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matcha-dango · 1 year

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A Maid's Predicament

Yan!Diluc x Maid!F!Reader [NSFW]

CW : yandere themes / smut / kinda noncon / power imbalance / sadistic and dom character x sub reader / size kink

Word Count : 1419

Dawn Winery had a handful of staff : some were dedicated to the winery itself, others were committed to the mansion. All servants were devoted to their job and to serving the head of the estate, Diluc.

By all means, Diluc treated everyone equally and well, regardless of status or seniority, but perhaps he paid more attention to you rather than anyone else. You didn’t really notice much at first, assuming he was concerned as you were the newest helper. However, you gradually have come to realise that it could be something else.

It started with better meals, with bigger portions and with an increase in received mora. Then, your tasks slowly became less and less diverse, but also less and less exhausting. You couldn’t ignore the lack of pain and abundance of remaining energy after each passing day.

Another thing you also couldn’t ignore though was the fact that you wound up being the only one to take care of Diluc’s own bedroom and when you were organising and dusting off the library, you would work only after the previous batch of maids were done with their shift. That doesn’t mean you were alone though. Isolated, maybe. But certainly not alone, since Diluc’s crimson eyes wouldn’t leave your form whenever you weren’t looking his way.

When you couldn’t keep denying being subjected to special treatment any longer, you also noticed that your uniform got modified in a rather peculiar manner. Once worn, anyone could easily notice every curve of yours, moving in it would also happen to be quite challenging if you wanted to avoid flashing your panties or showing too much cleavage.

Diluc saw your little antics as truly endearing. He just couldn't help but find cute how you relentlessly tried to keep your now much shorter skirt in place so he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of your panties, how you constantly kept readjusting your upper part of the dress to avoid your chest spilling out. All the while diligently working. How could he not be captivated by you ?

For a period, he was satisfied but it unfortunately didn’t last for long. He sporadically gave you specific requests, such as getting him that one book from that corner in the upper shelf or finding some tiny object he allegedly dropped between some heavy furniture and the wall. You would have to tip toe or get on your knees every time, making it difficult for you to both execute the task at hand and hide yourself.

Needless to mention that whenever you worked close to him, he would glance at your body but also sometimes you felt his hand brush past you. You could barely feel the touch, but the irradiating warmth was too intense to not be noticed. Wielding a Pyro vision may be useful, but this was definitely not one of those occasions.

One fine day, as per usual you were requested to fetch another book. Suddenly, you felt a presence behind you, entrapping you between the bookshelf and, presumably, Diluc.

His left hand would be resting on the edge of a shelf, near your hips, forming a barrier. You felt his right hand slowly glide up your body, from your hips to your waist. Diluc crept closer, so close he could feel your heartbeat on his large torso. His hot breath travelled from your left ear to your exposed nape. Your body nearly jolted when Diluc pressed a soft kiss where your shoulder meets your neck. Diluc’s grip on you got firmer, keeping you in place and he released the shelf from his left hand, which rested on your thigh before hiding under your uniform’s skirt, close to your heat.

Before things went too far, you faintly begged him to not go further in a whisper. Unfortunately, hearing you imploring him made his blood rush straight down to his pants, which almost instantly formed a tent – you definitely felt its pressure on your ass. You also understood that you had two options : either risk your job and safety by protesting and attempting to get away, either comply and accept his inappropriate advances. To your dismay however, Diluc’s next move didn’t give you enough time to “choose”.

His hand previously on your waist was now wrapped around your neck right under your jaw, tilting your head towards him in the process. His hand was large enough to be able to hold you still just like that and his grip could break your neck if he wished so. You were not in a good position. Actually, this was the perfect angle to get a glimpse of the sky through the window. Your eyes widened in realisation. Orange, yellow and red hues were splayed throughout the sky, it meant everyone went back home so you were now alone with the man who was leisurely grinding against you.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart. No one is there, but you and me.”

Maybe obeying would make it quicker, so you did as told. Diluc’s crimson eyes were filled with lust ; such a sight sent shivers down your spine as you felt like a small prey trapped by a much bigger predator. Your own eyes expressed both fear and confusion, you didn’t dare to move from your spot.

Diluc kept groping your thigh without actually touching you there. As you shifted your weight, you felt the moistness in your panties and grew ashamed of it. You tried to rationalise it, your master was quite young and handsome after all.

His hands suddenly freed you. You felt immense relief, thinking it was over. Diluc was a good guy after all.

Or not.

He didn’t release you out of kindness, he was too hard for that. Diluc needed to unzip his pants and let himself free from the painful restriction. His movements were so quick you didn’t have time to process everything that he pushed himself between your plush thighs and pressed them together, one big hand on each side.

Your thighs felt so warm and so soft, it was so much more amazing than his own calloused hand. Diluc thrusted faster and faster, his length brushing past your clit every time. You had to grip the edge of the shelf in front of you for support as pleasure was making your legs weak.

Diluc suddenly stopped, but you had the suspicion he wasn’t done yet. And you were right.

He pulled himself out and pushed your messy panties down to your knees in a rapid movement. Before you could raise any objections, he parted your ass cheeks and slid himself inside of you, starting from the tip to the base of his immense cock.

The unforeseen stretch was painful but that didn’t prevent Diluc from moving again, albeit slowly. His left hand returned to grasp your hips as if it belonged there ; his right hand went around your abdomen and slid down to rub circles on your clit, to make you wetter just for him.

As soon as he felt you relax a bit, Diluc picked up his pace immediately and lewd sounds started to fill up his office. You did your best to repress any moan but it became increasingly more difficult with each thrust and each rub.

“Let me hear you sing. Don’t be ashamed of your pretty voice, darling.”

Diluc spoke in such a way that you were convinced he knew you were reaching your own limit. It was quite likely to be true for him as well, as his movements got faster. Moans ended up spilling out of your mouth and you could hear Diluc groan every time you would clench particularly tightly around him – and you were definitely getting tighter, with tension building up inside you about to explode.

One particular thrust hit your most pleasurable spot and made you spasm around his cock. Your narrow grip on him made him spill himself all inside of you almost simultaneously, it was almost romantic.

You two were breathless and messy.

Diluc caught your form from falling and carried you over to the nearest couch to lie you down. He fixed his clothes, eyes glued to your core, out of which his own seed was about to spill. With a displeased look, he pulled your panties up to make sure none would go to waste.

Diluc still had some work to finish, but he was courteous enough to let you rest before he took you to his bedroom for the rest of the night.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin diluc #diluc #diluc smut #diluc x you #diluc x reader #genshin hcs #genshin smut #yandere #yandere genshin #yandere diluc #genshin x reader smut #md.writes

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animentality · 4 months

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Ahhhhh insane with the idea that the Dark Urge was forced to kill their parents, the people they loved most in the world, at a very young age, and this was only the first stage in what would be a constantly evolving notion of love and relationship with themselves.

First was grief. Regret. Feeling ashamed and monstrous and wicked. Crying at night because they had loved their parents and now they were gone, and it was their fault. Directly. That's a lot for a kid to handle.

But with Scleritas whispering in their ear, and the threat of Bhaal hanging over their head, the grief becomes fear. Terror, that it might happen again. They stay away from people they knew before, kids or adults who knew them in Baldur's Gate. Maybe they can't resist the urge but they can at least ensure they don't hurt anyone they love. Maybe they can control themselves. Maybe they can keep their wretched body still. Maybe they will not be the instrument of pure death and chaos and evil incarnate.

But then the only companionship they have is Scleritas Fel, and he's a wicked little creature, constantly bringing the worst out of them. And as time passes and they live their life in isolation, that terror starts to fade, as do memories of love and friendship and kindness. And the urge is impossible to totally ignore. So where before they felt intense guilt or fear, now there's no feeling at all. And since they're so distant from other living beings, people start looking like meat puppets to them. Empty dolls of blood and viscera and mucus. No longer the feeling of home, but carcasses in the making.

And you know, I don't think leading the Temple of Bhaal would help. I can see the Dark Urge completely forgetting about their old life, and the warm feelings of intimacy and affection. How long can you go through life feeling afraid or numb? Maybe the only joy they could find was in embracing their urge. In dedicating their life to Daddy, to the point where they had a crippling fear of disappointing him. If they couldn't be happy, then they could at least be perfect. They could at least have purpose. They were once afraid of how monstrous they could be. Now, they aren't.

But then.

they meet Gortash.

and it's like... well.

Durgetash is, at its core, love spun on its edge and ripped open with fangs.

It is two vicious creatures, being soft with one another, but not soft like the fur of a puppy or the heads of dandelions, but soft like carrion, like the lining of a coffin, like the whisper of the morgue.

But it is still love.

And how would the Dark Urge react? Well, unloved beast that they are, I would imagine it would sneak up on them. Neither they, nor Gortash, seem as though they have even an ounce of love or compassion in their bodies. So they can be at ease with one another, surely? Nothing about Gortash is soft or gentle the way they vaguely remember love being. So they think they're safe.

And that was a mistake. Because they haven't felt safe since they were a child. So he became their first step backwards. After years of constantly moving forward (because if they stop moving, they fear that they might die).

And it gets worse, because the more they admire him, the more they enjoy their time together, the stronger their alliance becomes... the more dangerous it feels.

Hence the prayer of forgiveness.

The Dark Urge would have to reassure father that they were still strong and obedient. They would tell him that it wasn't love, because they are not capable of it, not anymore. Gortash is just... an ally. Just an asset. A pawn, like everyone else. A meat sack.

But they're lying.

Gortash was the first crack in their armor. They had no one for so long. They needed him. Wanted him. Could only be with him at all because he had the same goals as them, and they could use them as an excuse, a shield, against the idea that they were in love or attached.

And then we get to the amnesia... the reset... the rebirth. And...

The Dark Urge starts again. They unlearned all of their pain, their agony, their sadomasochism. They find friends. And lovers. And they find comrades in arms. They find a hero within themselves, one that could not live alongside the evil built into their very blood.

And they embrace love, even though it means death.

Even if it means being obliterated, they welcome the end of all things, over returning to the loneliness of before.

And it's lovely. It's a fascinating idea to me, the dark urge and their relationship with love.

I am obsessed with the idea of a character who is not saved by love, but destroyed by it.

Someone who cannot embrace love and become stronger like all the other protagonists of the world. Someone who does the exact opposite. They want to love, but have learned it will only hurt those who could love a wretched creature like themselves. And it will only break them in the end.

But when given the chance to start all over... this time, they are not alone. This time, they have the strength to do what is necessary. The bonds that hold them together just as they pull them apart.

Friends, I'm sorry for the rambling.

But I love the potential of the Dark Urge as a character.

#dark urge #enver gortash #durgetash #baldurs gate 3 #bg3

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talesofesther · 1 year

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sweet calamity | ch 2

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Series Summary: It was something people described as the sweetest pain, the feeling of when the soul that's destined to find yours is closer to you. Wednesday saw it as a curse, promised herself she would hate whoever was chosen for her; but it's easier said than done.

A/N: Slowly, the story is shaping itself, hopefully y'all will like it. Also thank you so much for 7.5K followers, love ya. <3

Masterlist | Read ch 1 here

It was rare the times where you woke up before your alarm, given that you weren't exactly a morning person. But you could barely sleep last night, excitement and apprehension twirling inside your stomach; so it was no surprise when you woke up with the birds this morning.

Today was your first official day at Nevermore, the place where, supposedly, you belong. You were lucky to already know a few of the students here, Eugene for one, who had given you a basic tour of the school yesterday.

To say that Nevermore was big would be an understatement, the ancient, castle-like structure had your anxiety spiking as soon as you walked through the gates. It was a given that you'd take your sweet time getting lost here.

Just as you are right now.

You were leaning back on one of the stone walls on the quad, cell phone in hand as you read one of your mother's latest texts; have a good first day darling, remember to make friends and don't isolate yourself, love you.

With a soft sigh, you typed back the generic response you always gave your mom, a sweet thanks and I love you that usually did the trick so she wouldn't press the matter.

Stashing your phone on your backpack, your gaze roamed over the hallways and doorways, searching for any clues on where the hell botany class was supposed to be. Technically, you could just ask someone. Your fellow outcast colleagues came and went, passing by you nonstop. Yet part of you didn't want to be the lost newbie.

You pushed yourself away from the wall, turning around on the spot, forcing your peers to dodge you as you took a slow step backward to get some new perspective.

And that's when it happened again, so suddenly this time that it got you stumbling on your own feet.

It reminded you of when you accidentally touched that hot frying pan when you were seven. The burning, sharp and angry against your skin; right on the pulse point of your wrist. The same one you felt for the very first time just yesterday, and maybe that was the main reason for your restlessness today.

Your mother always talked with you about soulmates, about how she was lucky to have found hers and that maybe you would be too. But at the end of the day, she was also a realist. She had never once allowed you to dream too big, hope too much. Because she knew it wasn't a reality for everyone.

You grew up in a world of maybes. Maybe you will find yours, maybe you won't; both are okay. And that was your truth, you were content with any outcome.

Until yesterday.

It's strange how a few seconds can change a lifetime.

You had never cared much about having a bond with someone, but then you felt it. It was almost palpable if you focused enough, that fragile red string tied around your finger, sending shockwaves to your heart and changing its rhythm.

Overnight, the thought of breaking this bond became almost unfathomable.

Your backpack bumped into someone when you lost your footing, you quickly turned around with an apology on your lips, but the person spoke first;

"Whoever it was, do it again and I will break each of your fingers." She spoke lowly, with a bite to her tone that gave you goosebumps.

You could tell she straightened her tie before turning around to face you, and once she did so — ever so slowly — any words you had tangled on your tongue faded completely.

She was all raven black hair and smooth pale skin, her lips had a dark shade of burgundy to them, shaping the lines to perfection; if you squinted, you could see freckles over her nose; her eyes were just as dark as her hair, lashes kissing the corner of her cheeks as she blinked once, twice and then kept her gaze on you with a faint frown to her eyebrows.

Something about her got your heartbeat going haywire. It was addictive.

Only when the silence was bordering awkward that you found your voice again; "shit, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you." It didn't help your nerves that you could feel the eyes of the passing students on you, as if they were watching a live decapitation ceremony — plus the ever-present ache on your skin.

Talk about an eventful first day.

All the girl did was angle her chin up, her eyes skimming up and down your body. "Stop walking backwards and maybe it won't happen again."

You pursed your lips, nodding once. Touche. "That's great advice, actually." You attempted a smile, but when you got no response back, you continued; "uh anyway, I have to go to botany class so, I see you around?"

If you looked closely, you could tell she acknowledged your words with a nod of her own. Figuring that's all you were getting, you turned around and took a step the opposite way.

A beat or two passed, almost as if she was considering if you were worth her time of day or not.

"I'm heading to botany as well," the raven-haired girl's voice called after you.

You looked at her over your shoulder.

"And that is not the way." She told you pointedly, raising a perfectly styled eyebrow at you.

Good one, idiot. Was all you could think to yourself.

You stood in the middle of the hallway with six feet between you and the girl whose name you were already itching to know, unsure if she wanted you to tag along or not.

"I'm not gonna wait on you forever," she said then, impatiently, and you scrambled to fall into step beside her.

You followed by her side as she left the quad, passing through Nevermore's gardens — which were breathtaking this time of year, the huge trees with a mix of faded green and yellow on their leaves, some of them already forming a blanket on the grass beneath them, old stone paths for you to walk on and a cold breeze in the air, countered by warm sunlight; you could spend hours out here — until you saw the big greenhouse in the distance.

"Thank you for this," you spared a timid glance at the girl beside you, "really, I would probably still be walking in circles if it wasn't for you."

There was no response other than a blank look in your general direction; you wanted to hear her voice though. "I'm Y/N, by the way." The question about her own name went unsaid.

Did you always have the need to speak so much? Wednesday wondered.

By no means, she was one to care enough in helping newcomers find their way around. They could be bothersome, asking too many questions and delaying her routine.

Yet there was something about you that got her feeling uneasy when she considered parting ways. For a second, she wondered if it was your soul that was doomed with hers, but you had already bumped into her and the cursed burning was still there; with no pattern to it, ever unpredictable, resembling the push and pull of waves on the oceanside yet never going away entirely.

And Wednesday wanted to be annoyed, she should be annoyed, shouldn't she? Because the sooner she finds out who her other half is, the sooner she can put an end to it.

She wasn't. She wasn't bothered that it wasn't you. Because the thought of hating you was slightly unappealing.

Her jaw was tight, sunlight framing her profile and reflecting on her pupils as she said; "Wednesday."

Were you going to be another Enid? Talking her ears off every given minute only to warp your way inside her cold heart eventually?

Wednesday let out an indignant scoff at the mere thought of it.

Her response lit you up like a Christmas tree; "Enid's roommate?"

You reached the greenhouse and Wednesday stopped in front of the glass doors. She turned to face you, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"Uh, we're friends," you were quick to elaborate, eyes focused on the way Wednesday's fringe flowed with the wind, "well, our parents are friends so we became friends too, she talked a lot about you on vacation. I almost feel like I already know you."

To that, Wednesday sharpened her gaze daringly, sure that Enid's version of her had the potential to be twisted into something sweetly inaccurate.

And was it bad that your panicked face was somewhat adorable?

"Not trying to imply that I do," you hurriedly said, eyes a tad too wide, "I'm just saying that I've heard a lot about you."

You amused her; the same way a cat finds it amusing to play with its prey. There was a ghost of a smile on Wednesday's lips; "yes, we do share a room."

The greenhouse was already partly filled with students when you walked in together, its glass walls almost entirely covered by plants, allowing only little bits of sunlight to come through as the smell of several different flowers engulfed your senses.

There were a few seats empty, but when you settled on a table at the back, Wednesday felt compelled to follow suit, making herself comfortable on the chair beside yours.

You kept surprisingly quiet during most of the class, taking notes in your notebook and occasionally tapping your pen against the paper but other than that, quiet. Wednesday felt strangely at ease in your company.

Wednesday had her hands neatly resting on the table, half listening to the new teacher's boring explanation about a poisonous plant and half counting the new species added to the greenhouse since she last came here.

She had counted twelve by the time her attention was captured, by you, no less.

There was a potted orchid resting by your side, it was a small thing, its soil a little too dry and its petals a little too pale — apparently the new teacher wasn't as attentive with her plants.

Wednesday watched the way you raised a hand to the poor flower, fingertips grazing the tip of its petals, and from each place you touched, a burst of life erupted. Slowly, the flower regained its bright colors, the leaves standing tall again in a deep shade of green at the same time that a loving smile came to your lips.

"Interesting," this time, Wednesday was the one to break the silence.

Her voice made you flinch, as if you had been in your own world for a moment. You took a deep breath before saying; "she was looking a little sad."

With her eyes still on the colorful orchid, Wednesday asked; "you make things come to life?"

"Uh, plants mostly," you shrugged, like even you didn't know the full extent of your abilities, "but yeah."

You looked up at Wednesday, not expecting to find her eyes already on you; dark as the night, if you looked closely, you could find galaxies in them to get lost in. You couldn't remember ever becoming this quickly infatuated with someone before, so much so, that it got you wondering — hoping — what if it's her?

The hairs on your arm stood up, a shiver going up and down your back. Could it be her?

"Enid always loved it," you forced out, at the same time that you forced the what-ifs out of your head — because you could almost hear your mother saying; hope is dangerous, don't ever let it overcrowd your senses. "She used to tell me that I'm lucky, that I could just conjure up any bouquet I'd want when I find my soulmate," you grinned at the memory, "and I always told her it was not that simple, that I can't make things out of thin air."

"Enid can be naive," Wednesday stated, tone a tad too tight, "she often times sees the world through rainbow lenses."

You chuckled, "do I sense some disdain?"

There's a beat before Wednesday says anything; a beat where she just looks at you, wondering when you got so comfortable with her, and why she let you.

"Quite the contrary," she tells you then, "Enid is one of the few people I tolerate here."

You smiled faintly, eyes downcast and focusing on Wednesday's hands instead of her eyes, "not for Enid."

Wednesday blinked slowly as understanding downed on her, she straightened in her seat; "most people fail to realize that having your soul linked to another is nothing short of a burden." Her words rolled off her tongue easily, that was her truth.

You nodded, not agreeing but acknowledging her view, "why would it be a burden?"

"Because no one asked for it, it's an inconvenience that's forced upon you. And people expect you to just accept it, love it, even," Wednesday told you, her eyebrows scrunched together in anger, "why would I ever want something like that?"

Your lips parted as you felt her hatred as if it was choking you, her black nails tapping against the table at the same rhythm your heart pumped blood. "What happens if you meet yours?"

"For their sake, I hope it never happens."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 3 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @gayestfeels26 @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @witchyhs-blog @tobylikesfire @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @ladey @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #wednesdayedit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #wednesday x reader #my story

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rainybyday · 2 years

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Graves aren’t the only place people die and rest

People don’t die at their graves, nor do they all die from accidents. Logically Danny knew this, he knows this.

Maybe it’s because of Amity Park. Amity is just a small town, a place out of the way from the rest. It’s not completely isolated but it’s not really close to any other town or city as well.

Then again, his ancestors did burn witches so it might have added more into his surprise in later years once he realizes what ‘dead’ is.

It started off as one of mom and dad’s normal ghost hunting trips. It was a new location and this time both he and Jazz were being brought with them since it was the spring break. The location was an empty cabin, it was old but well cared for and clean. The couple that owns the cabins said that some unusual actives were happening which caught the interest of his parents. And as usual, they had to get rid of the ‘spook’.

Danny didn’t care as much as he should have, having grown up with his parents' wild urges to find anything remotely close to their research of ghost and getting rid of them. Ever since he became Phantom, he started to care a whole lot more since, after learning and understanding the spirits of the dead, were just people who can’t officially cross.

But that wasn’t the story. It was when night fell, did he realize an important fact about ghost.

It was a night flying, just a bit of air and quiet time after dealing with his parents rambling all day and avoiding their weapons. He needed a breather, and nothing brought he more peace than a nightly timed stroll.

Then that's when he felt it.

A ghost was nearby.

Huffing that his parents were right, he flew towards the direction of the ghost he detected.

Now Danny isn’t a stranger to childlike children ghost. Sidney and Youngblood were one of the few child-like ghost he met. Cujo was a dog and others like Ember and Kitty were practically teenagers when passed on.

(And he himself knew that his death should not have happen, should never happen. He was a child when he lived, and he was a child as he died. But he likes to think the moment he became Phantom was the moment he had to grow up.)

In other words, he wasn’t a stranger to young looking ghost.

He was a stranger, however, to the tense aura of fear-help-sorry-fear-fear-hurt-pain-scared-scared-mom-help washing over him as he looked upon a girl was no older than he was, crying over a crack in the ground.

It was the first time he saw the effects of a newly killed ghost.

Things became a blur after that, but the moment Danny woke up with white eyes watching him in curiosity did he remembered what happened.

Her name was Anna, she loves to do photography. She wanted to take pictures in the woods. She saw a man in the woods. She turned around. She made a mistake. She died with a stab wound and her body was left to rot in that crack in the ground. She wasn’t buried. She was killed and left behind.

She died two months ago.

That was when Danny remembered that not everyone can die a quiet death.

(He helped her cross over and brought her to a city in the zone. He didn’t want to leave, not yet, but he knew he had a duty and promised to visit.

It took a couple of weeks until he saw her smile through her endless tears.)

Then months passed and more trips became a common thing during the summer break. Since it was the summer, their ‘ghost hunting’ trips would take them further away from Amity and all over the state.

In that one summer season he found other ghosts that were just like Anna. Some in alleyways, others on the road, some at gas stations, a few in front of their homes and the scary sad few that were found in the middle of nowhere.

Murdered, killed, car accident, strokes, hunger and more.

Death is not something Danny thought of as scary. He thought that those that had died already, those that where ghost, the scary ones. He forgot that death was not something everyone wanted.

(He repressed the memory of how painful his death was.)

But he learned, he remembered, and he helped.

He wanted to help, to help those that died to soon or to sudden, He wanted to help the ghost that seem so angry, so sad, and the few that looked so empty and helpless that they look worse the living.

Those looked like they never lived at all.

So, he helped, he helped because this was all he can do. If he can give at least one ghost a peaceful passing, then he can trade those few hours of sleepless nights happily.

half a year later his parents chose to make an extended trip during the winter break (which he didn’t mind since they would miss chrismas in Amity Park, a miracle all on its own.)

The problem is that the place they wanted to take a trip was in Gotham.

A city where crime and death rates are at their highest.

He wasn’t surprised when he saw a ghost in Gotham, however, he was surprised when most of the ghosts seemed to be far more calming then all the rest.

They did not wail in sadness nor did the scream to the high heavens of the unfairness of it all. No, they simply watched over the people that lived there for years and lifetimes more than them.

He thought that it might be easy to take them across the zone and back to their home because of how calm they were, how reasonable, however, that was not the case.

Instead, they wanted him to help Gotham and the people that lived in those very streets.

He should have said no, he should have turned away, heck, he should have dragged them back to the zone and be done with it all.

But he looked deep into the eyes of the dead citizens of this crime filled city and saw sadness. Sadness for the living that had to walk a life of danger, a never-ending release.

They cared not of their own undead lives but the ones that have yet to die.

And the undead teenage can only sigh before reaching out his hand as a sign of peace.

“Who would you like me to save?”

#dc x dp #dp x dc #Danny Phantom #danny fenton

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littlebigmouse · 10 months

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The utter tragedy that is Gwen Stacy.

Like all spider people, she has to figure it out by herself. An endless slew of villains and only one teenage girl against them. An endless slew of villains and one of them turns out to be her best friend.

Peter Parker was bullied until he couldn't take it any more, and decided to fight back. She must not have noticed him cracking, breaking. He knew her secret the entire time, was there for her the entire time, and she didn't even realize his true identity until he was already burried under scaffolding and rubble.

"I just wanted to be special, like you." She's a wanted criminal now. She's always alone. She's hiding increasingly bigger and bigger parts of herself from her father, who loves and supports her and tells her he's going to lock her up as a means to comfort her.

And then he tries to. And she takes the mask off and he keeps trying. Gwen Stacy held at gun point by the last and only loved one she has in the world.

A freak accident happens and she winds up in a place where a Spiderperson has it all figured out and is a well respected member of their community. A place where her best friend is alive and well and special right up until she sees his corpse plastered on news reports all over a foreign city. And there are other Spider people. Other Peter Parkers, all haunting her with never-ending "What could have beens". Gwen isn't alone any more until she is, two days later and with no means to ever see the one tentative friend she may have made, ever again.

A year passed and he might have just moved on from her, anyway.

Gwen Stacy meets a Spiderwoman who is cool and capable and doesn't let love drag her down, but she still gained happiness, somewhere out there. Jessica Drew is a flicker of hope for Gwen that there might be happiness waiting for her, for a Spiderperson that isn't Peter Parker.

Except of course, Jess seems to barely tolerate her. The rescue, safety, is conditional. If Gwen falters, if Gwen isn't good enough, if Gwen slips up even once, she will prove herself a liability, will be send back into isolation, a hopeless situation, home. Will disappoint a person she's trying so hard to impress and connect with.

Spider society is still haunted by the countless ghosts of her best friend. Because every Peter Parker became a hero except hers. Every Peter Parker is fundamentally a good person who wants to save people, every Spiderperson is a good person who wants to save people, except her Peter and this Gwen, who has his blood on her hands. Notice how Gwen and Peter B barely talk, never have a real emotional conversation with each other. They treat each other as equals, and they do care about each other, but they can't shake off the ghosts haunting each other's faces.

Gwen tells Miles "in every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman." People don't soften their blows for Gwen. How did she find out about all the dead Gwen Stacys? She spend several months dimension hopping on missions, did she witness a Peter Parker fail to save his best friend? Is that a "canon event" for Peter Parker? For Spiderman?

Maybe Gwen and Peter can't coexist in the same universe without one of them dying tragically young. Maybe Gwen was never supposed to be Spiderwoman, stole the spot from Peter Parker, robbed him of his life, and her universe hates her for it now. One more anomaly for Miguel to catch later, once he finds out.

Maybe Gwen is the one who got away, she one Gwen who's supposed to have got it good, who made it, will live to see 30. The one Gwen to survive and she's alone, unloved, teetering on the edge. The Gwen that is special and thus shares her fate with all the spider people - will either watch her father die or watch him lock her up or even shoot her on sight. Which is worse? Miles asks Gwen whether that's it, and she just says "Yeah". She gets to chose between the rock and the hard place. Maybe she doesn't have a choice. Gwen Stacy either dies or watches everyone else die. Does it matter, which is written into the fabric of the universe and which is a fluke?

Gwen tries to play by the rules, can't risk messing up again for Jess, can't risk losing Miles, can't risk losing one more friend. One more friend because she can't help but get attached to people, can't help but fall in love with a Spiderman, like all the other doomed Gwens in other universes. But Miles is so fundamentally good he's burried under scaffolding and rubble, curled around a little kid he's saved. Gwen almost watches her best friend die a second time, willing to watch a few civilians die instead. She's been on the other side of that equation and the regret is tearing her apart, the other way around must be better, right?

Would Gwen do it again, knowing who was hidden beneath the scales? Would she sacrifice his bully, her classmates? A little kid and a police captain? Her police captain?

The tragedy of the classic trolley problem is that someone always dies anyway, no matter whether you pull the lever.

Gwen has alltogehter pulled way too many levers.

#Gwen is only 16 #listen i've been having so many feelings about Gwen you don't even know #screaming crying eating glass #gwen stacy #peter parker #miles morales #across the spiderverse #smatsv #spiderverse #gwen angst #spiderman across the spider verse spoilers #atsv #trolley problem #thank god miles decides to just stop the guy tying all these people to the tracks #in one case anyway

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st4rb3rr13s · 9 months

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Evergreen Scent

❁Eren being toxic.

I’m kinda bad with angst but here we go !! (Why did this take like an hour lord.)

Warning: cheating, manipulation, pregnancy, emotional abuse. (Tell me if I need anymore warnings!)

Your tears flooded as you left the house. You couldn’t believe it, couldn’t understand it. You didn’t understand how someone could be as cruel as he was. Someone as filthy as he was. Everyone told you to stay away, even your mother who was welcome to everyone told you to stay away. But you didn’t listen, you thought you could change him. He could grow as a person.

The boy you thought you could change was Eren. He couldn’t change, he was the same man who left on his babies mother because she was crazy, the same man who almost killed his brother, the same man who never loved you. You were to blind to see that.

Maybe if he didn’t give you that boyish grin that day. The day he walked over to you on that rainy Monday afternoon. It was a calm day, you had nothing to do. So you decided to go to your favorite cafe, and that’s where you saw him.

Now you didn’t know what he had did before or who he was with before, but you knew he was the one for you. His unserious nature had you laughing the whole time he was with you. The smell of evergreen he so loved to put on lingered on his t-shirt. You never wanted that man to go, so he gave you his phone number.

He was so loving and caring. He made sure you were smiling everytime you were with him. It was so different from how your ex was. He made you feel right at home when he was in your presence. He encouraged you to quit your job so you could spend more time with him. You always tried to decline, but he became more persistent. He was trying to look out for you, wanted you to be comfortable. You raved to your friends and family about him. Although they didn’t like him, if you were happy they didn’t mind him.

Once you two started to live with each other, you quit your job. You didn’t need your co-workers who were nasty to you or that boss who just didn’t know when to quit. All you needed was Eren. All he needed was you. He would do anything for you, he said. Everything started to change afterwards, though.

He was home a lot less, and never paid you any mind. You were confused, why was he so dotting before but now acts like your just a roommate? He always said he loved you, sure he said it a little too early in the relationship but it just meant he really did. And you loved him too, right?

You were confused when one day you opened the door to see a woman standing in the front door asking to see him, with a baby on her hip. Eren told you not to worry about it, but then the woman started yelling about his child. You couldn’t believe he kept this from you. A big secret like that. You were mad at him, but he just hugged you and apologized. Eren never apologized, so he must really be sorry.

You had gotten all dressed up for a date he planned. You were excited, he hadn’t taken you out in so long. You got your nails done, hair done, everything. You even made sure to put on a dress he’d be dying to take off of you. When you came out, you saw him passed out with a beer on the table. You were confused but then realized he forgot. It was a mistake, a lot has been on his mind. Especially since he’s the bread winner, he’s the one working. You just decided to help him get to bed and clean up.

Eren asked you to cut off that friend of yours. Why was she telling you to break up with him over a couple forgotten dates? She was trying to manipulate you into such things. He would decide whose good to be around you and who wasn’t. So slowly, you isolated yourself from your friends and family.

Your pregnancy shocked him and yourself. It was unexpected and quite frankly nerve racking. You were overthinking when he wrapped his arms around you, telling you everything was going to be ok. He’d be here for you and your child. No, our child, he corrected. It made you feel safe, maybe it was a good thing. Maybe he’d be home more, and taking care of you just like he said. He would love you like he did back then.

It was quite the opposite. He spent more time away from home, coming home drunk or high, or even both. The smell on his hoodie is mixed with whiskey, the evergreen cologne, and cheap perfume. The cheap perfume lingers through all of his clothes, which made you question where he was. When you tried to ask, he cut you off. Who were you to be asking where he was? He’s the man in the house, you don’t ask him where he was at. If you wanna know so bad, you can leave.

Eren got more aggravated with everything you did. You forgot to wash the dishes because you were nauseous? Take some medicine and get your lazy ass up. Didn’t wash his clothes like how he wants it? Puts bleach all over your clothes. Threw out something of his you thought he didn’t need anymore? Takes your phone privileges away for a week.

Not like you can really do anything on there, though. Can’t have social media, he thought it was too toxic for your brain. And you could contact those people he told you to block off. If he saw any man in your dms, he’d kill him. So he just thought it was better for you to only have some games and him as your contact.

You wanted to take a small walk because it was nice outside. Although your feet kind of hurt, the doctor told you it was good for you to get exercise. So that’s exactly what you did, plus Eren thought you were getting a little big. His ex didn’t get that big. So you took your small walk.

It started to rain, soaking all your clothes. You took a deep breath, knowing you’d have to go back. Soon as you walked in, you heard a certain creaking in your bed. The type of sound sacred to only him and you. You closed the door a little loud so maybe you could think it’s all a dream. Maybe the creaking would stop. He wouldn’t do this to the mother of his child. You stomped up the stairs still hearing the sound, but a woman’s voice as well. One you couldn’t tell. Your mind was just playing games on you. You opened the door, seeing Eren on top of woman who’s legs were entangled with his. Eren turned back, eyes widening.

You quickly slam the door before walking out the house. Clothing still drenched in rain, you had no where to go. You took a deep breath, looking down at the pavement floor, wondering how it got this bad. How did this happen? What did you see all those years ago? Tears flooded your eyes, threatening to pour out, when someone wrapped their arms around you.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered.

Your body, feeling drained. The words that meant absolutely nothing spit out of his mouth. The lies he promises you, to change. He can change, he’ll be better for you. For your child, no our child. Give him another chance.

Although you wanted to go, a sharp pain you felt in your heart wasn’t letting you. How could you leave the man who helped you get out of that toxic job, your toxic friend group, your toxic life? He made one mistake, he said he’d change. So, you broke to his evergreen scent.

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beoneofus · 1 year

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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐩𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞

unedited

for starters, he never asked for a soulmate. not one like you, nor any other specimen on the planet. paul always thought he'd be alone, whether his mate was already dead or just didn't exist, so he never had the faith of meeting the one he was meant to be with forever.

he slept around, got high, partied, ate til he was nearly spilling it all out. maybe it was a way to cope with his self doubt and inner termoil, or perhaps the was just meant to be a fucked up, horny vampire that loved rock music and bud.

but then you came along. you moved to santa carla and hit the boardwalk just like everyone else, only difference was you didn't fall right into his palm like every other person did. despite your guys’ pull to one another, you weren't interested.

your mother actually forced you out that night. the days were flying by like nothing, and all you did was stay in your room. very little did you come out to eat, and when you finished using the bathroom you just journied right back into your safe space. your mother was sick of you not only just lounging around, but isolating yourself from the world and showing interest in literally nothing.

then, you just so happened to walk past a certain blonde that night when you were headed over to one of the many stands that lined the boardwalk. he instantly caught whiff of a sweet scent and couldn't help but accidentally run into you.

from there, he'd bother you, until eventually you began chatting either him. It took some time for you two to grow close because of your lack of trust, but it happened at some point. he let you in on his secret, and surprisingly you weren't freaked out. you just asked lazily if he could keep the gore away from you for the time being.

when you two finally became an official pair, you spent more time around his brothers (or friends). they didn't take much of a liking to you due to you not being very interesting.

although dwayne seemed the most kind, he found you to be a drag. you really sucked the fun out of almost everything - at least in their eyes.

paul saw you as something more, though. whether it be the soulmate bond or not, everything you did he was astonished by. everytime you weren't paying attention, he'd admire you as much as possible; lips usually fell open on silent amazement.

he'd always watch you. there wasn't a minute that passed where the man wasn't admiring your beauty every time he could. if a girl tried to flirt with him? he'd brush her off. if a guy tried to compliment his hair? he'd thank him, but would be staring at you. if a person tried talking to him? he would ignore them, as simple as that.

but, back to his brothers not liking you. he didn't exactly enjoy that, nor take kindly to the shit they said when you weren't around.

“ I'm tellin’ you paul, you gotta ditch that bat! ” marko would comment, arms flying into the air dramatically. “ they're boring! ”

payl ended up settling that, that night by beating the ever living piss put of that vampire. his eyes were narrowed, breath ragged, mouth and hands bloody. marko looked no better. usually, those two were as close as a pair of kings, but you? you were more important to him.

“ that's my soulmate, man. leave them out of shit. don't let me hear any of you speak badly about them again. ”

this man always stuck up for you, and was always by your side. sometimes you were completely oblivious to it. but, other times, when people actually dared say shit to your face, he was right on their ass; nose to nose, nearly fist to face.

“ come by them again! huh, I fucking dare you! ”

you never voiced it, but you were very thankful for him. you never noticed before, but paul actually made things more enjoyable.

you slowly began coming out of your shell more, the more you were around him. smiles were pulled from you often, whether paul actually saw it, or if you managed to hide it. you sometimes cracked a small chuckle at his cheesy jokes and god classic pick up lines. the way his hair always blew out of his face and surrounded his head when he road his bike, actually made your heart race.

paul was so, so pretty in your eyes. you had never felt like that for someone. you never even seen anyone in such an admirable perspective. but him? this vampire gave you heart palpitations and it took you so long to realize.

when paul got into fights on your behalf, you always felt bad. It got to the point where you actually volenteered to clean him up. he was surprised the first time around, cause usually you'd look at him with an unreadable stare, and watch as he stormed off.

but, after having him sit in front of you back at your house on your bed, dabbing a cotton ball covered in hydrogen peroxide over his face, he didn't question it; instead, choosing to enjoy the attention you gave him. it made him melt, the way you were so focused on your work. your caring gaze, which was new to see. the way your lips parted, the way you chewed on your bottom lip out of nervousness.

everytime it happened, silence hung in the air. paul knew you were awkward when it came to talking, but he learned to admire that. with the way he was practically speed gonzalez, it was refreshing to have someone who was opposite to him. someone... not necessarily calm, but down to earth and different.

you were the yin to his yang.

the first time he mentioned taking you on a date, it was very... odd, on his end. for one, he's never been on a date; not for a while, at least. for two, he had no clue how to approach you. what if you rejected his offer? what if he made a fool of himself? paul wasn't one to question his antics, but with you it was so different.

he had went with getting you your favorite flowers, the darkest shade he could come across. a note was attached to them, and silently you had read it.

“ pleeeease go on a date with me. If you do, I'll buy you those gummies you love! ”

you looked up at him with a neutral expression, only to see him smiling nervously, big and wide, practically sweating bullets. It was actually laughable, but the best you managed was a crooked smile.

“ I'll go with you.. ” you croaked out, nervously clearing your throat. It was adorable.

paul literally cheered. pumped his fist into the air, before jumping up and down in a circle, nodding his head wildly. he ended up picking you up by the waist and spinning you around too, leaving you to gawk at him. everyone could've swore he proposed and you said yes.

your dates were nothing special at first, but eventually they progressed the more comfortable you got. paul wanted you to feel safe, loved, cherished... he truly cared about you.

everything you two did together, he took his time. he knew that's what you truly needed. someone who was chill, fun, but also understanding.

that's why he never complained, because he needed someone too.. someone who actually took the time to get to know the real him. he needed you.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #paul the lost boys #tlb 1987 #paul tlb #paul the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys headcanon

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sakura-code · 6 months

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Kurumi Wendy

Character Expansion

I’ll admit as much as I like Kurumi, I feel like she is kind of underdeveloped even though she is suppose to be an important character and part of the main cast. So I wanted to expand her character more, along with adding informations to give her more depth. They will be referenced in my fics, but only briefly (and maybe gets overshadowed with the main stories that people may forget).

I used information from the game and interpreted them in my own perspective, or just made speculation of my own choices. You guys are free to use my speculations if you want to.

Her parents are workaholic who are busy a lot of the times in an isolated city where other businesses outside of Amaterasu may be overshadowed, hence why they don’t appear a lot. They also have a lot of trust in Kurumi to take care of herself, hence why she’s always out and about, especially when there may have been they probably would want her staying home (like the time she got nearly arrested and the fact four of her classmates died, yet she was still out and about freely the next day)

When Kurumi was younger, her grandfather would always look after her when her parents are busy, hence why she looks up to him so much and talks about him more than her own parents

Her grandfather was a retired detective, hence why Kurumi looks up to detectives so much to the point of looking to them as heroes, and some of the quotes she passed down like “finding the truth” and knowing so well about being a detective despite not being one

Aiko was Kurumi’s first and closest friend she made in Aetheria Academy. She was wary to befriend many of the students since most of their parents do work in Amaterasu, and she does not want to get caught as an informant.

After Aiko’s death, Kurumi actually became withdrawn from her other friends to the point the friendship faded away. It’s like she’s still friendly to everyone, but she doesn’t make close, personal relationships with them since she has been so focused on figuring out Aiko’s death

This is more of a headcanon, but I headcanon her (along with Yoshiko, Kurane, Waruna, Karen, and Aiko) to be 17-18 and in their senior years in high school

#master detective archives: rain code #rain code #master detective archives spoilers #rain code spoilers #rain code chapter 2 spoilers #rain code chapter two spoilers #kurumi wendy #rain code kurumi #gonna have the facts under ‘read more’ so if I add more on the post and it gets reblog #people can still see the new additions #i might make one-shots or a story in hope to expand Kurumi’s character compared to the game #I have a lot of experience from planning Miraculous fanfics

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patheticlittlemen · 1 year

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WORK WIFE

[Edward Nashton x male reader]

Chapter 1- Do You Ever Get Scared?

Drinks with coworkers won’t change your life. Right?

Words: 1880

Warnings: None

A/N: Reader is FTM and autistic (not huge plot points but may be mentioned in minor ways)

Being a receptionist wasn’t really the plan for your future. Honestly, you’ve had stars in your eyes since you were a child and finally getting out of Gotham made you believe you could maybe, just maybe, leave a mark on the world. But eventually, it all came crashing down, and look where you are now. Working a receptionist job at a forensic accounting company in Gotham.

You hate this city. Getting out and going to college was supposed to be your salvation, but if there is a God, he is a vengeful one. So here you are, working at a company you couldn’t give less of a shit about. You lost all your friends when you moved out of Gotham, so when you came back all you had was your mom. The most exciting Friday night plan was binging TV and eating takeout.

Today was no different from any other. It’s Friday, so of course you’re excited for the weekend but are also dreading the terrible loneliness that came with it. Lost in your own thoughts and mulling over shows to watch tonight, you spot movement in the corner of your eye.

You look up and jump at the sudden appearance, relaxing when you see that it’s Edward Nashton. He’s an accountant in the office and probably the closest thing you have to a friend. You only see him at work but enjoy every conversation. Edward smiles at your surprised expression.

“Hey. I brought you some coffee.” He says, placing a paper cup on your desk. “Cream and sugar just how you like.”

You smile thankfully at him and take a sip.

When you first met Edward, he was shy and tensed up any time you talked to him. After working together for a few months, he finally loosened up and became more friendly. You’re glad he did because if he had kept his distance you probably would have had a psychotic break due to isolation. You will admit you’ve grown a crush on him, but you’re too afraid of rejection to make a move.

“I hope you know when I get rich and famous, I’m gonna pay you back for all the coffee you’ve made me.” You say jokingly.

“I’ll take it. What would you get famous for though?” Edward leans against your desk.

“Hmm.. probably for being the best receptionist in the world.” You say overdramatically as Edward lets out a chuckle.

“You’re definitely the best at this company.”

“Well, I’m flattered.”

The sound of the door opening catches both of you off guard as someone enters the building. You shoot an apologetic glance at Edward, who smiles understandingly and walks off while you deal with the guest.

After sitting for hours and greeting maybe two more people, you get up to stretch and go to the bathroom. You smile at your coworkers who were talking in the break room and go to do your business. Once you exit though, someone in the break room stops you.

“Hey Y/N, we’re going out for drinks tonight and want everyone there. You interested?” says Benjamin, someone that you didn’t know well but was always cordial to you.

“Oh! Yeah, I’ll go,” you say, excited for the chance to be around people outside of work.

“Awesome. I’ll text you the details.” He said, smiling as you turn to walk away.

You begrudgingly walk back to your desk and prepare to waste more time. About half an hour passes when Edward comes back to your desk. You look up, once again surprised to see somebody.

“Oh, hey Edward. What’s up?” you say, looking back to the intense game of solitaire you were playing on your computer.

“Nothing really, I was just… wondering if you were going out tonight. To the thing. I mean, drinks with everyone.” he seems uncharacteristically nervous and stumbles over his words.

“Yeah, planning on it. You?” You glance up at him and his cheeks turn red. He mumbles something in response but clears his throat and speaks up.

“Yes, I’m going. I was just asking because I think we live in the same area. I thought we could carpool.”

“Oh, that’s right. That works for me, who do you want to drive?” you say, feeling eager that he wants to go with you.

“I can. I don’t drink much anyway.”

“Sounds good. Here, give me your number so I can text you my address.” You say, opening your contacts and passing him your phone.

Edward accidentally touches your hand while grabbing your phone and you could feel that it was sweaty. Luckily your hands don’t sweat much otherwise you’re sure he would feel the same thing from you. He hands your phone back with an awkward smile.

“Awesome. I’ll text you after work.”

“Cool. Uh, I guess I’d better get back to… what I was doing.” Edward says, nervously shuffling away, which makes you laugh a little.

Edward hasn’t been this timid since you met him, which confuses you a little, but you brush it off as him being nervous for tonight. Speaking of, your phone buzzes and you see a text from Benjamin.

Benjamin: We’re planning on meeting at Gotham Trade around 6:30 PM. Hope to see you there :)

The rest of the day drones by with you passing the time thinking about what you might wear while playing (and losing) games of solitaire. Finally, the clock hits 5 and you quickly gather all your stuff and practically run out the door. The promise of human interaction with anybody outside of work, let alone Edward, made you giddy.

After arriving home, you realize you haven’t texted him yet. You pull out your phone and open your contacts to Edward’s page, trying to ignore any nervousness you had about texting him while clicking the message button.

Y/N: Hey Edward, it’s Y/N. Just wanted to send my address and let you know I should be ready around 6 or so.

After sending the message and your address, you drop all your stuff and make a beeline for the shower. Admittedly, it had been a while since your last one. At the moment dry shampoo was your best friend.

After calming yourself down with a warm shower, you try to choose an outfit. Gotham Trade isn’t a very fancy place so you don’t want to wear anything super nice. Still, you want to look good so you spend a little extra time digging through your closet and eventually settle on a white button-down under a sweatshirt. Not too nice but a little more than casual. While grabbing a pair of jeans from your floor and checking to make sure they still smell clean, you hear your phone buzz.

Edward: Sounds good. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.

You feel butterflies in your stomach at the thought of Edward coming to pick you up. Pushing the intense feelings down, you continue to get ready. You decide to use a nice cologne that had been sitting on your dresser for a while. It was a gift from your mom for your last birthday and it made you happy that you finally had a reason to use it. You spray some on and grab your phone to check the time, seeing a message from Edward.

Edward: Heading out now.

You didn’t even realize how close to 6 it was and frantically put on a pair of shoes. Using the last few minutes to mess with your hair, you pray that it would stay neat as your phone buzzes again with a message from Edward letting you know he was here. You double-check to make sure you have everything you need as you leave your apartment, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

It’s just Edward. It’s just a work get-together. It’s not that serious.

The chilly wind bites at your face when you step outside and you wish you had put on another layer before you left, but it’s too late for that now. Edward is parked next to the curb, anxiously looking around. You wave to him and his face relaxes a bit as you walk up to his car and open the door.

“Hey,” you say, settling in the passenger seat, “thanks for driving me.”

“Oh, it was no problem. It’s nice to see you outside of work, plus we live close so it made sense to me.” Edward says, pulling onto the road.

While Edward focuses on driving, you took this opportunity to get a good look at what he was wearing. He had on a button-up shirt like he did to work but had jeans and a dark green cardigan on as well. You notice that his hair looked a bit wet, he probably took a shower after work too. Suddenly you were pulled out of your observations as he glances over at you. Blood rushes to your cheeks as you look away.

“Keep your eyes on the road, Edward.” You mumble, trying to alleviate the embarrassment of being caught staring. He chuckles at your statement.

You stared out the window for a moment until gaining the courage to compliment him.

“I like your-”

“You look-”

Both of your sentences die out as you wait for the other to finish. When neither of you continues, you laugh and speak up.

“I just wanted to say I like your sweater. Green looks nice on you.” Edward smiles at that, letting out a sheepish “thanks”.

“Um, I think you look nice. You smell good too.” Edward’s brows furrow a bit at the last comment as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“Thanks! It’s a cologne that was a gift from my mom and I’m glad to finally use it.” Normally when you got nervous you had a tendency to ramble but luckily you were able to stop yourself there. You feel kind of silly about how anxious you were. It was as if you were a middle schooler going on their first date. You struggle to come up with something to break the silence until Edward speaks up before you.

“Have you ever been to this bar before?”

“Once or twice, with my mom. I’m not a huge bar person.” You admit. Edward smiles, nodding.

“I’ve never been there. I just don’t get out much I guess.”

“Well, this is a great time to start. Maybe you’ll meet some pretty lady tonight. Or a man, you do you. I know I sure wouldn’t mind some company tonight.” You joke. Edward laughs nervously and glances at you.

“I doubt it.”

“Who wouldn’t want a piece of you? I know I’m holding back every time you come to my desk.” You say, regretting the sentence the minute it comes out of your mouth. It came out as a joke, as you had a tendency to jokingly flirt with your friends but you still hope any sincerity in the confession was hidden.

Edward doesn’t say anything for a second but his grip on the steering wheel tightens. He then lets out a chuckle, shaking his head as his car approaches the warmly lit building. You look out the window at the buildings and hope you’re able to make it through the night.

#edward nashton #edward nygma #the riddler #edward nashton x reader #ftm reader #autistic reader #he is my blorbo #my sad soggy kitten

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autumnalwalker · 10 months

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The Archivist's Journal: Complete

Well, as complete as it's going to be at any rate. The original "journal entry a day for a year" project is now up at @thearchivistsjournal in its entirety and clocking in at just over 330,000 words.

To everyone who's read any of this story, whether keeping up with it as it updates, reading it archivally (pun intended), or just reading snippets in tag games: Thank you. I hope it brought you at least some small amount of joy

I don't know that I'll ever do a second draft/editing pass, given that the sort of raw "just a journal I was keeping"-ness of the whole thing is half the point. Or maybe I'm just too emotionally attached to what ended up being a far more personal project than I originally intended to bear making the cuts that proper editing would entail. Or maybe I'm simply too lazy and too eager to move on to the next thing.

Although if I'm being entirely honest, this is - in a way - the second editing pass that's up online.

Confession Time:

While it is true that The Archivist's Journal was written at a rate of one entry a day for a year (plus Days 365-380 all in one marathon writing session on the last day), the dates that the project ran from was from July 16, 2021 to July 15, 2022. On July 16, 2022 I made my first ever post on Tumblr and began putting The Archivist's Journal online one day at a time, with each entry going online on the anniversary of the day I originally wrote it.

There were some minor edits in this, but they were all of the nature of minor typographical fixes. Spelling errors, odd line breaks, words that were technically spelled right but not the one I meant, the occasional addition/subtraction/substitution of a word or phrase. That sort of thing. Nothing that actually changed the story, or even altered an individual scene.

I apologize if this has all come across as a misrepresentation of myself. The truth is, when I originally started this project it was something purely for myself and it wasn't until I was approaching the end that I realized that I had something that might possibly be worth sharing, even if only one person somewhere liked it. But I felt that the serial format of one entry a day keeping analogous between real time and story time so I kept the posts staggered in that way. Honestly, I don't think that I could have written this project and kept it up at the pace that I did if I'd also been trying to maintain an online presence at the time.

And speaking of the pace, that's perhaps the biggest reason I ended the story where I did rather than keeping it up indefinitely. Averaging around 800 words a day every single day straight when I also have a full-time job and other hobbies (even after cutting back on those hobbies in favor of writing) was not sustainable for me, and as much as Iove this project, I was burnt out by the end, mentally and emotionally (and physically given how it impacted my sleep schedule and ate the time I used to spend exercising). And then there was the weirder factor of the journal format combining with pandemic lockdowns/self-isolation to start to feel enough like a second life to make me mildly concerned for my mental health were it to keep going the way it was. As I said, it turned out to be an unexpectedly personal work, and the Archivist became far more of a self-insert (albeit obviously with certain traits idealized and certain flaws exaggerated) than originally intended.

So, what's next?

For the most part, continuing on with Empty Names as my current main focus project (once I finish up with my current writing hiatus to take care of various personal and IRL things). I don't particularly like working on two things at once. One day once Empty Names is finished (most likely a couple years from now, given my much more leisurely pace these days) I'd like to go back and revisit that "Untitled Solar Punk Witch Story" in some fashion. Assuming I don't get some other grand project idea before then.

That said, over the past year I have written a few sporadic entries for The Archivist's Journal. A sort of checking in every few months to see how that world and those characters are doing. I'll most likely post those as their anniversaries roll around to keep them in temporal sync with the rest of the online postings. These entries are more epilogue than sequel though, so Day 380 will remain the end of the "main story" of The Archivist's Journal.

So, yeah. That's all that. And again, I apologize for any misrepresentation of myself. While I don't know that I'll ever do anything quite like The Archivist's Journal again, it will always hold a special place for me. Among many other things, it taught me that writing is something I enjoy doing and that I wish to keep doing for a long time to come.

And if anyone happens to like what I write, that's pretty cool too.

Thanks for reading.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #my writing #The Archivist's Journal

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eldragon-x · 1 year

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Alright here's my little love letter to Genesect and the Legend Awakened where I basically just point at and gush about some of the things I really like

What's funny is that I assumed Mewtwo would just be shoehorned in for nostalgia but she actually really enhances the plot. She's the first to sympathize with the Genesect just on the basis that they are also (partially) manmade Pokemon who feel out of place in the world. Mewtwo was isolated until a group of Pokemon helped her and she became close to some others afterwards, so she reaches out to the Genesect hoping to help them similarly. But she's also willing to fight and put a stop to them once they start causing harm to other Pokemon.

I also love the contrast between the main Genesect and the leader Genesect. Making the main Genesect a child is very effective in making the viewer and characters outside of Mewtwo have sympathy for them. It also makes it believable that this Genesect was quick to bond with Ash despite how distrustful towards everyone the group in general is.

Compare that to the red Genesect leader who is a lot more ruthless, aggressive and the most stubbornly distrustful one in the group. Yet you know that it's not just flat out bad because it's very apparant in the beginning that red Genesect is pretty much the protector of the group as well and I honestly really rooted for it to let down its walls towards the end.

And the way this is achieved is by Mewtwo carrying it into space, calling back to the scene in the beginning where she tried to fly high into the sky but got exhausted. That way red Genesect can't attack anyone and as it and Mewtwo look down onto earth, she has a heart to heart with them and I just love how tender that scene is, especially after Genesect spent most of the movie lashing out and fighting Mewtwo.

There's also something just very touching about her saying that they were both created on this planet because there is a reason for them to be there. This is their home and they both belong. And if all the people and Pokemon living in this world can get along as friends, there is a place for the Genesect too even if the world around them has changed drastically. Mewtwo says she and Genesect can be friends and reaches out for it like she did before and this time, instead of fighting her off, it accepts her.

Calling back to red Genesect being protective and Mewtwo getting exhausted while flying into the sky, she passes out on their way back to earth and Genesect immediately tries to save her from the fall. Maybe I'm reading a bit much into it underlining Genesect's protectiveness, but it's touching regardless after they had so much conflict.

Back on earth there's also a scene that calls back much more obviously to Mewtwo literally reaching out to the Genesect when she helps it get out of the water

I've talked way too much about Mewtwo and red Genesect at this point now lmao but I just really love the development between them and how it culminates in the space scene.

As for a very strong scene with child Genesect that really got me, which I talked about before, is how all the fighting harmed the Lotus flowers that the Genesect recongized from their ancient home, which is the first thing child Genesect notices when they wake up after being knocked out. They pick up one of the flowers and the water from the pond dripping down their body makes it look like they're crying despite them being mechanical which is just so good.

#pkmn #gen5 #genesect movie

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1gotaboy · 7 months

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since brokeback mountain is gaining a bit of attention on social media again and i have grown to love instead of cringe at my old writing i would love to share a piece of review i did in my sophomore year of college for my film class!

The 2005 film Brokeback Mountain, directed by Ang Lee, features lead actors Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger in career solidifying roles that challenge viewers to reconceptualize what it means to be a modern cowboy. Though stereotypes serve as the vehicle in which the characters Ennis Del Mar (Ledger) and Jack Twist (Gyllenhaal) are introduced to the audience, the ideas of love and shame are stripped of normalcy because identity and the complexities of life are brought into focus instead of heartbreak. Though the timing for this film’s release may not seem out of place historically, cowboy culture was left shocked and bewildered.

Though Brokeback Mountain tackled subjects unremarkable when examined independent from one another, it became a perfect storm of uniqueness. Jack and Ennis meet after taking on a job for the summer, herding sheep on Brokeback Mountain. The days were hard and exhausting, as to be expected of the job, but the solitude of the mountain allowed the two men to form their own sphere of existence. This unexpected bond awkwardly awakens feelings for each other, rapidly evolving into something more than friendship. The summer ends with isolated lovers parting ways, back to reality where Ennis is set to marry a woman (Michelle Williams), while Jack moves on to work the rodeo circuit, finding a bride of his own (Ann Hathaway). As the monotony of marriage erodes each character’s misplaced hope for contentment, hope seems trivial and unwarranted; life is simply “life”. However, married life finds relief when Ennis receives a letter from Jack, wanting to see him again after four years pass. The mountain seems to deceptively tether Jack and Ennis to true intimacy. Deception wears many faces in the years to come with everyone playing victim and villain alike. It seems as though all spouses want to ignore what happens on the mountain, but marriages are not innately built for four to endure and leave unharmed. Ennis and Jack have their own form of true intimacy, bar beyond the confines of sex and monogamy; as such, breakdowns and fights replace passionate with grief. Each encounter is more devastating than the last, simple yet complex.

Brokeback Mountain has been on my watchlist for years, but never found time for. It is definitely a film I wish I had taken the time to view sooner, but wish I had known how hard it would be to watch more than once. I cannot un-know how violent beauty can be, how beautiful a cold mountain can be. Brokeback Mountain shocked me thoroughly, even after the third viewing. There was always something that made me gasp, close my eyes as though each seen plastic, and cry for fictional characters who walk among the living. Maybe I am just an emotional person, but it is more likely that this film was perfectly juxtaposed between hope and trauma. Ennis was always very violent, picking fights with people he would randomly meet, with Jack, and even with himself. Ledger seems to have a legacy of pain, both in his craft and personal life. I am not sure you can fake that level of profound pain. I no longer think of Ledger as an acting genius, but addicted to the drug of self-deception. He knew he was unhappy with his life and longed to be with the person he was intrinsically bound to, his daughter Matilda. Ledger was a tapestry of art and real life. Always unraveling, life never holds anything constant except uncertainty. Ennis was just a cowboy who tried his best to play the part he knew; Ledger ‘s life seemed to follow suit.

Gyllenhaal deserves praise for his take on Jack Twist, but I did not go to bed thinking about his place in my bewildered psyche. Identity moratorium was sadly inevitable after viewing Brokeback Mountain, though I see little of myself in each character..

Ennis seemed to be a shell of a “family” guy- the broken cowboy with a heavy heart. I feel every ounce of being a teenager with far more levity. Jack, on the other hand, was ready to take love in all forms presented, yet never at all. Jack embodied the rodeo to Ennis’ mountain. Jack may have offered Ennis love, proclaiming his desire to spend the rest of his life with him, desperate for passion and validation. Though the men may have loved one another, reality cannot replace the abiding intimacy afforded by the mountain’s protective bubble. My experience with Brokeback Mountain was heartbreaking, to say the least. Never being able to be with the person you truly connect with is terrifying as though the world is never on your side.

I thought the cinematography done by Rodrigo Prieto was perfection. Always beautiful and well suited with daunting openness. In the beginning of the film when Jack and Ennis are herding sheep for the summer, the mountains of Brokeback are gorgeous. It was surrounded by tons of greenery, horses and sheep. Blue and starry skies. Everything you might think a cowboy would want in the mountains of Brokeback. It fit the blossoming love that was in the very beginning stages of Jack and Ennis’ relationship. It was fresh and young and something you get butterflies seeing on screen. Every time they went back to Brokeback and the same skies were there and it reminded me of when they were once young cowboys.

Do I think this film is suited for everyone? No. This is far from a romance film about cowboys who have a dramatic love story. Terrifying beauty is not everyone’s cup of tea. Do I think everyone should see this film? Yes, even if it is just once. This film is a journey and can hold cumbersome power over you. I see why this film is iconic, not only for the LGBTQ+ community, but for film in general. From the cinematography to the plot, if you are into layers, you would be able to understand the themes of Brokeback Mountain are human, not sexual. Ennis is seemingly still alive in this review, as I cannot quit this film, no matter how much I try.

#brokeback mountain #writing #lgbtqia #very much interested in writing again so please expect some more (and new) pieces from me soon #film review #heath ledger #jake gyllenhaal

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trollcafe · 1 year

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In Which Abel Forgives, and Cain Forgets

Google Doc Ver

You have no idea why you went out there. That old rotting barn had been left to decay for sweeps, you’d barely even given it the time of day. It had faded into the background. Just another aspect of life out in isolation. Something called you to it, an itch in the back of your brain that you needed to scratch. It had been a bad day, but most days lately were bad.

Funny, isn’t it? You almost give a bitter laugh as you trudge through the long grass, making a beeline for that old, rotted barn. You barely remember being in the hospital when you lost your arms, but you remembered the doctor’s smile, his laugh, so bright, so painfully shrill. He assured you that the best option was amputation. It was painless, he swore. There was nothing but pain. It had been nothing but agony since you woke up from surgery. Even on the days the pain was minimal, you were left with a clouded mind and a lost dream. Everything fucking hurt. It was so bitterly difficult to be the happy-go-lucky, carefree, nonchalant person that everyone expected you to be, when it felt like your skin was on fire, the nerves in limbs that no longer existed screaming under skin that wasn’t there. Phantom pain was supposed to go away after the first few weeks, the doctor promised.

Well, it’d been sweeps now. Lucky you, huh?

The worst part was the consistent brain fog. You floated through life in a persistent haze. You stand in the wide open barn, confused how you got there. You glance over your shoulder- how did you open the barn door? Wasn’t it locked? These questions weren’t an uncommon occurrence. Did you eat? Did you take your meds? Did you lock the door? How did you get here? Where are your shoes? It felt like you lived in the moment but moments were far and few between. You knew it was wrong. You were cognizant enough to notice. You knew it hadn’t always been that way, but were you so certain? It frustrated you. It just gets worse, and worse, and worse, with each passing day. You blink. You shake your head. It clears enough for you to look at the space in front of you. You forget the questions, forget the frustration, and are back in the moment. In the stuffy decaying barn, wondering why the place felt so familiar.

Moonlight flitted in from holes in the wood. Dust danced in the serene air, the only movement the sorry place had seen in sweeps. You step forward cautiously. The space was wide and open, save for a tool bench and some sort of vehicle under a car cover. To the side, a wooden ladder leading up to the second floor, where the railing was damaged. You look around cautiously, feeling something start to spark from the edge of your mind.

I always thought the trope of people getting headaches when repressed memories surfaced to be a little too dramatic. That wasn’t reality. Maybe to some, sure, but not to you. You could feel the memories prick at the edges of your mind, dancing along the haze, wanting so desperately to be freed. If anything they made the fog thicken. Things became harder to find but the itch was growing ever more unbearable. You stagger towards the tool bench, just for something to lean against. There were yellowed photographs haphazardly taped onto the backsplash. Faces you recognized, that you’ve never seen a day in your life. They increase the mental static to an unbearable level. You’ve seen that limeblood before, you know it. You have no idea who that is. He was smiling at you, holding your younger self in a big hug. How could you not remember someone you so very clearly loved at one point?

Your body felt heavy. Too heavy to be your own. A significant amount of it wasn’t anymore, arms and legs replaced with bulky awkward metal. Your shoulders ache with the deep-rooted exhaustion of carrying the weight. Your eyes drift to your arms. In that moment you were convinced the doctor who took your arms, with his pristine smile, did so not because of the damage but the scars that lined your skin. He took the only coping methods worth a damn, the only things that cleared the clouds: making music, and making more scars. The clouds in your brain turn red with momentary fury. You’ve never hated anyone more, how he made the haze so thick and took away the one thing that ever got rid of it. You could barely remember to eat most days, but you’d never forget how much you hated that man.

Footsteps above you makes the anger dissipate in an instant. You blink away enough haze to turn your gaze upwards. Even squinting, you struggle to see them. The moonlight behind their thin frame makes the stranger appear like an ethereal being.

“...hey?” You call out cautiously.

==> Your name is now Festur Canuis, and you just wanted to grab some of your things.

You heard the barn door open. That alone was terrifying, nobody should be coming in this terrifying place! You really didn’t care if the wood under your feet caved in and you fell. You plummeted to your death once, what’s a second time, right? Naturally, you waited what felt like several moments to hope and pray that whoever entered would leave before you saw them. After nothing but silence, you finally step out of the room you had hidden in, and into the open of the balcony. You make your way to the damaged railing, looking down.

You lock eyes with the one and only Riptid Canuis.

Your blood runs cold. Or maybe it's just another chill. You’ve had some temperature regulation issues since being revived again. The last person you expected to see standing in your decrepit old barn was him. In an instant, you were seventeen again, leaning over the railing to see his small frame sheepishly peering in from the open barn door, afraid to come in. He was so small back then. In the moment, he dwarfed the room around him.

“What’re you doing here?” You ask, voice firm but soft. He blinks, tilting his head slightly to the side, as if contemplating what you said. The moonlight behind you flows down to highlight the features of his face. When did he get so old?

“I…I don’t…know.” Finally, Riptid breaks eye contact, looking back down at his hands. Smooth black metal hands resting on the rusted surface of the tool bench, bracing himself for something unbeknownst to you.

Concern fills your lungs, begging you to act. You watch him cautiously, hesitantly. You should be more careful, you shouldn’t engage more. You might trigger his memories to come back. He didn’t need that. He was distressed enough as is. Even with all these thoughts and more swimming around your brain, it’s nearly impossible to sit still. It finally registers with you that he’s…not all there. That’s even more concerning.

“You okay, Bubs?” The old nickname rolled off your tongue thick with worry. You couldn’t help it. It was Riptid, you couldn’t just let him suffer. He had the same sorrowful sad look he wore as a child. You watched him grow up as a ghost but never really got to see the full extent of it, the damage your powers had done.

He was silent for a long time. Thinking, maybe. Processing. You contemplated asking again, maybe he hadn’t heard you. Maybe the nickname confused him. You study him closely as he studies his hands. As the gears try and fail to turn.

“…I…” He finally starts, “..I don’t know…” His voice cracks. And with it, your heart. Any hesitation melted instantly. You move quickly, descending the wooden ladder with a little too much confidence. Riptid looks up with a jolt as you get closer. Startled, as if he had already forgotten you were there. You freeze.

You lock eyes again. His sad blue ones light up with recognition.

“…I know you!” Your heart breaks a second time with how confident, how relieved, how exhausted he sounded. You don’t respond, simply waiting. After a few beats, he deflates. “…I…I don’t know you.”

His eyes trail back down, glossing over. If only you knew. If only you could see inside his mind, see the smog that covered his thoughts. Thick and black and toxic, covering everything that tried so hard to rise up. His head felt heavy, full. Ready to explode. Like a stone sinking in a rushing river. His shoulders ached, his back ached, his hips ached worse of all. Was the pain making it worse? Or maybe it was the only thing keeping him grounded, he didn’t know. It wasn’t the pain he used to use. It didn’t ground him right. He shook his head again, as if trying to clear the haze.

“Bub..?” You’re almost hesitant to say his name, say anything more.

A hand moves up to hold his head. If you didn’t know better, you’d say the repressed memories fighting the mental fog was giving him a migraine. But that wasn’t how it worked. You knew this well. You were, after all, the expert in memories. In handling them, in dealing them out, in altering them, or better yet, deleting them. Your worry only grows as his face scrunches into something of agony. You start to reach out to him.

“...Make it stop.” His words are almost a growl, spit between gritted teeth and barred fangs. It wasn’t a demand. Riptid didn’t know who you were, why you were here, why you had the same horns, how you knew his name. He didn’t know you erased his memories, deleting yourself from the picture. But somehow, underneath it all, he knew he could seek comfort from you.

“Oh, buddy..” You sigh, finally resting a hand on his upper arm, “Let’s get you inside.”

He nods, but doesn’t open his eyes as he reaches his other hand out to you. You only hesitate for a second before grabbing his hand. This seems to relax him slightly. With a small sigh, you begin to lead him out of the barn, back through the tall grass, towards the place you once called hive.

#drabbles #ghost.art #festur canuis #riptid canuis

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butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway · 10 months

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Hey, so about your post where you were talking about "how do we improve mental health systems"?

First off, I'll be honest, just didn't have the brainpower to parse this many words today, but I support the general ideas I was picking up with it. Cause like, when I was 18 and in college I talked to someone about being suicidal, and I ended up in in patient but... well two things

One is when I was having the intake I happened to say that my mom was a bitch, and the lady doing the intake I hear talking on her radio saying that she has someone possibly violent, so I just changed my whole tune and became the model patient for the rest of the weekend

The second is that while everyone else there was awesome, man would I never go back into in patient. It's bad for me, it's just dead time. I can't work on anything or play or anything meaningful, and there's a total loss of freedom to set your schedule and stuff. They were great there, a real high quality facility... it would be better if I killed myself than went back

So even if I couldn't really read the whole thing, I think I like the direction you're aiming for

You asked what people wanted to see, and it seemed like it wasn't just about medical professionals, but also the ideas around community, so maybe this fits

All I want is when I talk about not doing well that people maybe... talk with me instead of just being like "I hope you can get some professional help", cause I've had a lot of professional help over the years, and I think pretty much all of them would rather I have some peers instead, cause in my case a lot of my problems are my extreme isolation

Like... I'm not saying it would cure me, but just... you know... having someone tell me why they like me... you know... ever, that might help

Cause... people act like they like me, even say they like me, and I have no choice but to trust them... but... hmm, not the place to dump a whole life story, but there's stuff that's probably pretty textbook childhood neglect, a lot of having to be my mom's parent, that sort of thing... and it just leaves me feeling totally worthless

I don't see a single scrap of value to me, and it's not like I could internalize it, but... man... if people instead of telling me to go get professional help told me reasons why they'd miss me, that would help a lot more

So to summarize, I guess what I'd like to see from community is diminishing this fear that'll we'll break people if we say the wrong thing, and instead just telling people around us that we like them and why

Like, I find that just hitting people around me with simple "I'm proud of you, you're doing a good job" even tends to have a real good effect cause... most people are starving for that kind of validation cause no one ever says it to anyone

I don't know... those are my thoughts. Hopefully they're not too scattered. Hopefully they're not too off topic

Hope you have a good day

Tw: suicide

I think this really does touch on why a lot of suicide prevention why have in place now is insufficient. It deals with the crisis of "I have a plan and intent now" by quarantining people in a supervised place until that passes - which in and of itself isn't necessarily a bad thing if done consensually and in ways that involve real care, real support, and real activity for the person involved, but can be detrimental if experienced as it often happens and as you describe.

If instead we were able to meet suicidal people's chronically unmet needs in the community, however, there might be far less need to ever have this kind of crisis intervention, and it might be able to be transformed into a very different experience since it would have such a limited use case.

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coralcatsea · 2 years

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PrUK Frozen-inspired AU

You know the older versions of Frozen where Elsa was more rude, selfish, and morally grey instead of /just/ scared? And how there was a prophecy that someone with ice powers would set off an eternal winter? There's a deleted song where after Anna comes to visit her she invites her to stay in the ice castle, but Anna thinks that Elsa should go back and fix winter so things can just go back to the way they were even though Elsa still feels suppressed living in her kingdom.

For a childhood friends instead of siblings version with Arthur and Gilbert, I could see these older elements being a part of it.

I wrote a whole plot outline for this. 😅

Prince Arthur always felt too much pressure to be a perfect gentleman and hide his wilder tendencies due to royal expectations and a looming prophecy that cast suspicion on him due to his secretive behaviour, while Gilbert (maybe a nobleman?) tried but could never gain the kingdom's favour due to prejudice over his appearance.

They gravitated towards each other as children and became close, but one day, when they were playing privately, Arthur struck Gilbert with an ice blast by accident. His parents came into the room and saw what he had done, and not wanting Gilbert's parents to find out, they hurriedly rushed him to a forest of spirits that would be able to help.

The spirits were mischievous, however, and after healing Gilbert, they erased Gilbert's memory and intentionally used disturbing illusions to show Arthur what would happen if he let his magic spiral out of control due to fear.

Arthur isolated himself because he knew his power was growing and he couldn't bear the thought of hurting Gilbert permanently. What was worse, he was always tempted to experiment more with his power, but he had a feeling that once he did, he wouldn't be able to resist the thrill of it. He couldn't let himself become the one in the prophecy.

As Arthur became more distant to Gilbert, even more so after his parents died, Gilbert wasn't sure what to do. His own parents had ended up passing away as well on the same voyage that sunk in the storm, and Arthur was really the only person he had to turn to. He wished they could lean on each other for support, but Arthur wouldn't let him in anymore.

Then came Arthur's coronation, the first time Arthur would show himself to the public in years. Gilbert wanted to take the chance to speak to him again, and he managed to approach when Arthur was greeting guests. Things went decently at first, until Gilbert started questioning him in regard to why he been shut out. Arthur wouldn't answer him and attempted to leave, but Gilbert kept pushing until he was met with an outburst from Arthur that resulted in several spikes of ice forming around him defensively. Seeing the horrified reactions of the guests and even hearing one duke call him a monster, he fled to the farthest reach of the kingdom and built himself a fortress, but accidentally started an endless winter in the process.

Concerned about Arthur and wanting to make the kingdom accept him, Gilbert offers to make the journey to find Arthur and convince him to come back and fix things.

Arthur, now thinking he's got a better hold of his powers after having the chance to use them in such a big open space, is at first delighted to see Gilbert and invites him to live there with him, figuring Gilbert wouldn't have anything to lose since the kingdom never cared about him anyway.

Instead, he finds out that Gilbert wants him to come back for the kingdom and fix everything, thinking things will be fine now that he knows Arthur's secret and can support him. Arthur takes this the wrong way, thinking Gilbert doesn't care about how he feels and just wants to put him back in a role where he feels trapped for the sake of helping people that never helped them.

Arthur expresses that he can't just keep trying to please everyone when he doesn't even know how, and besides, why should he? They never had faith in him anyway! They all suspected he was the prophecy from the start, and perhaps that truly is what he was always destined to be. Distracted by his overwhelming frustration, Arthur fails to notice when ice shoots out of him and hits Gilbert in the heart. He then creates a snow monster to escort him out.

Gilbert stumbles upon the forest spirits, who tell him that since his heart has been struck, only an act of true love can break the curse. Well. Gilbert has no idea how that's supposed to work when the only living person who ever cared about him is the one who cursed him. He goes back to the village and relays the bad news that Arthur doesn't know how to reverse the curse. Gilbert sees how the townspeople are suffering and when one of the children asks, "Will everything be frozen for the rest of the king's life?" Gilbert decides what must be done.

Killing the king to save the kingdom...that's an act of true love, right? Gilbert offers to end the king and the winter along with him, which the crowd agrees to easily since they don't care what happens to him. They do, however, wonder if Gilbert would really be successful considering he used to be Arthur's friend, so they secretly send another man to see that the job gets done.

Gilbert goes to confront Arthur. If ending his old friend's life doesn't break his curse, then at least they'll both die together. The kingdom would probably be happier without them, anyway. He draws his sword and begins to fight Arthur, who mostly holds back and shields himself with ice since he doesn't want to hurt Gilbert. Eventually, Gilbert manages to corner Arthur and raises his sword, but he can't seem to bring himself to swing. When the back up man realises Gilbert won't be able to do it, he sends an arrow for Arthur's heart – and Gilbert instinctively jumps in the way, turning to ice in that very moment. The force of the spell completing causes the man to fly backwards, and the arrow bounces off Gilbert's icy body.

Arthur realises that he must have done this to Gilbert and recoils in grief and horror at the ice statue of his friend now decorating his castle. He doesn't want to live here and see this every day as a permanent reminder of the tragedy he's caused, but he knows he deserves it and frankly, he can't bring himself to leave Gilbert here like this. He drags Gilbert over to stand beside his throne of ice, because in spite of their recent disagreement, he's still the one who tried to stand by him all those years.

Because I want to be mean to Arthur, I'm going to say it takes a little while for Gilbert to actually melt so Arthur has more time to reflect, but Gilbert eventually does indeed melt and tells Arthur that his sacrifice must have counted as an act of true love and returned him to his original form. Arthur makes the conclusion that this happened because love is a warm feeling and will melt away any of his magic ice and snow. With his love for Gilbert in mind, he tries his theory on the endless winter and it works. The two of them return to the kingdom and everyone soon finds out what kind of amazing and useful things Arthur can do for the kingdom with his power now that he understands it, and Gilbert returns as a hero for being the reason Arthur understands.

They begin spending their days together again and after some time Arthur proposes, Gilbert accepts, and gets to remain by Arthur's throne as flesh and blood, not ice.

✨ HAPPY END ✨

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