled etc. stuff is some kind of new either mental illness or some kinda coping mechanism (or hell maybe it just is privilege and attention seeking), something like biid in a way or maybe something even similar to munchausen syndrome but not exactly it either, still doesnt take the harm those lables do away theres other, less harmful lables out there.

thank you so much for your piece here, and hey, dont let radqueers ruin your time online, especially since you dont do online discourse n all, anyway thank you and stay safe

#anti radqueer #anti transid #anti transabled #anti transrace #anti trace #anti transautistic #anti transill

[raytorosaurus]

do you have any advice on getting over post tattoo anxiety? i just got a new one four days ago and it’s the biggest and most visible one i’ve gotten so far and i keep crying and feeling sick when i look at it. it didn’t turn out exactly how i imagined and i can’t stop spiralling about it now

aw i'm sorry!! brains can be very weird about change at first, you're not alone in feeling that way! but you'll get used to it. i'm sure it's actually great and you're just in the processing-newness stage - but even the worst case scenario is just. you'll have a tattoo that might have looked a little nicer to you if it was a little different. and that's not a huge deal tbh. it's just ink! as long as it's nothing offensive, why regret wanting it? and you got it because you wanted it - you got to change a little detail about your body by choice, and you chose to put a bit of art on it, and that's objectively cool! there's no such thing as flawless art and no such thing as flawless bodies and anyone who tells you different is either bigoted or trying to sell you something. remember what it was that made you want the tattoo in the first place, no matter how inconsequential, and hold onto that instead of focussing on the unsettling newness of it.

and like i really mean it when i say body alterations are cool. not in a social-capital or beauty-contest way, but because bodies can be hard to live in and anything that makes you feel a little more grounded in and connected to the one you have is a positive thing. my tattoos genuinely comfort me when i'm having a random chronic illness flareup and i can look at them and think about how i can save money and get as many as i want and it won't be because of genetics or illness or some accident, but because i wanted to. and on top of that i now take better care of my skin because i want to look after my tattoos. and i think of them like that tbh - as little dependents to take care of.

obviously everyone's different and not all of this is gonna gel with you, but genuinely i think what it comes down to is just...well this might sound like a cop-out but deciding that you want to like your tattoo is the first step. i bet you'll get emotionally attached to it very fast if you make yourself think of it affectionately a couple of times - the real emotion will follow. i bet soon you'll notice that some of the things that didn't quite align with your mental image will become things you love or appreciate about it. that's your little friend y'know. perfection doesn't exist and you can love a tattoo just because it's yours. sometimes adjustment just takes a little initial effort.

#i hope this doesn't sound condescending or fake deep i rly mean that! i have one tattoo that i kind of wish was visually a little different #& i pictured it much smaller #but i didn't want to ask the artist to change the design she'd worked on because i'd left my request so late #and now i still think it'd look nicer a bit smaller but like. i genuinely don't care because i love this little guy and it means a lot to m #also sorry this is from hours ago i hope you see this <3 #answered

[gillianthecat]

NaClYoHo Day 5

I did not end up doing the dishes yesterday after all; I decided not to even try because I kept getting coughing fits whenever I stood up. But I did them this morning, despite really not wanting to. I wasn't too tired, I'd just kind of lost the momentum of doing things and the novelty of being sick was wearing off. But getting the dishes done felt good, and I looked out the window at the misty rain on my neighbor's roofs and the distant orange and green trees and at the water droplets on the spiderweb in my window frame, and it was all very pretty.

I still had some energy after the dishes so I wanted to go for a walk but then I decided to fold my clothes from the drying rack first. And I did it! I didn't put them away, mostly because my dresser situation is chaos right now and that felt overwhelming, but I did put them in tote bags to carry upstairs when I have the energy.

And then I did go for a walk in the not quite rain. When I went to Ireland when I was five they called this kind of weather "soft out" (or so the family story goes, I haven't checked if this is true) so that's what my family always calls it. It also felt really nice; sometimes I forget I how good it feels being outside when I'm holed up in bed for a long time. I walked to the end up the patio, checked my energy levels and then decided I could go further and so made it about halfway down the block (which is the equivalent of a whole normal block, my block is very long), and decided it was time to go back. According to my magic watch, about 450 steps altogether, lol. But that's more than I had the energy for yesterday.

I've been complaining on here about being sick a lot but that's because I'm enjoying feeling like I can complain about it. Usually when I'm stuck in bed for a long time it's because my ADHD brain is refusing to do anything else and there's so much shame and embarrassment around it. So being forced to do nothing because of physical illness feels wonderful in a way. It's not my fault I'm not doing anything! My body is to blame! I have no choice but to lie here and watch my shows! I physically can't do the dishes right now!

So I am a little anxious now that I'm on the mend about getting back into cleaning. And I have a hard time evaluating my capabilities to do things even at the best of times. But I do think I can honestly say, based on my physical energy levels and not just my ADHD desire to shirk work, that I still can't do that much. Therefore the plan for today, beside the now typical doing dishes and keeping trash contained, will be to do more loads of hang-dry only laundry (enough to fill the drying racks) because a) I have a lot to get through, and b) it's convenient to have it hanging up now when I can't do other cleaning so it's not in the way. Even though drying is slow on a wet rainy day like today. And then, only if I still have energy, maybe a load of dryer-able clothes because that is low mental effort.

🔲 dishes

✔ replace trash can bag in room

✔️ keep trash contained

✔️ gather two loads worth of hang-dry laundry

✔️ wash first load

✔️ wash second load

✔️ hang first load

✔️ hang second load

bonus round:

✔️ wash regular load

✔️ dry regular load

✔ fetch and fold clothes

But I'm going to rest a little more before starting any of that - watch this weeks ep of Big Dragon and drink some hot chocolate.

afternoon addition: well, gathering the laundry and carrying it downstairs was exhausting. So I'm not going to do the bonus round, but i will attempt to wash and hang everything already down there. Should be doable even if tiring.

evening addition: i had momentum and the laundry basket was right there ready to go so I ended up doing it. even though i got exhausted folding it I'm glad I did; it's so satisfying to a) have it done and b) replace the boxes with check marks.

#housekeeping with gillianthecat #gillianthecat hates being sick #naclyoho #this tag has basically become my semi-public diary #it's kind of like those recipe websites everyone hates where you have to read a whole random story before you get to the recipe #but instead of a recipe you just get a list of two chores

[slowpokesami]

Volo headcanons 2

TW: depression, mentions of suicide, mental health issues Sooo here I am again; I just wanted to post the whole thing about Volo and my headcanons about him About his past and background

Have you ever wondered about Volo’s past? On the games he tells us the world is an unfair place and seems very hurt by this idea, and this, together with his behavior, gives us a proof that his past was not easy or at least that he's gone through some traumatic experience; he doesn't act like, say, Ghetsis; he doesn't act like someone who's bad by nature. Honestly, to get to the point of decadence he shows us on the games I really think he was hardly abused, maybe by other guys from his generation, but more likely by his parents and/or close family; that would explain him developing some kind of personality disorder or mental illness that later caused his psychopathy. After all, this would have been the way his brain developed to protect him from his bullies. (I have to make clear, though, that even if I know about psychology I am not a psychologist so don’t ever take my interpretations as something totally accurate and don't get me wrong, I know most people who has a mental disorders or illnesses are not psychopaths, I, myself have ADHD and all my closest friends have some kind of neurodivergency). Later he isolates himself, angry with the rest of the world, and discovers Pokemon myths, and the more he reads about them, the more interested he is; he starts believing in Arceus as it gives him hope and decides to dedicate his whole life to the creature, and that makes him isolate even more. He thinks the other people are trash and are bad because all he’s gone through, and that’s why he starts dreaming of a better world and slowly developing his god complex "I am the only good person in the world". He starts planning meeting Arceus, as he thinks the pokemon can provide him his perfect world and at the same time (and maybe even more impotantly) he hopes for "god's recognition" as that would make him a divine creature too (or so he thinks), and gets obsessed with this idea. Probably he just thought Arceus was his only hope for a better life for him; at this point he probably starts working as a Ginko Guild merchant because it’s an easy way to leave home and scape from his old life, starting a new one based on his Arceus’ search. His obsession is clearly reflected on his clothes during the last battle towards him; I mean, at this point, he has definitely lost his mind. I also want you to think about that time he says something like "you, at least, have your pokemon, I don't even have that" - meaning he feels really alone, and, eventhough I think he really loves his pokemon (I'll later develop this point), this would also prove that he doesn't have (human) close friends.

Why would he want to hurt Arceus if he is obsessed with it? I think what he doesn’t see but it’s quite obvious is that what he really desires is not Arceus per se, but his power. The fact he invokes Giratina to defy him totally proves this point. Volo doesn’t care about Arceus even if he thinks he does, as I said before, Volo has a God complex: through his last years he has really believed (or tried to convince himself that) he is better than the others, and that gives him the right to create a new world getting rid of the actual one, together with its people, pokemon and everything. And he doesn’t care hurting Arceus because of this reason. He looks for his perfect ally: Giratina, who also wants Arceus’ power, using it to defy Arceus and dominate it – I mean, some people say Volo wants to kill Arceus, but as long as I understand what he really wants is to dominate it – and use it for his dream. 

But after all, his god-complex and slightly narcissistic personality is just a wall to hide behind his insecurity and loneliness; he hopes to find in the new world he wants to create all the love and comprehension he never had. Volo makes me feel kind of sad and I feel empathic towards him, but I am conscious that he, after all, is just nuts. Go to therapy, Volo, please: we want to love you

About his song

You know what? I head-cannoned his story in part because of his song. Most of you have probably noticed how special this is; totally a master-piece from my point of view. Apart from the obvious reference to Cynthia, the song has a lot of different parts, and I linked them all to make a story; his story. Let’s analyze it step by step:

The Cynthia reference is played in a way it sounds more dramatic than Cynthia’s actual theme – I think it wants to represent his traumatic infancy; the first part, that is only played with piano, represents his loneliness and the second part, which sounds harder, represents the abuse towards him.

Then in the third part we can appreciate more instruments, I think this represents the moments he spent alone reading and learning about history and mythology

The fourth part sounds more epic; I think it is the moment he started reading about Arceus, and how it changed his life

We have a most cheerful moment as the fifth part, which I interpret as the happy days after discovering his God, and how he started having faith for a better life; this is probably the happiest era of his life.

Then later in the sixth part we have a more dangerous tone, which for me implies the moment he starts planning on defying Arceus to create a new better world; and how his good intentions and thirst for knowledge turn into something really evil.

From there on, I think it all represents Volo’s decadence and how he turns crazier every time consumed by his depression and emotions.

Finally when we beat him, we can appreciate a last piano intervention, which closes the combat. Even if we all know he shows us Giratina later, for me this part is predicting the moment the main character beats him and all his craziness gets to an end, which supposes a sharp blow for him, probably making him meditate about all that happened and disappearing.

What happened to him after that…? Cogita’s and Lavender’s comments, together with the contradictory speech he gives us after beating Giratina, make me think he really meditates of all that has happened, but who knows what he did after that… in the beginning I thought someone like him would commit suicide, but honestly… something tells me he didn’t; maybe because of his reaction after losing wasn’t as crazy as I expected. This makes me think maybe he wasn’t completely nuts and he still had something inside telling him he wasn’t acting for good. I am not really sure about this, as the character is full of contradictions, and I think this is genius because it makes him act in a very natural way according to his personality, so congrats game freak for this. My headcanon is he just took a break somewhere far away or in some hidden place, maybe Cogita’s house, and after it he went on working as a Ginko Guild merchant while telling people about Hisui’s myths and history - or maybe he even becomes a hisory teacher! Even if he says he would come back and blah blah blah I can’t imagine him committing any other stupidity; it looks to me as he only said he would come back because of his pride and the jealousy he was feeling at the moment; He acts as a very emotional person after all, so this makes a lot of sense to me Maybe Game Freak just wanted an open end to make a sequel, that’s another possibility; in this case I would like to see what happens, but it seems like they already forget legends exists to anounce pokémon Españita Scarlet and Violet

About his relationship with his pokemon team and his true nature

But you know what? I don’t think he really is evil after all. Why I say that?

If we take a look, most his team is formed by pokemon who evolve with friendship- to me it only can mean two things; the first one is that he manipulated pokemon to use them as he pleases, and the second one is he really loves his pokemon. And what makes me think the second one is the correct version? Two small details: the first one is his Lucario; if we read his entry on the pokedex it says Lucario can see people’s aura, that means he knows if someone is manipulating him or not and who is trust worthy. Also if he has him since he was a Riolu, the pokedex entry literally says Riolu can read people’s emotions and also he loves good people but hates bad people, so he would have never accepted Volo, making it impossible for him to evolve. The other small detail is a photography hanging on the front of Dagero’s photo studio; if we take a look, there’s Volo and his Togepi happily posing on there; why would Volo take a photo with his pokemon if he didn’t love it?

I have read people saying it was just made to emulate Cynthia’s team, but I don’t think it’s the only reason. Why? Because Game Freak never does something randomly; not in pokemon. We see similar things happening with other villains appart from what I am saying: Cyrus has a crobat; I think the pokemon team tried to tell us: hey, this guy is not evil, he loves his pokemon! He just has a huge depression that makes him want to erase his feelings. And now look at Ghetsis; now he is really evil, he is probably the baddest character in all pokemon games… he has a Hydreigon who uses the move “frustration” (for those who don’t remember, frustration is a move which gets stronger the more the pokemon hates it's trainer). So it just makes no sense it wasn’t intentional with Volo. Some people also says the last team is not the same as the one he has during all the videogame, meaning the Togekiss he has is not the Togepi he’s always had and same with Garchomp and Gabite;  for the same reason of game freak always doing things on purpose I also think this theory makes no sense. I mean, if they wanted us to think he uses another pokemon team, they wouldn’t have used the pre-evolutions of two pokemon Volo has on his final team. What would be the point of doing this after all?

He also tells us he wants to create a new world, but we don’t know how he imagines this new world. From the things he says I can imagine he just looked for a more fair and lovely world. What do you think?

Other details that make the character just excellent

There are some details I really appreciate of Volo as a character. For example, as I have been saying, his small contradictions on the things he says and does. It can be clearly seen at the end of the game: First he tells us his story ends when he loses to us in battle, giving us the spooky plate and looking kind of reasonable, but then when he sees our Celestical Flute turns into the Azure Flute, he acts with jealousy and says to us he totally refuses giving up. Then later professor Lavender tells us Volo encouraged him to finish his work with the pokedex though also telling him this would probably be the last time they ever met. I think this is all excellently made and thought and shows clearly the kind of contradictions I was talking about. His behavior doesn’t follow a logic; instead, he is highly emotional. He can’t accept losing at first, that’s why he yells at giratina how pathetic he thinks they is. Then later he turns to us and acts in a more responsible way when he gives us the spooky plate, like admitting that, if he lost, it may be for some reason; he accepts it is just his destiny. Then he feels really hurt when he sees the Azure flute meaning we were chosen by Arceus, and that’s when he gets mad at us yelling what I said before. How he is feeling when he meets professor Lavender again can be discussed, but I think he was feeling very sad and depressed; we can see his good face telling the professor he makes a good work - and being interested as he always is with everything related to knowledge – and on the other hand we have what he said about “the last time we meet”; I think he really was contemplating suicide at the moment (that’s why I said before I had the head canon of him killing himself), I don’t know what to think about the reason, though: if he was lost because life lost sense to him, if he reconsidered all that happened and was deeply regretful for being about to destroy the world, maybe both? It can also be he just wanted to mean he was thinking about travelling to another region, but it makes no sense because Cynthia was born in Sinnoh and she is clearly his descendent.  Maybe he wanted to travel through the space-time rift? It makes even less sense because without the spooky plate and Giratina, how does he open it again? And yet we still have the same problem: Cynthia was born somehow. But well, don’t forget she can also be descendent of some Volo’s sibling or cousin, or maybe Volo had sex with someone leaving them pregnant before leaving, we don’t know.

Another detail I love is how he gets crazier and more evident as the game advances, cause it also shows his highly emotional behavior. I think I am not the only one who remembers how he gets impatient while talking to Cogita about the plates or how he crazily laughs when he tells us about Giratina, right? Or how, the nearest we are to battle him, the more he appears everywhere. Some may not notice he is the bad guy, but anyways he is every-time more evident, caring every-time less about his ways, which could have made us highly suspect him and leave the plates mission (at least, if we were able to do it!)

So yeah that's all. Thanks if you read all of this looooooong text of mine. To be honest I wrote it some months ago and now that I am reading it again it is kinda interesting, I guess... Anyways I don't know how you have had the patience to get to the end of the post, my ADHD ass wouldn't let me even start. Thanks again and see you in the next poooost!!! if you have any suggestion about characters or stories you want me to headcanon about send me a PM and I maybe write about it if I have the time and motivation Love, Sami Luu

#volo headcanons #pokemon #pokeblog #nintendo #videogames #pokemon characters #pokemon opinion #gamefreak #merchant volo #gingko guild volo #legends arceus #pokemon legends #pokemon volo #pla #pla volo #pla headcanons

[ofhouseadama]

Interested to hear ur therapist’s suggestions about developing a sense of self or identity.

so like, caveats that this is the type of emotional work where you Absolutely Do Need an established support network and physical and mental safety and that my therapist and I are working specifically with enmeshment trauma so I don't know how broadly all of this applies:

your brain figures out early (from birth to age 4, if we're talking about developmental trauma/developmental brain injury) what it needs to do to survive your needs not being met. if your needs are not met year after year after year in development, your brain is not going to develop correctly. you will effectively have a brain injury due to your amygdala, specifically, not developing correctly

for me, my brain figured out pretty young we had to integrate into the family system (the enmeshment) or we were At Risk of illness, injury, and death

and it wasn't even wrong! I almost died so many times as a child! I was successfully isolated and groomed for sexual abuse! there was so much abuse and neglect! it's a lot for a toddler to cope with!

and in order to cope with a situation in which you have absolutely zero control and zero agency, you begin to reject the Self

you cannot hate the situation or hate the people safely. you can't. they can decide to stop feeding you and stop watching you and stop meeting your needs at whatever marginal amount they are bothering to meet them. "needs getting met" is already running on critical. we are in a pokemon battle and every hit is critical. the music is getting intense. we are a level two pidgey of a toddler

BEYOND THAT, we as humans are literally evolutionarily designed to love our caregivers in childhood. we are social by design. we have survived as a species by being social and creating extended family networks to rely on

so when your family and caregivers decide to betray that and create an Enmeshed Family System you are gonna have a Bad Time

(obviously there's a spectrum between like, huge network of support friends and family and alloparents and the Village and like... what I was raised in, or worse, this is about broad strokes)

anyway, you reject the self, you being to hate The Self because you are constantly running a threat assessment and integrating the voices and perspectives and identity of the people RUNNING the enmeshed family system which means you feel the family feelings, you have the family emotions, you believe the party line and do all the cognitive dissonance and mental gymnastics and adopt all the modeled behaviors because doing otherwise means you will Be Harmed

so when you eventually grow up and go 600 miles away to college because you fooled your parents into giving you a VERY long leash because you watched your two older sisters fucked up and get punished and fall back under control again and again and again so you make sure to do the OPPOSITE OF THAT

no one quite notices when you finally slip the leash

they DO notice when you try to tell them the entire family is fucked, that the house is on fire, and why does no one want to change this???

and then you surgically extract yourself from the family unit and change your behaviors and work on learning new relationship behaviors and communication styles and what boundaries are and how to have them and respect them

but are still so, so distressed all the time

and then one day you're 29 and the traumatologist you've been referred points out of course you're distressed all the time, you're still mentally integrated in the system and running threat assessment and listen to your mother and your father and your sisters because you never developed your own voice outside of your writing because it's never been safe to

and so the therapist has you slowly name the voices/perspectives one at a time and identify them when they start to react in a situation and learn how to slow down and run an ACTUAL assessment of a situation and trust your own instincts and your own judgment

anyway we're starting with my mom, who we've named Susan and we're working on telling Susan to shut up and to let Emily feel her feelings or trust her judgment or decide what gives her joy or comfort and what Emily's priorities are

and being comfortable sitting in the discomfort of not knowing things about myself and being willing to try things without factoring in or worrying about what Susan says about it

I already have some practice with this because my first therapist and I named my suicidal thoughts Karen, but they weren't so much a person as like, my life going completely sideways as I absorbed the fact that I had been abused my entire life in all the ways a person can be abused

#ask #anonymous

[notafatalfemme]

Aliah and I bonded through the weirdest and most outrageous dynamic: she wouldn't stop talking and making plans. And I wouldn't stop disappearing and cancelling them. I never felt judged when I decided to ignore her calls or constant messaging, although I am quite sure she was in fact, judging me, with Asian killing eyes. We realised then two contradictory things; we had loads in common yet nothing was similar in our lives. Aliah is wild, flirtatious and straightforward when drunk. I tend to be shy, isolated and never say things upfront unless mad or hurt. Aliah is way smarter than me, however gets easily distracted. She is always in constant motion, she's obsessed with recycling and when things get boring and there is nothing else to do, she always finds something to put her mind into. Wether that'd be ordering 5kg of almonds ergo learning and baking every single day a new recipe to get rid of the huge pile of seeds. Or, she could actually go out alone seeking for company, friends and attention in pubs, beaches, trips and parties. Or, in extreme cases, becoming such a workaholic that losing more than 10kg is expected because she simple forgot to eat. Me, on the other hand, enjoy listening to music, watching films, reading books and letting myself get carried away by my pure and sole imagination and fantasies. I have a hard time connecting with the tangible and real world, I'd rather be alone, in silence, by myself and submerge in a spiral of existencial thoughts and emotions, to the point of feeling numb and paralyzed of everything I have overanalyzed and realized: that we are all going to die and nothing we do actually matters. Nevertheless, Aliah is always there, in a call, a message, a ring bell, to tell me random shit that has happened to her or that has come to her mind, she is always finding ways of detaching from her head and experiencing new realities, worlds, hobbies, senses, interests and new people -even if she doesn't like them at all- and for that Im grateful; she forces me to do the exact opposite of what I am naturally drawn to: getting so stuck in my mind that I hardly get out of my shell. Somehow she succeeds and I end up at parties, events, pubs, beaches and situations where my one and only thought consists on killing her for bringing me there and then killing me for actually complying (this is not literal lol).

Our friendship faced distance, really long distance, a pandemic, lost in translation talks, chats and calls. We both left the place that we hated and loved with our souls and hearts, the place where we met and probably where we'll meet again. It's funny that after spending so much time together and feeling a bit inadequate around everyone else in our own specific ways, we never suspected a thing from one another. We just thought that was who we were, a persistent "it is what it is" whenever we felt like we didn't belong and we were doomed to be alone and misunderstood; two creeps wandering around town with odd reasoning and humor.

Almost 4 years later after saying our last goodbye, we experienced the hard and difficult times that early adulthood brings without any warning; we struggled with work, family and relationships (ofc, people could see it coming). And after carrying out very private and internal processes of constant questioning about our thoughts and actions, after seeking help in doctors, witches, friends and family, we were both diagnosed with mental health illnesses.

I still remember, very neatly, when we both told one another our diagnoses. It felt like a huge relief that was inevitably followed by an uncontrollable laughter when we realized that we actually bonded through our mental imperfections. Our insane and constant thinking and our never shutting off brain, one that never ever stops talking, assuming things, planting absurd scenarios in our heads and making us believe that whatever is going on up there is in fact happening.

I love Aliah to pieces. Our friendship, mentally and emotionally problematic, is in fact a breeze of fresh air of true love in this cruel, sick and sad world. My sweet Aliah, this post intends to - publically - thank all gods, time passages and coincidences for making this amazing trip happen. For reuniting me again with you, my UK family and my personal yet unreliable psychiatrist. Love ya xx!

[cyanidefilledcandy]

Decided to try the ballet class again and actually made it through the entire session this time! 😄✌🏾

Truthfully though, I am struggling....and I don't mean physically (though that IS another annoyance and a big reason I couldn't finish last time). It's mostly mental though.

A big part of it is concentration and memorizing the moves, which has always been an issue when it came to me and ballet, but the older I've gotten the worse it has become. (And yes. Even when I started up again in my early 20s, it had gotten a LOT worse.....and in everything; not just ballet. So it's not something I can simply chalk up to age.) I don't know why, but it's like when she's explaining things and giving advice, it's like my mind just kind of blanks out completely. I can't even say it's wandering because there's nothing else on it besides how I'm trying to listen and it's just like my brain isn't processing any of it. :/

I saw a post on Reddit once and someone mentioned Brain Fog as a symptom of mental illness, you never hear about. And I know if it sounds cliche' these days, but honestly.....I felt so seen. And not alone. And not.....dumb.

A huge huge insecurity of mine is appearing stupid. I know for a fact that I'm not (in fact, when the [redacted] cult tried to recruit me, they mentioned my high IQ). But as a teen, I started getting depersonalization really badly, where I just always felt like I was in a dream. After my grandmother passed away, it's like my mind had woken up or came back to reality, but now it was in a constant fog.....a fog that's continued to day and has only gotten thicker. A fog where I forgot basic grammar and math rules, even though I legitimately used them everyday. A fog that causes me to stutter and forget words while speaking (why I've always preferred writing to speaking). A fog that straight up made me forget how talk a couple of times (and no that's not an exaggeration....I literally could not form words. A fog that got so thick to the point where a few years, I literally could not form thoughts.... something I still haven't fully recovered from.

Sorry. I went kind of on a tangent there....but it's so frustrating that this constant Brain Fog is keeping me from doing the things I love; not just dance, but drawing. Writing. Crafting... And I don't know what to do about it. I don't even know the cause, if I'm being completely honest. I've wracked my brain trying to at least get to the root of why, so that MAYBE healing is possible, but....

Another big factor is just my frustration in myself. I'm not an absolute beginner in ballet, but I've felt that way ever since I've started taking ballet as an adult. My teacher would go through simple steps and phrases and I just felt like a moron because I'd either forgotten what they were or just couldn't find them in my brain at all.

I know in reality, I've only done three years of ballet....and even that's pushing it...

It was an elective class (in place of PE) at my middle schools. 30 minutes to an hour a day, sometimes 5 days a week....sometimes only 3. And we never stayed on ballet long (maybe a month and half each school year) because my classmates were more interested in modern/hip-hop. So in truth, those three years, I was not properly trained to say I am knowledgeable in ballet.

I know that logically.

However, my Perfectionist nature hinders me as always....because I feel like I don't even know the basics. Because I feel like I should be able to get through a beginner class with no issue. Because everytime I make a mistake, my mind screams at me "This isn't hard! Why don't you know this?! It's a fucking plie'! You should know how to properly do one by now! You could do this a decade ago with no problem! What the actual fuck?!"

So, I get frustrated and immediately want to quit. (Have always been someone who would rather not try, than to try and fail. Like literally if I thought I would fail a test in highschool, I literally would just not even try and accept a flat 0 than to try and fail.)

And then also, I'm frustrated with myself because I'm over 30 and should be above all of this. It's like I'm going backwards in life. Even as a kid I understood that perfection wasn't a thing, in art, beauty, or anything else. And though I had my moments (such as having a full crying fit the first time I got a B on a PROGRESS REPORT), I've definitely gotten worse.

Besides my stomach (which though self conscious, I still fully accepted), I've never given a damn about my looks or what others thought of it. Now it's constantly on my mind.

I used to draw and draw and didn't give a damn because I liked doing it. Now, I'm terrified to even pick up a pencil because I know it's not going to be what I picture in my head.....and I'm just going to fuck up the perspective. Or the coloring. Or not get the pose exactly right. Or....

I'm just so sick of letting fear and brain fog holding me back from my creativity. I miss moving and creating. Doesn't have to be perfect. Doesn't have to get a ton of likes or comments. I just miss doing things. And with dance.....it used to be the one thing I could do where I legitimately didn't care about my body size or how I looked. I would dance randomly in the grocery.

I just want to get back to being that person.

*sigh* This wasn't where I was intended this blog post to go... (Word vomit, I suppose.)

......my point doesn't even make sense anymore, so....fuck it....

I just want to get out of this fog in my head and back to moving and creating without thinking. 😕

#cyanidefilleddiary #if you actually read this through to the end.....I'm so sorry #but thank you for caring about me and my bullshit #I don't deserve you....but appreciate you wholeheartedly nonetheless #ballet #dance #mental illness

[blahberry-pancake]

So, I guess this is goodbye.

I've decided that the best thing for me to do right now will be to quit cc making. And before you all freak out, no I will not be deleting any of my cc. It's all gonna be available for you on Simsdom and my Tumblr page with everything on it.

My Patreon page will be hidden though and all exclusive content from there will be made public like right before this post so look below. There wasn't much exclusives there anyway.

First off, I really want to thank all of you for all the love and support you've given me throughout these... almost 5 years? Wow it's been that long? Anyway, thank you. If not for you, I'd probably never get to start my journey with 3D design and discover a passion for it.

And this is where I'll explain why I'm leaving for the curious ones.

So, I'm not gonna lie and sugarcoat anything. One part of cc making for me was the money, the other part was of course my passion for creating and seeing people enjoy what I make.

I had hoped I could make it my job and be able to support myself. Like I mentioned in a few posts before, I suffer with a lot of mental illnesses that prevent me from normal work and as you know, other people in the community have been able to make cc their jobs. So this is why I opened my Patreon. But it's been over a year and it didn't really kick off and things started falling apart. I stopped posting as much as I used to due to health and family issues. So not providing enough and not being good enough for people to support me on there was constantly on my mind, ironically preventing me even more from being creative. Plus disappointing the rest of you guys on here too.

But enough of that. Thanks to the support of my family through my recent mental breakdowns and everything, I've decided it's time to look for a job that could give me what I need. Money to support myself, medical insurance and finally, stability and routine. I'm a person who really needs routine in my life. And I'm getting way too old not to have stability either.

I want a job with a set amount of hours a day to work and then when that's done, I can do what I want. CC making couldn't give me that. I was constantly working. I never really had actual free time. When I did try to have a break, I'd feel bad for "procrastinating". I need time for my brain to unwind. To have that set time for relaxation and for work-time clearly divided.

So the only jobs I could do and qualify for are remote jobs. I found a whole lot of job offers for people with my skills to work for actual game studios! Mobile games, PC, whatever. What counts is that I might have a chance to actually do this and work in the gaming industry.

And even if that doesn't work out, there are other remote jobs I could try. Before shit hit the fan in the world, almost nobody offered remote work. And now it's almost in every offer so people like me can finally work too. I really need to try my luck with this. I'm sick of surviving instead of living. I haven't been able to look at my Facebook page in years because it constantly reminded me that people I went to school with are now either successful or just have stability in their lives and don't struggle this much. So that's the reason(s) I'm leaving.

Right now I need to focus on my mental health, polishing my resume and my portfolio. It really feels bittersweet because I really did enjoy giving you guys new content and being creative but it's time to spread my wings, try new things and maybe finally become a responsible adult. Once again, thank you all so, so much for the love and support you've given me. It was an incredible journey. I'll still be looking at my Tumblr from time to time so I won't be completely gone, just not making anything new. You might see some occasional likes on your posts here and there. And I might do an update after some time if things do work out for me. But... Goodbye for now! ❤️❤️❤️

#what a way to be dramatic lol #thank you for the memories

[miss-kittyy]

Rewriting Briarlight and Longtail’s Deaths

So I am disabled, like very disabled, I am %50 of the teenagers ever diagnosed with my special combination of pain disorders, and I also unfortunately hyper fixated on warrior cats, which is bad news for me because warrior cats is super ableist, and to add insult to injury, the fandom can also be pretty ableist.

My biggest problem with the majority of “anti-ableist” AUs is that they “fix” the ableism stemming from the narrative and able bodied characters by making the disabled character less disabled, this so bad for many reasons. I’ve talked more about in other posts. The justification that real life disabled cats are less doesn’t make it not ableist, since when was warrior cats meant to be realistic? If you’re making an au where the disabled cats function like actual disabled cats you also have to make all the cats genetically accurate, and retcon Lionblaze lifting a tree.

My problem with warrior cats is not that the disabled characters cannot become full conventional warriors, I’d like it if they got to choose what duties the perform instead of being crammed into the medicine den, but I don’t care about Cinderpelt not being able to complete a marathon. Most of the fandom seems to think the issue is that the disabled character are not useful enough, instead of the way that able bodied characters deny of them agency and make remarks like “you wouldn’t want to return to a life like her’s would you?”. Disabled people do not need to be “useful” to be worthy and empowering.

It’s very obvious that most of the fandom just wants the disabled cats to be more palatable to abled bodied people, so I’ve decided to make my own rewrite instead to hopefully make myself feel better. A lot of these things are inspired by my own experiences and not every disabled person is looking for the same things in representation, this is totally self indulgent.

The goal of this AU is to highlight the many unique and valuable aspects disability and how being disabled does not infringe upon anyone’s worth, ever.

- Longtail doesn’t die in the storm, Briarpaw is still injured, but he’s found besides her, trying his best to help her cling to life.

- after Briarpaw begins to recover he stands up to Millie and other cats insulting her quality of life, he says her journey will be hard, but it is one worth taking.

- She asks him why he’s an elder, and he decides to request to have his warrior ship restored as Briarpaw is dreading the life of an elder.

- On his first patrol the cats accompanying him insist on speaking to him in an incredibly infantilism tone, and whispering amongst themselves over what he can or can’t do, without consulting him,

- He initially gives up on patrolling after that insufferable experience.

- Briarlight begins to create marks and blobs on the wall of the medicine den using crushed up dead herbs she asks him to retrieve some berries for her, and he complies.

- Jayfeather shows him how he navigates the territory with the help of some of the sighted cats, and Mousefur is quick to volunteer as his guide. He finds her company surprisingly empowering. He realizes that it was not his blindness which was limiting his abilities, but the other cats attitudes.

- Mousefur and Longtail return with mouthful of berries and herbs, Briarlight describes to him what she’s drawing on the side of the den and he helps he mound the materials into paint.

- The cats begin to pop into the medicine den to see Briarlights painting and soon Jayfeather has to kick her out occasionally so they’d stop crowding him, she’s given the walls of camp to decorate instead.

- She begins to illustrate Longtails stories of the old territory and Bloodclan, and this new form of storytelling becomes a tradition amongst Thunderclan.

- because more young cats are aware of the clans history it becomes harder for the dark forest to recruit them, unfortunately, Blossomfall’s resentment towards her sister means she never cared to listen.

- Ivypool is still recruited and trained like in canon, given her relationship with the dark forest was much more emotionally charged and manipulative than just plain lies.

- at a gathering Longtail meets Grasspelt who inquires about Briarlight, Longtail is surprised about how little he knows as the she-cat had mentioned how well they got along as apprentices. Despite Millie nagging him not to tell him the truth about her daughter he does anyways, but puts much more emphasis on how well she’s doing than Millie expected. Grasspelt thinks this sounds really cool and decides that he is going to see her and her paintings, and that nobody can stop him. Longtail makes sure to put any opposing cat in their place, but Briarlight is a very respected Clanmate, so most warriors don’t say anything.

- Briarlight is nervous and doesn’t want to come out of the medicine den at first, but when Grassheart darts into the den holding berries and flowers for her to paint with she quickly warms up to her visitor.

- Grassheart is happy to tell Briarlight that he’s never been able to be a “functioning” warrior, and that he has always imagined that his spirit is shaped different, the medicine cat says his body is normal, but he’s never been able to keep focus in a fight or react as quickly as he should be able to while hunting. (He’s autistic because I say so)

- As dusk nears he’s visually hesitant to return to Riverclan and when Longtail inquires on why he says that he hasn’t felt so “here” for a long time. On the way back he wanders off and comes back with a chipmunk, when returning to Riverclan territory his father, Mintfur, is shocked to see his catch. After talking with his family a bit he realizes that it was the noise from the river that was making him so tense and dissociated, Brackenfur, who was escorting him, notices that he keeps rubbing himself on the ground and wincing.

- For the next couple moons Grasspelt returned to Thunderclan to bring Briarlight plants that only grow in Riverclan territory, he begins trying to fish from the quite lazy stream in their territory and soon both him and Briarlight have got it down.

- Longtail notices the sadness present whenever Grasspelt left and exclaims that it’s rather stupid that he’s living somewhere so unsuited for him just because of words long repeated.

- Grasspelt confesses that he feels the same, but knew he wasn’t supposed to say anything. Briarlight tells Longtail that her and the Riverclan warrior had been thinking of each other as mates for moons.

- Longtail accompanies Jayfeather to the next half moon meeting where he proposes his addition to the warrior code, “no cat should be confined to laws which harm them due to an inherent physical or spiritual difference.” (Cats don’t really know how brains work, so they see mental disabilities as a difference within a cats spirit)

- A moon later the leaders meet to discuss this proposition, it is accepted and Grasspelt makes the journey to Thunderclan for the final time.

- Grasspelt is renamed Grassspirit when becoming a Thunderclan warrior, unlike prior renaming of disabled cats this is a celebration.

- Grassspirit spends most of his time taking care of the elders and kits, he’s incredibly compassionate especially with kits and is able to solve many problems within the nursery.

- When twigkit and Violetkit arrive in Thunderclan Briarlight and Grassspirit help raise them, after Violetkit is taken Briarlight and Twigkit paint her on the side of Thunderclan camp.

- Briarlight still gets sick and her illness progresses without any treatment, Grassspirit notices her trying to hide it and when Longtail finds out he’s very upset. Jayfeather frantically treats her, expressing his frustration that she didn’t tell them sooner, the second Millie steps out she breaks down and explains that she just wanted to deal with it herself, and perhaps if she were successful Millie would finally treat her like an adult.

- Longtail gives Millie a stern talking to, he tells her that Briarlight is a warrior of Thunderclan and as her clanmate she should show her some respect.

- Millie is inherently very reactionary, as she had not realized the full extent of her suffocation, but eventually after a couple moons her and Briarlight begin to rekindle their relationship, like adults.

- Blossomfall sees how Brairlight wasn’t basking in their mother’s attention like she imagined, and feels the urge to seek out an actual sisterhood after ignoring Briarlight for moons and moons.

- Briarlight isn’t really mad at her sister, and understands why she felt the way she did. Jayfeather suggests that Blossomfall help Briarlight with her painting, Blossomfall seems put off with the suggestion of being her sister’s assistant.

- The interactions that follow are less than ideal, Blossomfall commends Briarlight’s able friends (Thornclaw, Poppyfrost, Alderheart, etc) for being so nice to her, as if that’s not what friends do. She seems very sad the entire time, sighing when her sister dragged her legs around with her mouth to sit more comfortably, even though she was completely fine. When watching her paint she comments that it’s good she has “something to keep her busy”, and finally she expresses her view, of Briarlight’s injury and her (Blossomfall’s) suffering being all worth it because of her talents, as if her life was not worth living to begin with.

- Briarlight tells her that if that’s truly what she wants she’s going to have to put more effort into understanding and respecting her way of life, and that she won’t apologize for their mother’s actions.

- When Blossomfall has her kits they take a liking to Auntie Briarlight, and Blossomfall seems to have reflected on their past interactions, trusting her sister to watch her kits. Briarlight teases a bit, a subtle way of telling her not to rush things, but they do begin to feel like something close to sisters.

- Right before Briarlight’s Nieces and Nephews are made warriors Longtail dies of Greencough. Throughout the entirety of his sickness he kept his sense of humour, his mean streak, and his immense love for what he had made of his clan.

- At his vigil Grassspirit began whaling like a bird in new-leaf, he insists that the vigil is too sad, and that Longtail wouldn’t want everyone moping around, for Starclan’s sake, his life was good. Standing amongst them, Longtail’s spirit can feel every cat in Thunderclan standing around him, singing the song of a life well lived.

#I imagine grasspelt as a chill stoner dude #next I’m gonna revamp my Ivypool PTSD headcanons cause I also have that lmao #warrior cats #warrior cats ableism #ableism #disability #warriors #briarlight #Grasspelt #briargrass #was #Longtail #warriors au #autism #warrior cats au #wa riot cats rewrite

[themanip]

late nights

SUMMARY — you and bang chan are both equally as stressed out. your solution?  sleep with each other. boom, problem solved.

PAIRING — bang chan  x  reader  WARNINGS — mentions of stress and mental health problems, unprotected sex, soft!dom chan, mentions of kinks, really soft, really cute smut basically, crying (not sexually), sad thoughts, angry and frustrated emotions, angsty GENRE — heavy angst, fwb, coming-of-age kind of, smut, romance, porn with a hint of plot WORD COUNT — 4.9k, i got carried away my bad

“How do you deal with stress?”

Chan’s question wasn’t ill intentioned by any means, and as you both sat in his studio, you pondered on whether or not to actually answer truthfully. “I mean, you’re the leader of two more trainees than I was, and navigating as a girlgroup is much more difficult than boygroups,”

“Do you want the honest answer, or the more appropriate answer?” you crossed your legs, Chan’s couch feeling quite comfortable. He stared down at you for a moment, the height of his chair offering him that leverage.

The room was quiet, the lights were dim, and the entire environment was soothing. “Well, honest, of course. No point in me asking if it’s a fib, no?”

You nodded, blowing a puff of air out of your nose thoughtfully. “Truthfully, I use sex. It allows me to physically and mentally drain myself, and I sleep really well after getting fucked. It allows me to refresh the next morning, and my stress, at least physically, is diminished.”

You didn’t look at him until you finished talking, and his face was blank. Once you two locked eyes, he sputtered out, “Oh, I—”

“This is why I offered two options, Chan,” you laughed, and at the lighten of atmosphere he giggled a bit too. “I didn’t mean to, y’know,” he stopped, and you nodded lightly. “I get it, but as of now I don’t do it much anymore. I usually just let out my anger or stress during dance routines or working out but it doesn’t work the same, and sometimes I deliver moves too harshly while dancing.”

“Why not?”

You were unsure what he was referring to, and you crinkled your eyebrows. “How come you don’t do it anymore if nothing else helps the same way?” he asked softly, his eyes swimming with genuine concern. 

“I’m a lot more conservative with my body, I just have to trust someone. It’s hard to get to know a guy without them immediately wanting to jump into a relationship. You can’t really do that in what we do, and the second I start to trust a guy things go haywire. I just really have to have a good friendship to have sex, I guess.”

The entirety of the conversation, Chan’s cheeks were turning peach. Even in the dark, dim light, you could see it. “I understand, it’s a very tangible thing. Just giving yourself to someone like that without a basic relationship, platonic or not, is important depending on how you view relationships,”

You nodded in response, and a silence fell over you two. There wasn’t much to be said, but for some reason you decided to blurt out. “If you don’t know how to deplete stress, I suggest it. Just the no strings attached part, because otherwise things get messy and stress becomes inevitable. Just try it sometime, Chan. If you don’t like it, then consider it a learning experience,” you shrugged, and Chan pursed his lips.

“I mean it doesn’t sound like a bad idea, per se. I just don’t know how I’ll casually ask someone to have sex. Most women just run off the moment I mention it, and who knows if they’re even into the same things I am? There’s just so many things to be unsure of.” His chin was now laying on his thumb, and his pointer finger was laying above his top lip. He was deep in thought. 

You stood up, which cause Chan to unexpectedly flinch, and he watched you with careful eyes. “Chris, if you ever feel like you need a de-stresser, you know where to find me. Nothing will be weird unless you make it weird. Or we can always just talk, either way, I’m here. I have to go before Sumna comes and drags me out of here, but seriously. Whatever you need, no strings attached. Nothing leaves this room,” you mentioned softly, and his eyes widened at his English name. It’s rather rare you used it, so he pondered the specific use of it in this scenario.

“Thank you,” he muttered simply, and he watched you as you walked out. Was she being serious?

Chan and you had not talked in a few days. Whether it was a crazy schedule, you embarassing yourself, or him not knowing how to approach the situation, you didn’t know. All you did know was that you missed your friend. 

You and your bandmates had a hectic schedule today, and as the leader, you’d had to sit in on a meeting with your manager and JYP’s public relations manager. Apparently, Dispatch had caught one of your members, Lanzi, out doing something with another k-pop idol. Dispatch had only obtained two pictures of it, but it was clearly legible on who they were, and what they were doing.

The cost to get those pictures thrown out was much more than JYP would have liked, so she had to sit and get chewed out. Instead of being angry at Lanzi, she became more angry at herself. She had talked to them about things of this sort, but clearly not well enough. It was her job as leader, and she failed doing so. 

After a three hour long meeting, you were absolutely exhausted, mentally at least. And now, just after that, was choreography practice. You’d just learned the choreo a few days before, so for the most part you had it down. As lead dancer, you also had to make sure everyone else in your group understood that too. 

So, thirty minutes into practice, when none of your members seemed to be latching on, you sighed. Your entire job was to simply lead, and do well. Somehow, you couldn’t manage to do that. Once more, you started the choreography, and told your girls to simply stand back and watch.

You had a slight tone, but you needed them to understand that rhythm is just as important as the real dance moves. Your entire body was covered in sweat, and you were growing more frustrated by the minute. 

The way your body moved was no longer elegant, just harsh, angry strokes of somewhat rhythmic actions. You did your best to do it just as you were shown, but the overwhelming anger and emotion in your body was just more than you could handle. 

Little did you know, next to your bandmates, stood Hyunjin and Chan. They had come to ask something, but instead found you dancing your angered heart out. All stopped and stared, and Chan could only focus on the way your hips contorted, the patterns your hips followed.

As the music stopped, you turned around, and your eyes widened at the visitors. 

“We can leave if you’re busy, Hyunjin-ah just wanted to ask if he could borrow the studio tomorrow, and I wanted a word with you, if that’s okay,” Chan asked, and all of your bandmates went silent, expecting you to take the lead of the conversation.

“Hyunjin-sunbaenim, the studio is yours whenever you need it. Let me know what time, and Chan-oppa, would you like to talk now?”

Hyunjin bowed, and gave a quick thank you before heading out of the room. “Yes, please. If you’re too busy, no worries,” and you looked at your girls and told them to head back to the dorm. You were done for today, no reason to beat a dead horse when clearly today was not a good one to get skills in. 

“Can we talk in my studio?” Chan came closer to you, almost a whisper, and you knew this was going to go one of two ways: he was going to fuck your brains out, or he was going to let you know that he did not think of you in that way, and to please never discuss things like that with him again. You don’t think you could handle either, at least not today. 

“Yeah, let me grab some other clothes,” you said softly, rubbing your forehead in anxiety. Chan quickly started to mention something, and you shut him up quick. “I don’t—”

“Chan, I’m getting new clothes because I am sweaty and tired, nothing else. I will meet you in your studio after I am changed,” you sighed, your hot knees feeling good against the cool floor of the choreography studio. Your duffle bag now wide open, you grabbed an oversized long sleeve shirt and a pair of loose jeans. 

You also reapplied deodorant and some perfume so you didn’t smell like you lived in a sewer, the amount

As your girls were long gone, you felt free to change in the studio. Your clothes quickly fell to the floor, and you were now in more comfortable apparel that is not drenched in sweat. Dreading this conversation with Chan, you swiftly collected your things and moved them to the corner to come collect after you spoke to Chan and was ready to go home. 

Guiding your way to Chan’s studio was a walk in the park. The amount of times you’d go in there to talk to him, or for him to let you hear what he’d been working on, was countless. You two had budded a beautiful friendship, and he had been somewhat of a rock. He had always been so sweet, so loving. And you’ve possibly ruined it because you couldn’t think of anything other than sex when trying to guide him through dealing with stress.

Your eyes almost welled at the thought. You couldn’t cry though, not now. So, as you stood outside of Chan’s recording studio, you held your breath for a moment and looked up, letting the tears vanish.

A soft knock sounded, your knuckles rasping at the door. The hallways were silent, and you couldn’t hear a single thing from inside Chan’s studio. Your own heartbeat pounded in your ears, and you tensed as you heard footsteps leading up to his door.

He opened the door, his face showing no clear emotions. He didn’t seem angry, but he wasn’t too happy to see you, either. His hair was clearly ran through by his hand, blonde tufts falling back towards his ears. His makeup was done to perfection, light brown tones covering his lids. 

He wore a simple outfit, a loose black hoodie and dark blue sweatpants. He’d changed from earlier, his black ripped jeans now nowhere to be seen. “Come in, you can sit anywhere,” his voice was always soft, even though he could be fuming, his tone would never soar. 

“Chan, I just want to say I’m sorry,” you muffled out, plopping down unconventionally on his couch. “I just, I don’t know why I said those things or did that,” at this point, you just didn’t want him to think differently of you. He was the closest thing you had to a mentor, and he was an amazing friend. 

If you lost him, or ruined your relationship, you don’t think you could ever forgive yourself. 

You pulled your knees up to your chest as he took a seat in his chair, staring expectedly at you. Silence followed, so you continued, unsure of what he was expecting to hear. “I just don’t like you being stressed, and the only way I know how to cope with things is kind of like that, so I figured maybe you could too, and then I offered, and I feel like I just fucked things up between us. I.. just I’m so sorry.”

At this point your eyes had clouded up, and your voice had cracked multiple times. The day you’d had just piled up, and your exhaustion was visible. Chan’s eyes immediately softened, and he felt bad. He wasn’t mad, he just didn’t know how to approach the situation. 

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, and he stood up from his chair and joined you on the couch. At this point, you’d started full on crying. “I ruined our friendship, and now I’m sitting here crying so you’re gonna feel too bad to be honest with me about what I did wrong,” you were now sniffling hard, and your chest was dense you were surprised you could breathe. 

“No, love, that’s not it, I promise,” your heart pumped blood a bit harder at his nickname for you, and he placed a warm hand on your back. “I came here to ask if you were okay,” his tone was now nothing but soft and supportive, and he continuously rubbed your back. Warmth spread throughout your entire body. 

“I heard about the meeting, and everyone kept discussing how stressed out you were today,” in the dim light once more, his eyes glowed. They were so soft, so sweet. His entire aura was just warm, loving, and nothing was more assuring. 

“No matter what happens between us, you’re my friend, and I care about you,” he smiled softly, “Nothing would change that, unless you like, stabbed me or something,” he laughed soulfully, and you laughed with him. He pulled you closer to him, your head now leaning on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Chan. I just didn’t know what to do, and today has been really shitty,” you smiled, and let your head fall even closer to his chest. His thumbs ran circles around your back, and he held you close. “It’s okay, I understand. Trust me,” a warm silence encased the entire room, and as Chan now cuddled you warmly, your face was now red at the reality of the situation.

“Do you feel a bit better?”

“Yeah, I just needed someone to remind me of how things are and to keep me grounded,” you sighed, and Chan’s thumb was now no longer rubbing your back. His hand had stilled, and all you could hear was the heartbeat from inside Chan’s chest. He was so broad, and the expanse of his torso provided a very comfortable pillow.

“I wasn’t offended, or taken back or anything when you offered, you know that, right?” Chan spoke out of nowhere, the rumbling of his chest vibrating intensely. “I wouldn’t have known, I tried my best to ignore you in case you never wanted to speak to me again,”

A small laugh came out of Chan, and his chest pushed your head a bit. “No, in fact, I think I’ve thought about it a little too much.”

You pushed your head off of him at this point, and resuming your position before he sat on the couch. You pulled your knees back up to your chest, and looked at him. “Really?”

“You said you wanted to have sex with someone you trust, and I feel the same way. It’s really hard to come by good people with good intentions, and you also happen to be beyond gorgeous. Why would I not want to?”

With cheeks now flushed red, you giggled. School-girl giggled, specifically. You had no idea how to take this compliment, but then the realization hit you. Christopher Bang just said he wants to fuck you.

His face also turned a deep scarlet, and he looked down, waiting for a reaction. “Mr. Bang, the things you say. So scandalous,” you both laughed lightly, and you hummed in response to the silence. “If we decide to ever do something, it’s important we talk about it first,” you mentioned, and now the conversation went from light-hearted to a bit more serious.

 “Of course, but in what way?”

“I don’t know, what kinds of things do you like? I can’t promise I can pertain to everything, but there’s no harm in trying. Especially if it happens more than once,” you clutched your legs, and Chan leaned forward a bit, his elbows on his knees as he stared ahead.

“Uh, well,” he laughed, and covered his hands with his face. This was the Chan you liked, who could make any situation, no matter how dark, seem light and easy-going. “It’s not really,” he started, beginning to look at you, then stopping himself, “I don’t know. I never usually talk about it like this,”

“Well, how about this: I tell you what I like, and you tell me what you’re willing to do. Just because I like it does not mean you have to do it, but if you enjoy it too, its mutual pleasure, yeah?”

Chan simply nodded, now mesmerized by you. His face completely tracked yours, and you sighed. “I have always loved your hands. I really, really like if you’d put them around my neck, if you would ever feel so kind. I really love being praised, I love being called a good girl, things like that. My favorite foreplay is just making out, I’m just a big softie, but I can take rough if that’s what you like. I’m a big pleaser, and I want to make sure you’re taken care of and get some pleasure out of this,”

Chan nodded once more, and his fingers instinctively wrapped themselves around his rings, twisting and turning. “Your turn, Channie,” you smirked, and he leaned back, a smile crowning his face. 

“Well, I really like being soft and intimate, I like any position, bonus points if I see your face,” he smiled, his cheeks burning scarlet. He clearly did not talk about these things often, moreso just played them out in the midst of a high and never spoke of it again. But he and you both knew how important communication was, so he continued.

“I have played around with being called Daddy, but I’m not sure, and if you’re not comfortable with it—”

“If I am that uncomfortable with something, I promise I’ll tell you. Besides, that’s really cute. Rolls right off the tongue, right Daddy?”

He visibily shivered, and you smiled. “I—uh, I like if you’d run your fingers through my hair, not too hard, but like soothingly, kind of? If that makes sense. I also like it if you’d verbalise when you’re, uh—”

You knew where he was going, so you leaned close to his ear and finished his sentence for him. “Gonna cum? Oh, it would be rude not to,” you laughed gently, and you saw the last of Chan’s patience snap like a rubber band. 

His hands grabbed your face sternly, yet somehow gently. “Do you want this?” he asked, the lust obvious on his face. Despite any previous conversation, he needed verbal consent to continue, and it would make him feel most okay with doing this. 

“Yes,”

The room was now silent, anticipation filling your entire body. You’d come in here crying, and you couldn’t help but hope you’d leave the same way; just a different type of crying. 

He pushed you so your back was now flush against the couch, the headrest leaning your upper torso closer to him. “Tell me to stop, and I promise I will, alright? The second you tell me to,” he was now looking you dead in the eyes, above you. Your legs were spread open, and his entire body was in the valley of your abdomen. Both of his arms were on either side of you, perching himself up. 

“Chris, just kiss me already,” you whined, and he laughed wholeheartedly, before dipping in. The first kiss was hesitant, exploring new territory. His lips tasted like vanilla chapstick, and the first few were light pecks. It took only a second before he took the initiative and added his tongue to the mixture. 

You rarely ever used tongue, most of your hookups barely even kissed, which is why none of them compared. Kissing was your weak point, it was a vulnerability. And Chan did not abuse that power once.

“Is this okay?” he mumbled against your mouth, your exchanging saliva now making more than your mouth lubricated. “Fuck, yes,” you moaned out, the amount of times he would kiss you now making you weak.

His hands dragged softly, and held themselves at your jaw, a classic sweetheart. His thumb was against your cheek so softly, the pads gracefully rubbing across the expanse of your cheekbone.

Everything about this was so domestic, so warm. His kisses were so soft, and full of love. There was no rush, no push to go any farther had you or him decided not to. His warm hands on your face made you purr on the inside, and when he pulled away, he had looked more beautiful than ever. 

You had no intention of mentioning the wetness that had gathered between your legs, until Chan was staring at you, and momentarily his eyes widened. “Shit,” he cursed, looking around rapidly. “We don’t have a condom. I’m clean and everything, but we don’t have to continue if you don’t feel comfortable,”

“I have an implant, and I’m clean too. I just want you, if you want me too.”

Chan had no other qualms about it, and he attacked your face in sloppy kisses. “Here, can we switch positions, my arm is hurting?” he asked awkwardly, and you laughed with your entire chest. It was a normal question, but the way he asked so ashamedly, as if it was something terrible. 

“Sit up straight, let me get on your lap,” you said softly, and he did as he was told. It was only then that you saw the bulge in his sweatpants, and you forgot that he actually had a male appendage, and from the looks of it, he was either girthy or long. Or both. 

As long as he knew how to use it, you’d be fine. 

He grabbed you by your hand to help maneuver you, and now your entire weight was on top of Chan. As you finally sat your hips down, he groaned. “Oh god,”

You took his face in your hands, and started kissing him again. At this point, you didn’t want him to be respectful anymore. His hands did not waver from your face, and so you took it into your own hands. Grabbing them both, so soft and calloused, and placed them as discreetly as you could, onto your hips. Moreso your ass, but Chan didn’t know your intentions. 

His hands pushed your hips forward, now rutting against his hard on. His lips and yours were now in a frenzy, drenching each other. It was still pretty slow, nothing fast paced, just more intense.

He broke the kiss, and his hands now edged at the bottom of your shirt. “Can I take this off?” he asked, breathless. His lips were now swollen and puffy, and his pupils were blown wide. 

You nodded softly, no words needed to be said. He quickly hauled the oversize shirt above your head, and groaned harshly when he realized you had no bra on. His first instinct was to latch his mouth onto your nipples, sucking softly. A moan left your mouth, and with nothing to hold onto anymore, your hands found his hair. 

Still rocking back and forth, your panties were probably soaked at that point. So much foreplay had you almost throbbing, and you couldn’t wait much longer to have him inside you. 

“Chan, please,” you moaned out, and he bit down on your nipple gently. “Only since you asked so nicely,” he added, and he told you to stand up. You did so, easily willingly, yet you loved the way he spoke to you.

It was almost a request, a plea. There was no power imbalance here, simply one trying to find another. He was so gentle, in everything he did. You wanted to drown in that feeling. 

He pulled your jeans off without a hitch, and eyed your lace panties hungrily, slightly thankful you’d changed earlier this evening. His fingers grasped the sides, pulling them down your legs. You were now completely bare, and he was fully dressed. This was a problem. 

“Not fair, your turn,” you pouted, and his eyes were fixated on your naked body. It felt odd, having him see you like this, but you couldn’t complain. Your arousal was now tainting your inner thighs, and Chan could probably see it too. 

He rid himself of his hoodie and his shirt at the same time, and you finally got a full view of him shirtless. This man was absolutely ripped, and you had to hold in a gasp. His arms were lined in protruding veins, and his abs were impeccable. You worked out, but not in your wildest dreams would you ever be able to maintain that nice of a physique. 

It wasn’t until he pulled off his pants, and painstakingly after, he patiently pulled his boxers off. God, did he have a pretty cock. A bit longer than average, slightly girthy, and it made your mouth water just thinking about it. 

Your first instinct was to pop down onto your knees, but as you were on your way down, Chan grabbed you by the arm. “Not this time, please, I need you,” he whined out, almost painfully. 

As you were on top of his lap, you were careful not to let him inside you yet. You figured he could decide when to do it, and you squealed when he let one hand slide from your face, down to your throat. His fingers, covered in rings, squeezed gently. He coaxed another moan from you as he let his fingers glide down the valley of your body, and found itself on your clit.

His movements were slow, but intense. His fingers glided over your folds, picking up some of your arousal, and placed all of his attention onto your little nub. Small pinprick moans escaped your mouth, and you began to tilt your hips in an attempt to get more friction. “Fuck, you’re so wet,”

Some noise semblant to a mew tried to leave your mouth, but his fingers tangled themselves around your neck further, leaving the sound trapped in your throat. “Are you ready? Or do we need to get you a bit more warmed up?” he asked softly, his mouth now next to you ear. His voice was dark, and husky.

“God, I just need you inside me,” you whined, and his hand let up on your neck, and he grabbed his cock harshly. He pumped it a few times, and spread your lips, and lined you up.

“Beg,” he said simply, and even if you tried to sink down, he now placed a hand on top of your hips harshly. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to. “W—what?” you asked, breathless. 

“Beg, I want to hear you beg for me to fuck you,” he repeated himself, and looked down at you mischeviously. You two were face to face, and his cock was still in his hands, and your lips spread wide open for him to see. “Fuck, please,” you whined, and to no avail, he didn’t budge, “please, daddy, I just wanna feel good,”

As soon as the name sounded from your mouth, he pushed inside of you. The stretch was amazing, it was slightly painful, but it felt like nothing on this earth could amount. His entire cock filled you out nicely, and the lewd sound of him smacking against you was filling the room.

His hands laid at your hips now, piling into you like his life depended on it. His balls were smacking against your ass, and the harsh thrusts stimulated your clit. Everything was so intense, the way he filled you so deeply, you could feel him in places you didn’t know he could reach, and you felt like you’d burst apart the seams. 

Shameless moans spilled from your mouth, and Chan was in your ear, grunting like a man starved. “Such a good girl, fuck, for me,” his groans were so animalistic, and the way his hands would hold you steady.

His fingers traveled down to toy with your clit, and he never stopped fucking you. Your fingers started to tangle within his hair, and his lips attached themselves to your neck, sucking, finding anything to latch onto. 

The second his fingers started rubbing your clit numbly, you knew that you were going to cum soon. Everything he did just felt so good, you were just a hole the second he started fucking you.

“I—I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum,” you breathed out heavily, and your legs started shaking. “Please, can I—please cum?”

“Yes, cum for me,” he breathed out in a husky tone, and it wasn’t long until you felt your thighs start to involuntarily shake, and the feeling inside your abdomen welling up. “I’m so—” you were cut off by your orgasm rushing over you, Chan’s fingers never stopped stimulating your clit.

You moaned out harshly, slumping towards him, unable to control yourself as one of the most harsh orgasms you’ve ever had washed over you. Your entire body started to seize, and you clenched around him harshly. He continued to fuck into you, sucking into your neck, and he starting fucking into you faster. He was definitely close, “Where-”

You cut him off, still under the shock of your orgasm, “inside me, please,” you begged, and he fucked into you once more, even harder. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,”

He lived up to his promise, as less than a few seconds later, his warm cum spurted inside of you, and he still rutted his hips, begging for more friction. He stroked into you a few more times, now drained of energy. He placed a soft kiss onto your neck, and whispered, “Thank you.”

You got up, and put your shirt back on over yourself, and Chan pulled his boxers and sweatpants on once more. A thought rose over you on whether to leave or not, but you knew Chan would be a skinship type of guy. He would probably have a drop, and not be used to just casual hookups like this.

“Do you want me to stay?” you asked softly, and a large part of you hoped he would say yes.

“Please.”

#bang chan #chris bang #christopher bang #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz #stray kids #cb97 #3racha #smut #angst #fluff #skz angst #skz fluff #skz fic #bang chan smut #chris bang smut #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst

[storiesforallfandoms]

childhood secrets ~ hannibal lecter;hannibal

word count: 1711

request?: yes!

shady80smusicsingercolor “Hey! Can i request something

Hannibal l x reader

The reader kept her childhood a secret from everyone,until she was watching news about a teen getting bullied,she remembers her childhood and just cries.Hannibal notices and goes run up to her,ask what's wrong.She explain what happen,that her childhood friends used make fun of her,or calling her weirdo.Hannibal comforts her

Hope is okay❤”

description: after hearing the story of a teenager’s tragic passing, unwanted memories are brought back to her

pairing: hannibal lecter x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of suicide and suicidal thoughts, mentions of bullying

masterlist

“Did you hear about the Thompson girl?” Zeller asked as we examined some DNA for a case.

“Who’s the Thompson girl, first and foremost?” I asked.

“She was friends with Abigail Hobbs when she was sent to that psychiatric facility,” Price explained. “They were room neighbors I think.”

“Oh! That Hannah girl! What happened to her?”

“Her parents found her dead in her room. Suicide.”

I was so shocked at the response that I dropped the tool in my hand. Both of them looked at me for a moment as I just looked down at my hands. I was trying to calm the growing PTSD rising in me.

“The poor thing,” I finally managed to say.

“Yeah,” Price said. “I think she was in the facility because of mental illness. Her parents put her in there after her first attempt.”

Zeller shook his head. “Poor thing. They shouldn’t have let her check out so soon. (Y/N), are you okay?”

I was still staring down at my hands. They were shaking and it was getting hard to breathe. I could barley register the fact that Zeller had asked me something. They were both looking at me, expectantly.

“What? Yes, I’m fine,” I responded. “I gotta get some fresh air.”

I threw my coat and gloves on a nearby table and quickly raced for the exit. I had to wait for the elevator to take me to the ground floor, but the wait was antagonizing. My chest and throat felt tight, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

When the elevator door opened, I was faced with Jack Crawford, Will Graham, and Hannibal Lecter.

“(Y/N),” Crawford said. “Are you okay?”

I couldn’t respond this time. I had to get out, I had to be away from there.

The breathe of fresh air in my lungs was just what I needed, but I was still feeling panicked. Flashbacks were running through my head, things I had repressed for all those years coming back all at once, hitting me like a freight train. I sat down on the sidewalk, trying to calm my breathing enough to go back inside.

“Miss. (Y/L/N)?”

I looked up to see Hannibal stood behind me.

“I’m fine, Dr. Lecter,” I told him. “You don’t have to check on me.”

“You’re very obviously not okay. You’re breathing is abnormal and you look as though you’ve been crying.”

I felt my cheek and was shocked to find that Hannibal was right, I had been crying. I hadn’t even realized it before.

“I’m fine,” I repeated, but the crack in my voice gave me away.

Hannibal sat next to me. I tried not to let him see my face, but I knew there was no turning back now. He had seen me in the elevator, he saw how unhappy I was at that moment. Any other person would just think I was overwhelmed from work, or maybe one of our discoveries had upset me, but Hannibal was a talented psychiatrist. He probably already knew what was wrong with me.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

I chuckled. “How often does that one work?”

“Enough times to keep me employed.”

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “Zeller and Price were telling me about a girl that used to be friends with Abigail, Hannah Thompson. She...she...”

“I know,” Hannibal finished for me, luckily. Just thinking about having to finish that sentence made my throat tight again. “I wasn’t aware you knew her so well.”

“I didn’t, but I know...the feeling. Like you’re trapped in your own mind and there’s only one way out of it.”

Hannibal was looking at me, waiting for me to continue but not pushing me to go any further than I felt comfortable with. I wouldn’t have to go any further with my explanation if I didn’t want to, I knew he wouldn’t force me. We could’ve dropped it right then and there.

But my mouth moved before my mind could comprehend what I was sating, “I was the weird girl in school. While other girls wanted to be princesses or astronauts, I wanted to be a forensic scientist. I always had a fascination with crime and forensics and such. At first, I was just an outcast with no friends, until a group of girls took me in and added me to their group in high school. They weren’t super popular girls, but they also weren’t my level of outcast or anything, so, understandably, I was excited.”

“I’d assume it wasn’t as ideal of a situation as you were led to believe.”

I shook my head, tears forming in my eyes again. “They only befriended me so I could be their verbal punching bag. It started mild at first, just some friendly jokes that I could throw back at them. Then they started calling me the weird girl, the freak who liked death and murder. They’d make fun of me for reading stuff about unsolved murders, or even just murder mystery novels. They told me I’d probably grow up to be one of the unfound murderers in those stories. They put me down at every chance they got, but they were the only friends I had so I just...I dealt with it. I even gave up the opportunity to shadow at a police department during my senior year because I was afraid of them making fun of me more.”

“What was the tipping point?” Hannibal asked. “Obviously they are no longer around. I assume either you got rid of them or...they left themselves.”

“A bit of both really,” I responded. “One day, their bullying just got too much for me. My parents never liked the group, so I felt like I couldn’t go to them because they’d just tell me ‘I told you so’ - not because that’s how my parents are but because that was my irrational fear - and the teachers and guidance councilors and principals at school were garbage. They did nothing unless they actually witnessed the bullying first hand, and even then it was always a slap on the wrist punishment. So, I thought...I thought I only had one way out.”

I was still half conscious when my parents found me. My mother’s screams were permanently etched in my head, her sobs breaking through the otherwise muffled sounds I was hearing. Even when I blacked out, all I could hear in my head was my mother.

“They sent me to the same hospital Abigail was in,” I continued, skipping over the nasty parts that I couldn’t bare to relive. “My parents said I needed actual, medical help, that they couldn’t ignore my mental health issues anymore. I was there for months. I met people just like me, people who understood what I was going through. I made friends with a lot of them, and they’re all still in my life right now. My high school friend group came to visit me at one point. They seemed genuine enough with their apologies, saying they didn’t realize how much I took their words to heart and how they didn’t know how dark of a place I was in mentally. I don’t know how true any of that was, but they put on a good act. When they finished their groveling, I told them to go fuck themselves and to never contact me again. They were...offended, to say the least. Apparently they spread rumors about me at school, but I finished my senior year at a different school so it didn’t really matter to me. Went off to do forensic science in college and...here I am.”

For a moment, a look of pride passed over Hannibal’s face, as if the end of my story made him feel proud for me. I guess it made me feel proud, too, but sometimes I kicked myself for sticking around with that toxic friend group for far too long.

“I’ve never told anyone that,” I admitted. “Not anyone who didn’t know me at the time, anyways. I tried to keep it repressed, but hearing about Hannah Thompson...it brought all those memories back for me. Maybe I’m not over it like I think I am.”

“Mental trauma when your brain is still developing is not something one can easily get over,” Hannibal said. “It takes years, and even then those painful memories could follow you to your grave.”

I winced at the thought of having to battle with those memories until the day I died. Part of me was still worried that they would be the reason I would eventually die.

“But it is important to know that your old friend group was wrong,” he continued. “There is nothing wrong with being interested in something that the masses aren’t interested in. I’d argue that being interested in murder and police work is much better than wanting to grow up and be a princess or an astronaut. Your job helps the police to find serial killers and to save innocent people from being their victims. There’s nothing weird about that, not in my eyes.”

I smiled. “Thank you, Dr. Lecter. I think I just needed to hear that when I was younger and...no one really said it to me before.”

“I’m saying it now,” he said. “If you ever feel overcome with those memories again, please do not hesitate to call me. A beautiful and brilliant mind such as yourself should not be worrying over what irrelevant people have to say about you.”

I felt myself blush, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the reassurance Hannibal was giving me, or if it was from the compliment.

“I want to sit out here for a little while longer,” I told him. “I still need some air, and to come down from what happened back there. You don’t have to wait for me.”

“I don’t have to, but I will,” he decided. “I want to make sure you’re okay before I join my collegues again.”

I smiled at him again. I definitely wasn’t about to fight him on staying there with me. Quite the opposite, actually. If there was anyone I wanted with me in that moment, it was Hannibal.

#hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal #hannibal imagine #mads mikkelsen #mads mikkelsen imagine #mads mikkelsen x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[shinyeeveelynn]

Hello, everyone! It's that time again to welcome in another new year.

Boy, has it been.. a lot, lmao. I know for so many of us, it's been a very volatile year. It certainly was for me.

Y'know, I'm not gonna lie. I've been going through and am still going through a lot in my personal life. Big changes, mourning the deaths of loved ones I've lost to the pandemic, struggling with work, my chronic illnesses, my mental illness- I mean I could go on but what's the fun in that, yeah?

Somewhere along the line, I came back to tumblr looking for a place here in this community. Running @loveforficts so long ago was fun, and I wanted to recapture that- but at the same time, I wanted to finally be personal instead of just hiding behind an “admin” shadow amongst you all. I wanted- no, I needed to come in and y’know, be a part of it rather than just cheer everyone else on. I was just so scared of rejection, for several reasons, that I never tried before now, and coming in, I didn’t expect anyone to actually care or want to be my friend or take an interest in me at all. 

But so many of you did. You welcomed me in with open arms and have been nothing but kind to me and I can never thank you enough. Some of you have truly changed my life and given me something I never thought I would ever have. There was a point in my life where I thought I was broken for loving these fictional characters, I never thought I would one day be sitting around voice call or text chats goofing off gossiping about my boys the way anyone else would with any other relationship and laughing and having a good time hearing everyone else do the same. I never thought anyone would understand what I now know to be my maladaptive daydreaming, I never thought anyone would say “I want to meet your f/o, we should watch ____ together!” to me ever. I was just saying last night that it’s still weird to me to hear that and know it’s genuine and not being said to me out of courtesy. I was so used to being that person for other people, (and I enjoy it, by the way!) but I’ve just been so conditioned to feel like my feelings are not relevant over the years in most aspects of my life, that I can’t wrap my brain around how wonderful you’ve been to me. I’ve shared with you all possibly the most hidden part of myself, and I was met with nothing but kindness.

Because of you, despite the whirlwind I’m caught in, I can say I am dealing a lot better than I thought I ever could. Shit is tough, and I’m scared as hell of what’s to come- I don’t typically do well with New Year lol I usually hate it, because often it’s just a reminder of the shit I’ve been through and how I often feel I haven’t really overcome it, but I can say that with the support system and friendships I’ve built in this community over the last few months, you’ve all made me stronger. I hope this is only the first of many holidays we get to spend together. Now for personal thank yous, first and foremost @enter-the-phantom because at the end of the day if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t know the community the way I do now. I’ve enjoyed so much getting to know you after so long of just being a silent follower and I hope to continue growing and cultivating our friendship. You’re a literal lifesaver.

And oh my dear @wisemins I bully you so much but it’s all straight from the heart, lmao. You just like Abby have come to mean so much to me so quick, I could honestly cry just thinking about it. I can really only describe our meeting as fated, it’s far too perfect to not have been. I’ve never trusted anyone anywhere near my canon until you came along and now we’re quite literally family, it’s insane.

And of couuuurse @cant-decide-on-a-user THE PUREST AND NICEST OF BEAANS. I appreciate you so much, and I’ve had so much fun with you and I can’t wait to spend more time sharing laughs and yelling at you for calling my husbands SHARKS. HECKA RUDE BTW.

@softnice, @ramblyships, @scientistservant, @papermoonie, my loves, I am running out of words because I am sadly not very good at this, lmao but this entire post is dedicated to you all as well.

If I’ve missed anyone, I’m so sorry! I’m on 2 hours of sleep, but know that this goes out to you as well. In all sincerity, I love you and I wish you a very Happy New Year!

#f/o community #self ship community #self shipping community #fictosexual #fictoromantic