#run away and lead a life without consequence // interactions

[itsncthingpersonal]

LOCATION: Endlebridge, in an alleyway somewhere

"Fuck!... really?" A white-hot flash of pain exploded across the bridge of his nose as his Ray-Bans were violently punched off his face, sending them skidding across the ground. He just knew those lenses were scratched without looking. The absence of them revealed a set of murky yellow eyes ringed in red, stark against the dark of the alleyway. "Not cool, man! Those were expensive...." It hit him hard, trying and failing to hide the misery in his voice. He had worked multiple shifts at the bar to buy them back in '79, and they were part of his everyday outfit as a permanent accessory. His dad had called them a stupid purchase; a complete waste of money and extremely tacky. But Rudy felt proud to own something new, not second hand, for once. Now they were gone in a flash.

The brief distraction was enough for his assailant to grab the lapels of his leather jacket, bunching the material up in their hands and forcefully drag him sideways. As he tried to dig his boots into the ground, the clumsy movement only caused him to stumble and they ended up toppling over together. Everything was a blur for a few seconds, the world turned upside down as they landed in a heap upon solid concrete. Without hesitating, Rudy thrashed hard until he was able to overpower them, straddling their waist with his entire body weight. His arm twisted over his shoulder to scrabble for his baseball bat attached to a holster, yanking it out quickly. With two hands, it was held above his head and poised to strike down upon the hunter with as much force as he was punched, but he suddenly faltered and glanced up.

At the mouth of the alleyway, somebody was watching them.

"Hey!" Rudy alerted, hoping that they left. He didn't want anybody else getting involved. "You should lea-ugh." He could smell the burning flesh first, before a wave of pain washed down his stomach where a silver blade neatly sliced across his abdomen. Not once, but twice. He really needed to concentrate, but he was never very good at that. His white tank top slowly began changing to a dark red as the blood seeped through the torn material. Shit. Pushing himself to stand, Rudy stepped back and seemed to retreat, watching as the hunter rose in unison. "Bit rude, mate..." There was a loud, sickening thump as his baseball bat connected with their jaw before they could even blink, dropping them to the ground like a sack of bricks. After taking a moment to watch the rise and fall of their chest, unconscious but not dead, Rudy hopped over them and began walking towards the witness.

Well...not quite. Any straight lines gradually changed to unsteady zigzags as the silver did more damage than he thought, forcing the vampire to unceremoniously fall against a nearby brick wall. His grip on the baseball bat loosened, and it clattered besides his boots. His abdomen felt like it was on fire, spreading outwards, and he clapped a hand over the wounds with a hiss. First his Ray-Bans, now this.

@pushspacetocontinue

[itsncthingpersonal]

Rudy tried to maintain his composure as the werewolf suddenly sprang forward, chasing after the thrown baseball, but he still flinched. To his credit, anybody would. A massive beast such as this moving quickly and unpredictably, having caused a relentless massacre earlier, would set even the hardiest person on edge. But whatever tension in his body gradually melted into relief for choosing the correct action, watching as a blur of fur and powerful muscles easily bypassed the balcony and landed below with a resounding thud. There was a continuous scraping noise somewhere on the ground level, sharp claws tap-tap-tapping against concrete, and for a brief moment, he was reminded of an excitable dog attempting to run down a hardwood floor hallway but finding no purchase.

His musings were confirmed as he made his way back over to the balcony, staring downwards and witnessing the werewolf chasing after an object that kept moving away. The baseball was far too small for such large claws, pinging from underneath them and rolling a few metres, before the beast attempted to grasp it once more. The top corner of Rudy's lip twitched into a smirk, trying to prevent a laugh from bubbling up to the surface, but a snort of amusement slipped past, his hand flying up to cover his mouth immediately. He was terrible at being serious when it mattered. But here he was, playing fetch with a werewolf; he couldn't even make this shit up! Watching as the baseball was constantly batted with rough pads, the only thought that went through his mind was how lucky he was earlier, narrowly avoiding it being his head underneath them, instead.

Weirdly enough...he quite liked his head firmly attached to his neck.

Committing to utter stupidity, or bravery, Rudy decided to leave the balcony and take the metal staircase with slow steps. If the werewolf kept jumping up onto the balcony, those bolts were only going to hold on for so long before giving way, its mass far too heavy for a foundation decades old. And he wanted to keep his home intact. So he approached the beast carefully, maintaining an air of reassurance by keeping each movement steady; nothing too sudden that might startle him into another bout of violence. There was enough blood shed already, the vampire trailing boot imprints across the floor as he stepped through puddles of it (careful not to slip this time), stopping only when the werewolf returned to him with the successfully procured baseball.

"Again? Okay, you got it..." He was not about to argue, scooping up the baseball once more and tossing it somewhere across the factory. It carried on like this for some time, occupying the beast with an item from his past, the thread becoming thinner and its shape starting to warp. Rudy had no sentimental feelings for the stupid baseball, reminding him of what that bastard put him through, so really, he was grateful for the werewolf destroying it. He was tempted to retrieve the others from his Ford Escort and let him tear those apart, as well. But instead, they remained locked in a game of back and forth, seemingly sharing an understanding without words. After a while, it was paused whilst his unexpected playmate decided to satiate another wave of hunger by snacking on the littered corpses, pulling apart skin and sinew with ease.

Rudy had fed already, but witnessing the way in which the werewolf consumed each body was enough to stop any appetite he might have had. He was a clean eater, anaesthetic saliva and razor-sharp fangs preventing any mess during and after a feeding, so it was a grotesque sight. But the vampire understood that different creatures had different needs, so no judgement was given. He still decided to turn away whilst the scene unfolded, using the excuse of privacy, but in actuality, Rudy wanted to avoid seeing this in his dreams today. If he ever got to sleep, that was. He had a feeling that this was going to be an all-dayer, because there was an unending buzz underneath his skin, sending his brain into complete overdrive. Wired to the max!

And then it was over. With a flop and huff, the werewolf was curled up and sleeping amongst his victims, leaving the vampire to comprehend what happened for the next few hours. Standing there, covered in blood and dried snot, Rudy stared at the beast for almost half an hour, trying to make a decision on what to do. There was nothing he could do that would make this situation any easier, and in the end, he chose the option that seemed less trouble; accepting everything and simply cracking on with it. It was what he did best. No point in fretting! The damage was over and done with, his factory was covered in blood and gore (including the bedsheets upstairs), and there was a gigantic beast currently taking a well-deserved nap on the floor. He could handle this.

Nope!

"BOLLOCKS!" Rudy shouted to the ceiling with enough gusto to make a vein pop on the side of his neck, hands flying up in a gesture of incredulity. That was over an hour ago. After the initial outburst, the vampire managed to compose himself enough to find other things to keep busy with whilst the werewolf slept, already deciding against waking him up. To do so was a sure-fire way of getting himself killed. Even Rudy hated being rudely awoken, so he allowed the other to rest after his rampage. Was he being too soft? This man had essentially broken in his home and wrecked the joint, yet here the vampire was, accommodating him like an old friend. All he could do was laugh deliriously, but the very first thing he did was have a shower (a very thorough one), using the facilities for the previous workers of this factory, scrubbing his skin roughly to get rid of the blood and snot. Blood he could deal with, obviously...but dried snot? He gagged at every crusty bit that was washed away with cold water.

With a fresh set of clothes on, leaving his curls to dry naturally, Rudy tried to relax but he ended up pacing the factory multiple times. He checked on the werewolf every now and again, simply watching the rise and fall of his chest, before resuming his impromptu exercise. When there was a shift in breathing, the vampire was by his side immediately, wondering why it changed. But the answer was given in the reappearance of a familiar form, beast switching back to his original self, and Rudy waited for a reaction. All he did was continue sleeping, despite every bone in his body cracking back into place to create a regular human shape. He must be used to it, but the vampire had never seen something like that before, and a slight grimace crossed over his face in sympathy for how uncomfortable it probably felt.

He needed to wake him up.

"Hey...Gabriel, was it?" Hovering over the other, Rudy chewed on his bottom lip and flexed his hands, greeted with nothing but silence. This was awkward. Glancing around the factory as though people were witnessing them, the vampire cleared his throat and opted for another approach. Dropping into a crouch, he huffed before holding his hands in front of the other's face, before rapidly clapping loudly and continuously. "RISE AND SHINE, MOONBEAM." He yelled, wasting no more time. He wanted answers.

The stranger was either a fool, or the bravest vampire to grace a werewolf in over a millennia. The beast growled still, but attention was focused on the item that had been picked up. Despite having the novelty of it, this didn't rid them of the danger that loomed at one wrong move.

It was strange, how the towering beast simply stood there, far beyond curious, perhaps entranced by the baseball as an arm coils back to throw it. Is it going to move? The body suddenly tenses and gears up, this seems to be the right call..

Off it goes, and so too does the werewolf as it bounds over the railing and back to the ground with loud thud. Sharp claws scrape the concrete as the beast scrambles to get a hold of its tiny round shape. Too difficult to grasp with large hands, no, it is as a dog would, and that was by mouth.

There's some scuffling around, but eventually, the werewolf returns with ball in muzzle and.. it's dropped by the same man who'd thrown it just moments ago. A tooth stuck out as the beast appeared to snarl a little, but interest was lost in favor of ball throwing. But therein lied the problem, the stranger had no choice but to throw it, or see what would happen if he hadn't. And so if the ball is thrown again, after it the beast would go, sometimes the ball hitting a corpse rather than the ground.

It made no difference, the stranger had found themselves in an unwilling game of fetch with a monster. On the umpteen return of the ball, the beast sits onto its bottom and scratches behind the ear with a hind leg, appearing to scratch for a good minute or two. The ball isn't released however, it would be lodged between teeth with clear signs of damage, and on the verge of being destroyed. It is only after he's finished scratching does the ball drop from the mouth and over to company.... again.

The game would have to continue until the seams of the baseball fell apart from age and werewolf excitable chewing. It was strange, as a beast, Gabriel raged endlessly, blinded by insatiable hunger and need to destroy and leave naught but carnage in his wake. Yet, somehow, a ball seems to be the reprieve in the endless cycle of nightmares that the fledgling werewolf had no control over.

When the ball was dropped in shambles, a low pitched guttural whine would gurgle. Within minutes interest is lost, and instead, returns to one of many bodies that line the inside of the warehouse to eat. Each corpse having the heart at bare minimum consumed. It was gory, and grotesque, but it was the beasts reality. After eating for who knows how long, all was finally, quiet.

If company ever did look over the railing, the large hairy mound would be curled up by deceased victims. Perhaps seeking warmth, perhaps it was symbolic? It was left up to interpretation, maybe company would ask in the morning..

It took several hours, but eventually loud breathing from the beast grew silent as the mound slowly shrank in size. Bones shifted and cracked back into place while fur shed at a rapid rate until naught was left but a naked man, dead asleep, against the victims he'd mutilated. Gabriel, was in for a rude awakening..

[violetjedisylveon]

hi, for rotten fruit au, so i got it that when mac and wukong meet again macaque is still with the lbd. But i got confused on how they managed to get her arrested/got rid of her, like its after chao xing and her other father appear right? So with their help they get all the proves to go against her and mac get the courage to say fuck you to her when she try to harm his family?

Also i picture lbd kept mac hair short to make him look more perfect and clean, after she is gone he let them grow long like in the past before wukong went to jail.

previous, next

LBD finds out about Wukong interacting with her son and grandchildren (unwillingly on his part, they just keep showing up), soon after he and Macaque meet again and she starts making plans to get rid of him. Mayor spied and snitched to her.

And around the time she's getting ready to enact those plans ready is when Wukong's family comes to reconnect with him, and she immediately recognizes her son's ex partner and her granddaughter (Chao-Xing's got two tails as a genetic quirk so she's very easy to recognize).

LBD quickly starts to make new plans that would allow her to get her wayward grandchild under her control, while she accepted the decision to split the twins, she wasn't happy about it in the long run since she quickly viewed MK as a failure and thinks it might have been better to take the one she didn't want.

Chao-Xing was deformed in her eyes, too small and with the extra tail, so at the time of the decision, she was perfectly fine with letting the little freak go. She's come to realize she was wrong.

While she's making Wukong's life even harder, she's plotting behind the scenes to kidnap her granddaughter from her family, and mold her into the perfect heir. Bai He has always been a replaceable back up in her mind.

Monkey demons are very close knit with each other and don't tend to go anywhere without at least one other monkey, so it proves to be very hard to get her granddaughter sufficiently isolated to abduct her. LBD moves to a backup plan of sending a hitman after the family to get rid of them, if Chao-Xing's parents die custody would be given back to Macaque because she's still a minor.

This is where LBD gets her comeuppance, she believes herself to be untouchable, especially with how she's so easily been able to manipulate things in Wukong's life to make things harder for him or just to spite him and show that Macaque is under her control no matter what he does. One of her manipulations is what leads to Wukong seeing Mayor and Macaque in their act as "husbands" that I mentioned in this (long) post.

it's a classic moment of hubris.

She still thinks she has Macaque completely under her thumb, but she is sorely mistake.

It's a combination of her threatening his family, hurting Wukong again, and finally reaching a breaking point that he didn't know he had that convinces Macaque to say "fuck it" to the potential consequences and stand up against her. He's finally more angry than he is afraid of her.

And an anonymously provided pile of evidence detailing all of her crimes certainly helps put the final nails in her coffin.

LBD's abuse of Macaque, hurting him until he agreed to give a false testimony against Wukong, her generally abusive behavior towards him, fucking sexually trafficking him around certain circles (though the names of to who are left conspicuously absent), her making up charges against Wukong with no evidence and bribing the legal system to get him the worst punishment that wouldn't kill him, her current efforts to ruin his life, her abuse of her grandchildren, her attempts to kidnap a minor, and to kill a family, and her less than legal manipulations in other areas, all of it is there.

LBD had always been sloppy in covering her trail, it was easy to find and compile if you knew where to look, she thought she was so far above everyone else that she never bothered to actually check if there was anyone above her.

So she's cooked and being put away for a long time.

It's just a shame Snake Boi didn't have nobel intentions in turning all that evidence over 😔

There's a very substantial debt to be paid now, and he's not eager to make that happen fast, not when he gets so many new toys to play with.

Xiuying also has no issues with testifying about LBD's crimes, so that does help too.

LBD's fall is swift and cruel.

Yes, Macaque does have short hair with LBD, she keeps his appearance strictly controlled, he had grown his hair out to an improper length while with Wukong as teenagers.

LBD made him cut it before delivering his testimony of her made up crimes with Wukong still in the court room, it makes things easier too, less hair to clean up and manage.

He gets to let it grow as long as he wants when she's locked up! And he dyes his grays pink to match Wukong's!

He's got an insanely stressful life and has streaks of grays by his 30s, LBD made him dye his whole body to cover for it, she made him dye it lighter so he would look younger too.

Now he gets to go back to his natural color and dye his grays a fun color with his mate! They help each other touch up their roots when they grow out!

Thanks for asking! This was so much fun to talk about!

This is the last thing I'll answer for the time being, I am very sleepy

[resultschoice]

The Importance of Learning and Self Care

Learning and self care are vitally important. They help a person feel happy and healthy, both physically and emotionally.

It can be hard to think of yourself as “selfish” if you choose to prioritize your own happiness or wellness over something someone else may want or need. However, it’s important to remember that putting yourself first is good for everyone!

Investing in Continuous Learning

Continuing education is a must for anyone looking to stay competitive and drive innovation. It can take many forms, from enrolling in professional development courses to reading industry blogs and research articles.

Learning doesn’t just help employees grow professionally; it can also boost their self-esteem. When employees feel like they have the skills needed to handle challenging projects, they become more confident and motivated at work. This can lead to higher levels of job satisfaction and better teamwork.

Companies can support continuous learning by offering professional development opportunities, such as webinars, online courses, and self-guided workshops. They can also embed learning into daily workflows to help employees improve their performance without taking time away from essential tasks. In addition, they can offer flexible scheduling and remote work options to help employees balance their responsibilities and commitments.

Mental Stimulation

Mental stimulation, or cognitive activity, keeps the brain healthy, improves memory and reduces risk of dementia. Activities such as reading, learning a new skill, puzzles, and socializing can boost brainpower, reduce stress and anxiety, and promote a positive outlook.

Oftentimes, mentally stimulating activities are best done in a group setting to encourage social interaction and prevent isolation. In fact, studies have shown that children who do not receive enough mental stimulation in their early years are predisposed to learning, attention and behaviour difficulties throughout their lives.

As a carer, encouraging your loved ones to participate in mental stimulating activities can have a huge impact on their overall well-being and quality of life. Moreover, it will reduce their stress levels and increase the likelihood that they will continue to participate in these activities into the future. As such, it is an important component of self-care for seniors.

Taking Care of Your Physical Well-Being

A regular self care routine can help manage and alleviate stress. It can include things like a healthy diet, exercise, balancing emotional and spiritual health practices and reflecting on personal values and goals.

The body and mind are connected, so physical well-being is a vital component of self-care. A healthy lifestyle can also help prevent future health issues and improve healing.

For example, a consistent sleep schedule promotes a healthy brain. It also reduces the risk of heart disease and diabetes, boosts energy levels and supports mental clarity. Exercise can reduce inflammation, decrease stress levels and encourage more consistent moods. Self-care can also include hobbies and other activities that stimulate the brain, such as reading or engaging in creative pursuits. Taking time to nurture social connections can support emotional and spiritual well-being, too. These can range from volunteering with strangers to simply enjoying a group activity with friends.

Prioritizing Self-Care

When students, teachers, and family members feel like they have enough on their plates, it’s easy to let self care fall by the wayside. But this is a mistake. In the long run, neglecting one’s own mental and emotional health can have devastating consequences.

Prioritizing self-care nurtures physical, mental, and social well-being and provides a solid foundation for a fulfilling life. Self-care can take many forms, from nourishing the body through healthy eating and exercise to developing effective coping skills and fostering strong social connections.

It may also involve setting boundaries and learning to say “no” when needed, especially if there are significant family or work obligations to meet. When people begin to make their own wellness a priority, they become better equipped to cope with challenges and remain resilient even when faced with difficult situations.

[raghav26]

Breaking Free from Impulsivity: ADHD Therapy in Gurgaon

What is Impulsivity?

Impulsivity refers to acting without considering the outcome, and it is one of the most prevalent symptoms of ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder). Most children face impulsivity, which impacts their academic performance, relationships, and everyday life. If not treated, it may result in frustration and problems with social interactions. Thankfully, ADHD Therapy in Gurgaon offers efficient strategies to enable children to gain self-control and make sounder choices.

How Does Impulsivity Look in Daily Life?

Children with impulsivity may: ✅ Interrupt others while talking. ✅ Speak or act without thinking about the situation. ✅ Struggle to wait for their turn in games or conversations. ✅ Make quick decisions that might lead to mistakes. ✅ Have emotional outbursts when frustrated.

For example, a child with impulsivity might blurt out an answer in class before the teacher finishes the question or run across the road without checking for cars. These behaviors are not intentional but happen because the child finds it difficult to control their actions.

Short Story: Ansh’s Journey to Overcoming Impulsivity

Ansh, an 8-year-old boy from Gurgaon, was hyperactive. But being impulsive all the time caused him trouble. He would talk over others, take things away without permission, and have trouble waiting for his turn during group activities in class. His teachers complained, and his parents fretted all the time.

One day, Ansh crossed the road in a hurry without seeing, and he was almost hit by a vehicle. His parents were frightened by this, and they chose to consult experts. They discovered Lyfsmile, where they met Mrs. Ritika Dhall, a seasoned psychologist who deals in Child ADHD Therapy in Gurgaon.

With regular therapy sessions, Ansh learned how to control himself, how to slow down before he reacted, and how to cope with his feelings better. The parents were also taught how they could assist him at home. In a short while, there was improvement in Ansh's behavior, and he was a more patient individual who knew how to observe .

This transformation wouldn’t have been possible without the right therapy and support.

How ADHD Therapy Helps Manage Impulsivity

Effective ADHD Therapy in Gurgaon can help children develop self-control and make better decisions. Therapists use various techniques, including:

1. Behavioral Therapy

Encourages positive behavior and self-regulation.

Uses rewards and consequences to teach patience.

2. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT)

Helps children recognize impulsive thoughts.

Teaches strategies to pause and think before acting.

3. Parent Training and Support

Helps parents reinforce positive behaviors at home.

Provides techniques to handle impulsive reactions calmly.

4. Social Skills Training

Teaches children how to interact with others patiently.

Improves emotional control and decision-making.

How Lyfsmile Can Help

At Lyfsmile one of the best psychologists in Gurgaon, has years of experience in helping children manage ADHD and impulsivity. They provides:

✅ Personalized therapy plans tailored to each child’s needs. ✅ One-on-one counseling sessions to develop better self-control. ✅ Guidance for parents to create a supportive home environment. ✅ Proven techniques that show results in behavior improvement.

With the right therapy and support, your child can overcome impulsivity and thrive in school, social life, and daily activities.

Conclusion

Impulsivity can prove to be troublesome for kids with ADHD, but the correct therapy can make all the difference. Under the right guidance from professionals such as Mrs. Ritika Dhall of Lyfsmile, children can learn to be patient, control their impulsive behavior, and become better individuals overall.

If you’re looking for the best Child ADHD Therapy in Gurgaon, Lyfsmile is here to help. Take the first step towards a better future for your child today!

FAQs

1. How do I know if my child has impulsivity issues?

If your child interrupts conversations, struggles to wait their turn, acts without thinking, or frequently makes impulsive decisions, they may have impulsivity issues related to ADHD. Consulting a psychologist can help determine the best approach.

2. Can ADHD therapy really help with impulsivity?

Yes! Behavioral therapy, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), and social skills training help children learn self-control, patience, and decision-making skills. With proper therapy, impulsivity can be managed effectively.

3. How long does it take for ADHD therapy to show results?

The duration varies for each child, but consistent therapy and parental support often lead to noticeable improvements within a few months. Regular sessions and practice at home are key to long-term success.

Take the First Step with Lyfsmile!

Is your child struggling with impulsivity? Looking for the right ADHD therapy in Gurgaon?

Lyfsmile offers expert support to help them develop self-control, confidence, and focus.

 Book a consultation with Lyfsmile today!

📞Phone:  +91 98047 91047

✉️Email Us: help@lyfsmile.com

🚕 Location: Gurgaon, Delhi, India

[healyouself]

Teen Screen Time: How Much Is Too Much?

Screens are everywhere—smartphones, tablets, computers, and televisions have become an integral part of our daily lives. For teens, the allure of screens can be especially strong, with social media, video games, and streaming services offering endless entertainment and connection. But how much screen time is too much for teenagers, and what impact does it have on their physical and mental health?

The Rise of Screen Time Among Teens

The average teenager spends around 7 to 9 hours a day in front of screens, excluding schoolwork. This number has surged in recent years, particularly with the increased reliance on digital tools during the pandemic. From TikTok to YouTube, teens often find themselves immersed in digital worlds that pull them away from real-life interactions.

While screens offer a convenient way to stay connected and informed, excessive screen time can have negative consequences on teens’ health. Understanding these effects is crucial for parents and teens alike in order to establish healthier screen habits.

The Physical Effects of Excessive Screen Time

Too much screen time doesn’t just affect the mind—it also has tangible physical effects:

Eye Strain and Digital Eye Syndrome Spending hours staring at a screen can lead to eye strain, dry eyes, and blurred vision. The blue light emitted from screens can also disrupt sleep patterns, leading to poor-quality sleep or insomnia. Teens are especially prone to this as they often use their devices late into the night.

Poor Posture and Musculoskeletal Problems Sitting hunched over a smartphone or laptop for long periods can lead to poor posture, which can cause neck pain, back pain, and muscle strain. In the long run, this can result in more serious musculoskeletal issues.

Sedentary Lifestyle and Weight Gain Excessive screen time is often linked to a sedentary lifestyle. When teens spend hours sitting down without physical activity, it can lead to weight gain, poor cardiovascular health, and an increased risk of obesity. Teens who are inactive are also more likely to develop other health problems later in life.

The Mental and Emotional Impact of Excessive Screen Time

While physical health is a concern, the mental and emotional toll of too much screen time can be even more profound:

Increased Anxiety and Depression Studies show that excessive screen time, especially on social media, is linked to higher rates of anxiety and depression among teens. The constant comparison to others, fear of missing out (FOMO), and exposure to cyberbullying can all contribute to these feelings.

Sleep Disruptions As mentioned earlier, screen time, particularly before bed, interferes with sleep. The blue light emitted by devices suppresses the production of melatonin, a hormone that regulates sleep. Teens who spend late nights scrolling on their phones are more likely to suffer from sleep deprivation, which negatively impacts mood, concentration, and overall mental health.

Reduced Attention Span and Cognitive Development Rapid switching between tasks, such as messaging friends while watching videos, can impair a teen's attention span and ability to focus. Long-term exposure to fast-paced media may reduce a teen’s ability to engage deeply with more complex tasks like reading or critical thinking.

Decreased Social Skills and Real-Life Interaction Excessive time spent online can lead to social isolation. While teens may feel connected through social media, they miss out on real-life interactions and the ability to build meaningful face-to-face relationships. Over time, this can hinder the development of empathy and other crucial social skills.

How Much Screen Time Is Healthy for Teens?

The American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) recommends that teenagers limit their recreational screen time to no more than 2 hours per day. However, for many families, this guideline may seem unrealistic in the face of schoolwork, social media, and entertainment needs. What’s more important is balance and mindful usage.

Guidelines for Creating Healthy Screen Habits

To promote healthier screen habits in teens, here are some actionable tips that parents and teens can implement:

Set Screen-Free Zones and Times Designate certain areas of the house, such as the dining room or bedrooms, as screen-free zones. Additionally, establish screen-free hours, especially before bedtime, to encourage face-to-face interaction and healthy sleep patterns.

Encourage Outdoor Activities Encourage teens to engage in physical activities like walking, biking, or playing sports to counterbalance their sedentary screen time. Physical activity is crucial for maintaining overall health and can also improve mood and energy levels.

Create a Daily Schedule Help your teen set a daily routine that includes time for homework, exercise, hobbies, and screen time. A well-rounded schedule ensures that screen time doesn’t dominate their day.

Promote Mindful Screen Use Encourage teens to be mindful of their screen usage. For example, rather than mindlessly scrolling through social media, encourage them to use screens purposefully, such as learning new skills through online courses or watching educational content.

Monitor and Limit Social Media Usage Since social media is a significant part of teen screen time, it's essential to set boundaries. Parents can use apps that monitor screen usage and set time limits on social platforms. Encourage open conversations about the negative effects of social media and emphasize the importance of real-life connections.

Model Healthy Screen Habits Teens are likely to emulate the behavior they see at home. Parents should model healthy screen habits by limiting their own screen time, especially during family activities or meals.

[itsncthingpersonal]

Everything seemed to move in slow motion, but it must have lasted seconds. Multiple cracks rang out as the hunter unleashed a barrage of silver bullets towards them, forgoing any accuracy in determination to find their target. It was wild and unpredictable, the vampire flinching with each sharp sound as he expected to feel white-hot flashes of pain. But nothing came. Some stray bullets embedded themselves in the tree trunk besides him, chips of bark raining down on him, but the rest had found his unexpected saviour. A cheek was grazed, whilst a front right leg was hit; a valiant sacrifice made by a complete stranger for the sake of somebody he knew nothing about. At least, that was what Rudy believed. He had no idea that a certain bartender had brought him up in conversation with this creature. What a small world! But that was hardly important right now; they were still being attacked whilst the vampire remained on the ground. This was no good. He was a sitting duck, fading into the background whilst somebody else took the brunt of his own misfortune.

Wiping away the blood from his face, caused by skidding a few metres across the rough ground, Rudy blinked away any excess mud that had collected in his eyes. He felt rough, left shoulder voicing its displeasure at being moved, but there was a newfound determination within him. Scrambling to rise, using the tree trunk as support, the vampire twisted around to face the large dog with enough time to see him absolutely wreck the hunter. There was a horrendous noise of bone hitting bone, his wide cranium colliding with a pliant set of human ribs, forcing the softer body to fling backwards and land against gravel with a heavy thud. Some graveside ornaments were destroyed in the process, fake flowers and remembrance plaques crushed under the weight of the hunter. He missed the headstones by a couple centimetres, thankfully, but it was a close one.

"Fuckin' hell," it was the only thing Rudy could think to say in the silence that followed, eyes darting between the crumpled body and his current company. Given the size of this creature, towering way above the vampire, there was no way anybody could survive a strike like that. He even found himself clutching his own chest in some strange sort of sympathy, face contorting into a grimace at the thought of numerous broken ribs and whatever internal damage was sustained. "...That's one way to do it, I suppose." As his attention finally shifted to address the other, a thank-you resting on the tip of his tongue, a faint sound pulled him back across the graveyard. It was the tell-tale signs of a heartbeat, fluttering and kicking back into a steady rhythm, belonging to their supposed dead hunter.

Rudy was on him in an instance, watching as the man attempted to grapple for his gun again, but a heavy combat boot slammed down upon the hand reaching for it. The hunter released an agonised yell, trying and failing to thrash his way to freedom, scaring off a few nearby crows perched on a tree branch; they were fascinated by the events unfolding, watching everything with beady-black eyes. But they took the new scuffle as their cue to leave. Murky-yellow eyes ringed in red stared down at the man, razor-sharp fangs dropping as he spoke. "Try it, mate." A lopsided grin graced his pale features, darkened veins underneath his skin spreading like lightning down the sides of his neck. They disappeared underneath his white tank top, but it was safe to assume that they were everywhere.

"Not so bold now, yeah?" The moment Rudy finished his sentence, a warm sensation suddenly hit the centre of his cheek, and he realised with utter disgust that the man had spat at him. "...Are you actually bein' serious? Tell me you're jokin'." Sucking on his fangs, the vampire pushed past the nausea that threatened to crawl up his throat, releasing a low noise of discomfort. As if! To make matters worse, the hunter started laughing, but that was soon cut off as Rudy dropped into a crouch over his body and sunk his fangs into his carotid artery. Like a dog with a fresh piece of meat, he latched on until there was complete silence from his tormentor. Even his blood tasted rotten, and once he tore away, the vampire spat the rest of it on the ground, making sure to land it on the grass and nowhere near the graves.

"Prick," he added, hands clenching and relaxing a couple times in a bid to steady his temper. Take it easy, Rudy! It was over and done with now. But there was still an undercurrent of frustrated energy rushing through his body, so the vampire took a moment to pace between the nearest graves, cracking each knuckle to relieve some tension. All good. Tearing off a leaf from a bush, he used it to wipe away the spit from his cheek, throwing the offensive item on the ground afterwards. Ugh. Once that was done, Rudy turned his attention back to his very patient company, releasing a void breath. Now that there was time to fully assess him, the gravity of what, exactly, he was staring at hit him. Apart from the ability to conjure up mist at will, alongside a large set of fangs and an overall menacing aura, the sheer size of him was daunting. A dog the size of a horse belonged in a nightmare, not standing an arms-width away from him, but the vampire found himself rooted to the spot without fear.

"Your leg," he pointed out with a concerned frown, watching as black mist seeped out from a wound sustained from the earlier attack. "That must hurt. You honestly didn't have to do that, yeah? He was after me, mate." But it was too late now. "...thank you, though." He didn't want to sound ungrateful. Running his fingers through dirt-clogged curls, Rudy steadily returned to a regular appearance, any evidence of vampirism disappearing within moments. "What can I do to help? Let me help, yeah?" It was the least he could do after the creature took a silver bullet for him.

@itsncthingpersonal from here

It was most likely just as well that Leofric had had the night off. He had chosen to take a long walk in his true form, just to give himself a break from being inside a human form that always felt too small.

However, it didn't take all that long before he felt a familiar disturbance in the air.

Hunter...

Thankfully from what he could gather the smell, it was only one. The bad news was that they were already pursuing a target. And so Leofric only saw one option; hunt the hunter in return.

So he sprinted towards where the feeling and the scent was coming from. He also followed the sounds of the gunshots, running through walls and cars like they weren't even there at all.

He recognised the sunglasses when he saw the young man who was being chased down, having now fallen over as he had arrived. Ray-Bans. Was this the lad William had befriended at The Falling Star?

He simply gave a doglike grunt through his muzzle on the warning of them having a gun, just to show he had heard and was acknowledging it.

That gave Leofric all the more resolve to send this hunter on his way before any actual harm was done. And the fact that they chose not to run. Leofric still stood his ground however, pulling his lips back to bare his sharp teeth, before he then leapt.

One of the silver bullets did graze his cheek, and the other got the top of his front right leg, and while it hurt terribly and caused a black mist to seep from the wound, Leofric did his absolute his best not to show any pain. Instead, he threw himself at the hunter with all his strength and might, lowering his head as he did, so they would get the full brunt of the headbutt he was intending to bash them with.

[itsncthingpersonal]

tie. for your muse to adjust an article of clothing on my muse.

VIA THE SYSTEM OF TOUCH PROMPTS // Accepting

The first voicemail consisted of pure gibberish, words spoken too quickly between bouts of laughter to be understood clearly. The second was a full rendition of Material Girl by Madonna, sung an octave higher than their usual tone...very passionately. The third started off with a sigh, followed by an unknown female voice asking whether the recipient could please come collect their sloshed friend; he was causing a scene. A location was given, somewhere in the middle of who knows where, before the resounding click indicated an end to her exasperated message. It was true; Rudy was under the influence of alcohol, but that was never where he envisioned the night heading after rocking up to a random party. He was invited by a fit bloke some time ago and, whether through sheer loneliness or impulsion, the vampire decided to forgo moping around in his factory and actually socialise.

Rudy had, and always been, a social butterfly whilst alive and loved meeting new people. There was no change, even after his death. But since losing Sally and his friends (no, family) a few years ago, most interactions erred on the side of caution, despite how comfortable and confident he acted. He wanted friends, and actively made them, but there was still a part of him that feared getting close and having it ripped away again. Tonight was another attempt at living his (undead) life to the fullest, ignoring any trepidation about connection. Everything had started off brilliantly enough, dumping Erika amongst a sea of other vehicles near a dirt track, before joining other curious individuals towards a spectacular display of multicoloured lights. They acted as a beacon, revealing the party location as a barn on some farmland.

Well...a party was a party, no matter where it was held.

Fast forward a couple of hours, and the vampire had spoken to numerous partygoers, danced with some, and pushed aside his doubts for some much-needed fun. And then things decided to go south. What drifted off towards a rekindling with the original guy who invited him, their fumble hidden amongst the stalks of a cornfield, ended up with Rudy suffering the consequence of blood spiked with multiple shots of tequila and rum. It was bitter, leaving a sour taste at the back of his throat, but he thought nothing of it. Some people simply tasted foul. But after guiding his donor back to the party safely, mingling amongst everyone again, it was then he began experiencing various sensations. Blurred vision, tingly skin, slowed reactions, and an uncontrollable wave of giddiness. What his donor had drank over the course of a couple hours had hit him within minutes, instead.

Now everything was great. The party was his playground. At some point during his drunken state, those voicemails were sent to Thistle's phone. Rudy had no idea about them, judging by his surprised reaction later on when the familiar-looking face was spotted. It was as the vampire reluctantly stumbled outside, firmly guided by a woman with her hand upon his bare shoulder, that he learned what she had done. Glad to relinquish the unruly partygoer onto somebody else, she pressed his leather jacket against his chest until he accepted it, before walking off with a disgruntled comment. She should have never offered to host this goddamn shitshow. With a ridiculous amount of difficulty, Rudy shoved both arms into his leather jacket, putting it on completely inside-out. He looked a right mess. There was a distinct lack of white tank top and left combat boot, and his usually tight curls were unruly and plastered against his forehead.

"Oi!..." A lopsided grin appeared on his face as he felt the leather jacket suddenly being tugged off him, eyes lazily finding the person besides him. "...at least buy me dinner first before undressin' me, yeah?" Not that he could eat regular food. But the article of clothing was flipped and shoved back on him, zipped up to give him some ounce of decency. Not that it mattered anymore. "...holy shit, Thistle!" Only now did Rudy realise who was dressing him again, a wide smile given as an ice-cold hand came up to settle upon Thistle's bicep and squeeze. "When did you get here, mate?"

[freedomxfire]

Every fire you walk through is a gateway.

Every pain and challenge you face is a gateway to freedom or entrapment - you decide. FxF exists to teach you how to use the flames of pain for personal gain - how to find freedom by fire.

If we let them, our hard seasons and experiences can brings us greater personal freedom on the other side.

By “hard seasons and experiences,” I mean: trials, tribulations, trauma, challenges, and hardships. This is what we mean by “fire.”

By “personal freedom” I mean freedom from hurts, habits, and hangups.

Hurts, habits, and hangups are what hold you back in life.

Hurts: Painful experiences from the past that still affect you today. These could be things like unhealed wounds from past trauma or other painful experiences like rejection, failure, or loss.

Habits: Behaviors you repeat, often without thinking, that aren't good for you. This might include things like procrastination, negative self-talk, or unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Hangups: Mental or emotional obstacles that prevent you from moving forward. These could be fears, limiting beliefs, or unresolved issues.

Freedom from these means:

You've processed past pain and it no longer controls your actions

You've replaced harmful habits with healthier ones

You've overcome mental barriers that were holding you back

This freedom allows you to respond to life's challenges in a healthier way, make better choices, and live a more fulfilling life.

To put it plainly: You will feel and experience more happiness, joy, success, and peace, and so will the people who interact with and love you.

What Happens If You Don't Work on Your Hurts, Habits, and Hangups

If you choose not to work on freeing yourself from your hurts, habits, and hangups, you might face these consequences:

1. Stuck in the Past: Old hurts keep bothering you. You might find yourself reliving painful memories or getting upset about things that happened long ago.

2. Repeating Mistakes: You keep falling into the same traps or making the same poor choices, even when you don't want to.

3. Relationship Problems: You might push people away or have trouble forming close bonds. Old hurts can make it hard to trust others.

4. Missed Opportunities: Fear or self-doubt might stop you from trying new things or going after what you really want in life.

5. Emotional Rollercoaster: You could find yourself easily upset, angry, or sad, often for reasons that seem small to others.

6. Health Issues: Stress from unresolved issues can lead to physical problems like headaches, stomach troubles, or sleep problems.

7. Addiction Risks: You might turn to unhealthy ways to cope, like using drugs, alcohol, or other addictive behaviors to numb the pain.

8. Work or School Struggles: Concentration might be hard, leading to poor performance at work or in school.

9. Low Self-Esteem: You might not feel good about yourself, which can affect every part of your life.

10. Passing Problems to Others: Your unresolved issues might negatively impact your family, friends, or even your kids.

11. Feeling Stuck: Life might feel like it's not moving forward. You could feel trapped or hopeless about the future.

12. Missing Out on Joy: It can be hard to fully enjoy good moments when you're weighed down by past hurts or bad habits.

Remember, facing these issues isn't always easy, but the alternative – letting them control your life – can be much harder in the long run.

It is the people who have become comfortable hiding their hurts, denying their hurts, and abiding with their hurts that are in the most danger.

Hurt people will hurt other people and keep our world hurting. Healed people can help heal others and the world.

Freedom by Fire exists to help you seek freedom and glean its life-giving benefits.

Freedom by Fire is also a mantra that you can carry with you for the rest of your life - a reminder of the freedom you’ve already won, and a reminder that each new challenge is an opportunity for more.

The backstory:

It all started as a tattoo that founder SBT got spontaneously one day. Her friend wanted to get tattoos together, and though she didn't have anything in mind, she was down. When she got to the tattoo shop, "Freedom by Fire" just came to her.

And you're more than welcome to get it tattoo'ed too. Just make sure to tell everyone what it means, and where you got the idea!

(PS it would look amazing in the our logo font... just saying.)

[sombrerokiwi]

What is hollow cleric

Hollow Knight inspired au where the Moonshade Order did the "End of the World" plan several years earlier. The plan goes without a hitch, except not really because Roi came along and sealed Vide to only Vidania instead of laying waste to the entire world.

Here comes the other problem, the Dawn isn’t back. The Flames are still out and really all that is accomplished is delaying the inevitable. Instead of instant apocalypse we get slow apocalypse. You now are aware of the fact that the world is ending. And now you’re waiting because even though the world didn’t end in an instant, there was a big reason why people wanted the Dawn and soon things just start withering away.

Temenos comes into this by washing up onto the Harbolands with no memories or clue on who he is besides his name and a photo he has of him and someone named “Roi.” Eventually he comes across Crick, learns some things about what is happening in the world and decides to go on a journey to figure out who Roi is while Crick comes with him.

He does eventually meet all the travelers and they all go with him so the found family is happening. He and Castti are good friends over mutual “No memory”.

Most, if not all the characters live in this au but the trade off is that all of them just witness so many horrors because of the Eternal Night. Like the slow but increasing amount of night monsters attacking everyone, the fact that the Dawn is no longer here, the fact there aren’t stars, and the slow but dwindling amount of life that is around starts to become apparent.

No one is okay in this au it’s just on differing levels and responses to the horrors.

On the plus side, all the sacrifices to quench the Sacred Flames are alive but are also slightly cursed because, to be fair they tried to end the world. Now three Moonshade Order Members have to live with their consequences while being cursed. Good news though is that we get to have Ori, Oboro, and Petrichor have interactions with the Travelers to…varying results.

Tanzy is the only one not cursed as she was heavily manipulated by Arcanette. She isn’t having a good time and is traveling with the Troupe because it’s the one constant she has. She’ll get a healing arc don’t worry. We’ll have her write again and slowly be happy with herself.

Jin Mei is alive here and was really just a lamb to the slaughter for the Tranquil Grotto flame. When he wakes up revived he’s just really pissed at Kazan and decides to make it his mission to kill him. This is considered a good thing if it weren’t for the fact that he slowly having that consume him and leading to decisions that hurt than help in the long run.

TLDR: Hollow Knight inspired au, Temenos is the main character and forgot everything, Dawn is not back, Roi is the one keeping Vide at bay (With limited success), everyone is alive, and no one is okay.

[itsncthingpersonal]

"I'm not gonna let anythin' happen to you. Promise." Those were his last words before they fell into complete silence, listening out for the distant crunching of boots across gravel. The problem with having enhanced hearing is the difficulty in determining how far away somebody was, because every single noise was amplified. It echoed inside his mind, overlapping sometimes. But the car park was only small, so their time was limited; the hunters could be on them any second. He needed to think of a plan. There were two options currently rotating around inside his mind, and one of them sounded much better than the first. Although she was willing to fight, as evidenced by the way she mimicked his stance, Rudy wanted to give his friend an easy life. Confrontation on such a big scale was certain suicide, especially with the whole family of hunters getting involved. Their arsenal was unknown and that worried the vampire. He was not going to risk Melike's life by thinking he could take on whatever they had hidden inside their diner.

His preferred option was high-tailing it out of there via Erika, his Ford Escort MK3 currently parked in a secluded spot, right across the opposite end from where they hid. She was so close, yet so far! His car key was burning a hole in the left pocket of his bomber jacket, whispering sweet nothings to him. They had a good chance of reaching his car before the hunters could, but Rudy had to be precise. He couldn't afford to fumble around with trying to get Erika to fire up, because she was temperamental at times, but at least they could escape faster. It would save Rudy having to return, as well. He wasn't going to leave his car behind, no matter how much danger he was in. She had been with him for over four decades! Nobody else was that loyal to him. It was decided. They were going to make their way towards the car, and Rudy gave Melike's shoulder a firm squeeze to get her attention once more.

"New plan..." he spoke in a low tone, pausing for a second as he heard a nearby shuffling noise, followed by a car door slamming shut. The crunching from before had stopped, and Rudy hoped that meant they returned back inside, but that was being way too optimistic. No hunter ever gave up that easily, not when they knew there were two vampires currently lurking on their property. Hunters like those were relentless, only resting when their job was done. But Rudy wasn't going to give them the satisfaction tonight. It seemed to pass, so he continued with newfound determination. "...we're makin' a beeline for Erika. If we keep low and stick behind the other cars, we'll be brills." So simple. Absolutely nothing could go wrong with that! He really was trying to convince himself here. "Are you okay with that?"

His question was suddenly drowned out by the sound of an engine firing up, the rumble reverberating throughout his chest, and he realised with abject horror that their hiding place was about to leave. So that was the noises he heard. It was the sound of a customer getting back into their van, oblivious to the two using it as cover. "Ah...fuck." That about summed up how he felt about their change in situation, and he rolled his lower lip between his teeth in apprehension. Well...it was now or never. Once that van pulled away, those hunters would easily spot them. Anyone would notice two people crouching in the middle of a car park, really, but that was besides the point.

"Guess we're makin' a move, girl! That way..." Nodding over to the back of the van where wisps of grey smoke swirled around from the exhaust pipe, it was their best option to start moving whilst they still had cover.

@itsncthingpersonal continued from here

"Right! We're aces..." Rudy whispered back, flashing her a confident smile that failed to reach his eyes. Thankfully, they were covered by dark lenses so his companion was blissfully unaware, but the inward pull of his brows might have been a clue to his concern. "...but we'll just stay here for a tick, yeah?" Crouched low behind the side of a black van, the gravel was harsh beneath them and every little movement caused many tiny stones to shift and make noise. If he had a set of working lungs, his breath would have been laboured. Perks of being dead! The vampire had his right hand tightly curled around the handle of his baseball bat, whereas the left was soft and reassuring upon Melike's shoulder. Now was not the time for conversation when being overheard could cost them their lives. The night had been chill so far. A catch-up in a downtown diner; a setting that was more about ambience than food that couldn't be consumed. Just two vampires taking time out of the chaos of their individual lives to wind down, but nothing was ever truly that simple. Fate had other ideas, and boy, was she unfair about it tonight. Honestly, how were they supposed to know that this dive was run by a family of hunters? It was bloody typical. Their major mistake was skipping on ordering something, a basic starter or drink, to make them appear normal and blend in with the rest of the customers. Unbeknownst to them, the staff were becoming increasingly suspicious the more time they sat there without requesting a meal. It took one of them to investigate further to confirm their theory.

Rudy had been targeted first. As one of the sons came over to their booth for the third time, he was carrying a jug of water. It was clear that he was going to offer it and Rudy sighed in annoyance, opening his mouth to refuse once more. But a sharp, searing pain exploded across his left thigh as the liquid was poured over it, causing the skin underneath to smoke. It was holy water. Despite how excruciating it was, the vampire managed to bite down on his bottom lip to muffle an agonised shout. Then everything happened in a flash. As the son turned his attention to Melike with the intention of splashing her, Rudy jumped up and smacked the jug out of his hand and across the floor, before forcefully pushing the man backwards. Some got on his ankle in the aftermath, but his main focus was grabbing Melike by her arm and hightailing it out of there before they were trapped inside.

Which is how they found themselves hiding between customer cars in the space behind the establishment. Rudy had bitten down on his baseball bat once they found a good spot, screaming into the wood in a bid to get it out of his system. Fuck, fuck... Fuckity-fuck! His left thigh and ankle had been on fire, and it took a while to finally subside. But now they were trying to keep quiet, avoiding the detection of some hunters who followed them outside. He could hear a bunch of boots crunching across gravel somewhere nearby, and he settled into a better stance as he readied himself to fight if needs be.

This hadn't been how Melike had expected the night to go. A catch up with a vampire friend had all gone terribly wrong. And now, here they are, hiding from hunters. Rudy's confident smile is not contagious. Melike wishes she shared his confidence, but she's not so certain. What if they get caught? Their hiding place is hardly the best. Shouldn't they be running? Surely, they can outrun humans, even hunters. Melike would hate to be staked in her prime.

It has taken her centuries, after all, to get something resembling confident. And she still has her issues, but she's now confident enough that everyone does. There are still things she doesn't know for sure. Like why she's so uninterested in dating men. Other people are a different story. But anyone who's a man just doesn't appeal to her. And sure, Melike's heard of gay people and lesbians. But being one? Well, that would surprise her more than when she had first realized she was a vampire.

Or why she does feel like a woman at times, but also feels like her gender is more complex than that. She's not a man either, for sure. But something else. Something more...expansive. More out of the ordinary. And something that even Melike herself can't quite put her finger on. She's heard the term nonbinary before. But does it apply to her? That is what she doesn't know.

Still, Melike is closer to self-actualization than she's ever been. So it would be a shame for her to die now. So she simply nods at Rudy's words, when he suggests they stay here.

Melike would so hate to fight with the hunters, but as Rudy readies himself, so does Melike. Not one to be outdone, even by a friend. And always happy to defend herself and others. She puts her hair into a ponytail, so it's out of the way in any possible fights. And she mentally prepares herself to give the hunters the biggest fight of their lives.

She looks at Rudy, then, her expression one of resolve. This is not how she had expected the night to go. But Rudy had saved her, once he had gotten splashed with the holy water. As a result of his maneuvering, it hadn't even touched Melike. And for that she is grateful. She will do her best to defend him, too. And despite appearances, Melike can put up one hell of a fight if necessary.

[kirain]

I started playing rdr2 but stopped because like idk but I can't seem to get over the fact that all the women are prostitutes and they don't really have any important roles. Like what's Abigail do? Ooh she's a mother who's always mad? What do the other women do? Oooh they sleep with the gang. What's Sadie do? Oooh she becomes a badly written femme fetale who suddenly becomes a flawless killer. The women are just so badly represented.

I get the feeling you didn't play the game naturally or see any random encounters, because none of what you said is true. There's a lot to unpack here, so let's start with the "all the women are prostitutes" comment.

First of all, none of the women are prostitutes, a fact that deeply irritates Micah. During a coach robbery where he rides with Arthur and Bill, he even says, “Why the hell do we need a gaggle of girls who won’t even fuck you if you put a gun to their head? Is it too much to ask considering they get a piece of every damn dollar I bring in?” Poor baby. He even tries to proposition all of the women (Grimshaw included), but they all insult him and send him running with his tail between his legs. It’s hilarious and I love it. Arthur also responds to Micah with, “Everyone does their share. I don’t see you lifting a finger around camp.”

Now a bit about the girls:

Mary-Beth was a skilled pickpocket, but she ended up being caught by a group of her victims. She mentions this during a conversation with Arthur, where she points out how hard it was for women who came from nothing, and the inequality of it all. RDR2 actually regularly highlights how difficult frontier/outlaw life was for women back then, often pulling zero punches. While fleeing her pursuers, Mary-Beth luckily ran into Hosea, who helped her escape and welcomed her to the gang. You can see Dutch lusting after her a few times, because he's an old pervert, but she always shuns his advances. She was never a prostitute and she was actually underage when she joined.

Tilly was a child outlaw and a member of the Forman gang from the age of twelve. She ended up killing the leader's cousin because he [as is heavily implied] tried to rape her. She was around sixteen at the time and tried to return to her mother after the ordeal, but she unfortunately passed away while Tilly was running with the Formans. Out of options, she eventually joined the van der Linde gang after Dutch saved her from some unspecified trouble. You can find most of this out during one of my favourite side missions, where she gets kidnapped by Anthony Foreman in retaliation for killing his cousin. With Grimshaw’s help, you can rescue Tilly and put an end to it once and for all. She was never a prostitute and was also underage when taken in.

Susan Grimshaw was one of the original members of the gang and one of Dutch's first lovers. They parted amicably and both fell in love with other people (Dutch with Annabelle, and Susan with a doctor who sadly ended up dying), but she stayed with the gang because of their mutual respect for each other. She later became the arbiter of the camp and a kind of surrogate mother to Arthur, John, and the other girls. She was never a prostitute, but rather a rough-and-tumble outlaw.

Karen is a little more complicated. Overall, she was a scam artist (Hosea even called her an “actress”) who sometimes lured men into brothels, then stole from them or picked their brains for leads. That doesn't necessarily mean she was a prostitute; however, it just means she used sex as a manipulation tactic. Out of all the women in the group, she was the freest and most unconventional. She also stood on guard duty and participated in heists. The only man she ever slept with in game was Sean, and his death absolutely devastated her. If you talk to her or observe her interactions, you also discover she’s a raging alcoholic suffering from some very deep-seated issues. She likely did have to do things she wasn’t proud of in order to survive, but in my opinion that makes her one of the most realistic members of the group. She was never described as a prostitute.

Molly was an aristocrat who left her family to be with Dutch. His abusive treatment eventually led her to suffer an identity crisis, where she ended up hysterical and heartbroken. Her story is sad, but she was never a prostitute. If anything, Molly is the best example we have that Dutch views people as items, not human beings.

Abigail is the only prostitute in the game, but by the events of RDR2 she's an ex-prostitute. To say she's nothing more than "a mother who's always mad", I feel, does her character a great disservice. First of all, she left that profession behind to raise her son, to give him a decent chance in life. Unlike John, she stepped up immediately to become a responsible adult. I don't think people realise how impressive that is because, one, she could've easily abandoned Jack at the roadside (which was common back then), two, she could've induced an abortion, and three, she was quite young when she had him; around nineteen years old.

You say the women are "poorly represented", but they're stronger, smarter, and more mature than most of the men. A few of them even become self-sufficient in the turn of the century, something dear old Dutch couldn't even do/accept. Abigail in particular helps Sadie mourn her husband and the two grow very close. Their interactions are both grounded and heartwarming, with Abigail telling Sadie she’ll suffer the loss of her husband, but that it’ll get better if she keeps on living. She takes care of her, and Sadie later returns that kindness. These women are so full of quirks and humour and personality, I don’t know how you missed it.

As for Sadie ... where do I even begin? Badly written? Femme fatale? Flawless killer? Sadie is one of the best written characters. She's not flawless, she's exceptionally flawed, temperamental, and traumatised. It's never expressly stated, but it's implied at several points throughout the game that she was repeatedly assaulted while the O'Driscolls kept her captive. At first, she's petrified and miserable, to the point that all she does is cry and express suicidal ideation. Then, she gets angry. Very angry. Having nothing left to live for, her home and husband torn from her grasp, she throws herself headfirst into danger, which almost gets her killed on a number of occasions.

She's not a "flawless killer", she's a messy killer. She's not an expert death-dealer, and that's made evident from the start -- but she was a hunter who shared the workload with her husband, so it's not as if her skills just magically appeared. You do see how much it weighs on her, however, near the end of chapter six. If you help her kill the rest of the O'Driscolls, she laments what she's become because she thinks her husband would be horrified. She’s extremely complex and struggles between mourning and moving on.

I also can't help but laugh at the "femme fatale" accusation, because Sadie actually defeminises herself, which is understandable considering the hell she’s suffered. She even wears men's clothing, which wasn't illegal [anymore] back then, but it was openly frowned upon. Femme fatales use their beauty and sexuality to their advantage, ensnaring men with their feminine wiles. Sadie never does that and fights side-by-side with the boys. Interestingly enough, that's partially why Calamity Jane, an actual historical figure, garnered so much attention, because of how she behaved/dressed. It’s pretty clear to me that Rockstar might’ve used her as inspiration for Sadie. This was a real woman who lived from 1852 to 1903.

In addition, Sadie plays one of the most important roles, yet she does so without falling into the category of a Mary-Sue. She saves the gang and moves them to a new location when the Pinkertons attack Shady Belle. She hatches the plan that frees John from prison. She helps Arthur rescue Abigail after she gets kidnapped. She tracks down Micah and puts an end to his reign of terror. But most of what she does she accomplishes with a partner--Arthur or John--both of whom she respects immensely. No one, not even Arthur, does everything alone, and when they do there’s usually negative consequences. It's the camaraderie and shared experiences that make these characters successful, and aside from Charles and Hosea, I’d even argue that the women are more well-rounded and fleshed out than the men.

I gather from for comments that you didn't finish the game, so I hate to spoil it, but I kind of have to if you walked away with this mindset. The women of RDR2 are a force to be reckoned with.

[nebulablakemurphy]

The Red Room

Summary: Meeting Yelena in the red room is the best and worse thing that’s ever happened to you. Warning: romantic Yelena x Fem!reader pairing and depictions of violence.

Those first weeks in the red room pass in a blur. You have one room. Just you. Meals are delivered like clockwork; no one speaks to you. Your only company being the television set that plays the same clips; morning, noon and night.

Until one day the lights flip on brightly above you and a woman enters. You squint up at her, “hello?”

“Hello.” She replies, “are you ready to get out of here?”

“Where will I go?” You wonder.

“Wherever I tell you.”

That is your first encounter with Madame B. When you were younger you thought her something of a savior. You know better now. Still when she calls for you, there’s no choice but to go.

You make your way down the long hall, florescent lights humming above you. Finally reaching the room you’ve been assigned; you grasp the door knob. Feeling the weight of the cool metal against your palm, with a steadying breath you turn it.

Inside is only Madame B and a girl. One you’ve only seen in passing, one of Dreykov’s favorites.

“Y/N, meet Yelena. She will be your partner from now on.” Madame B leads the introduction.

“Did something happened to Oksana?” Your brows pull together, voice small. Afraid to cross an unspoken boundary. She’s always been your partner.

“Oksana is no longer your concern.” The woman bites out. “Shake hands and prepare for your lesson.”

You nod, biting your tongue.

Lesson…

Sparring.

Dancing.

Captive simulations.

What will it be this time?

“Oksana is ok.” Yelena tells you, once the trainer is out of earshot.

“Good,” you whisper, holding your hand out to shake without another word.

“Is that why they kept you locked up so long? You don’t play well with others?” The blonde takes your hand, eyes narrowed into slits.

“I don’t play at all.” You inform her. Pleasing these people is your ticket out of here, and you will get out.

“Everybody plays, whether you want to or not.” Yelena tells you, letting your fingers slip from hers. “Just don’t get in my way.”

——————————————————————-

You don’t get in each other’s way. Somehow having Yelena as a combat partner is a lot less annoying than you anticipated.

Oksana is a better friend, but you aren’t here to make friends. You’re here to kill. Topple regimes from the inside out, Yelena helps you do that.

Your training with Yelena is different. Chipping away parts of you until you fit together seamlessly. From trust falls to synchronized attack plans, you name it you do it. Sometimes until you bleed.

One of your trainers, Ivan, has taken a liking to blind folded direction. Outside of captive simulations it is your least favorite team building activity.

You remind yourself to focus and breathe. In some ways guiding is worse than being guided. “Veer slightly to your right.”

Yelena lifts one bare foot, holding it airborne, allowing you to assess the placement of her next step. “Here?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, as she clears the bit of shattered glass. “That’s perfect.”

———————————————————————

Your first real assignment comes on Monday, June second.

“Come in, Miss American Pie. I have eyes on the target.” Yelena informs you through the ear piece.

“That’s still not my name, over. Stay high, I’m going down.” You reply, deploying your rope and riding it to the ground.

“Five ticks northwest and the package is yours.”

“Copy.” You follow her instruction, ducking away as a bullet shatters the window beside you. “Easy.” You chastise, in a hushed whisper.

“Sorry,” she apologizes half heartedly. The kill was necessary and she had a clean shot.

You spot your target, ready to turn onto the main street from the alleyway. You wrestle him to the ground, he puts up a good fight. Not good enough.

You wipe the blood from your hands before removing the usb drive from his breast coat pocket. “Just admit it,” you taunt, turning to the building Yelena is scoping from, “you’re proud of me.”

“Y/N!” Her tone is not playful at all.

What’s wrong? Before you get a chance to ask the man you’d assumed dead has his knife buried in your thigh.

You crumple to the ground as he prepares to strike again. In the time it takes to unholster your weapon a silent bullet reaches his temple from the sky.

You squint up at Yelena, watching her ride her teether down to the ground beside you. “Thanks.” You pant, inspecting the damage.

“That was sloppy,” she frowns, searching her pack for the midkit, then tearing open a package of gauze. “You always check the body, confirm the kill.”

“I know, I was stupid.” You gasp, feeling Yelena apply an obscene amount of pressure to your wound.

“We need to move to the extraction point, they can deal with you in medical.” Yelena rises, tossing your arm over her shoulder for support.

“It won’t happen again.” You promise, leaning heavily against her side.

“You’re right, it won’t. I have no idea what happens to me if you die.” She grumbles, somewhat bitterly.

———————————————————————

Interactions with Yelena are sparse after that. She doesn’t trust you. Only showing up for your lessons and leaving the moment they’re finished. You understand why she’s angry, you would be too.

According to your weekly rotation, today should be live target practice, however you are directed to a different room.

Once inside your eyes find the chair. You hate that chair. You hate this room. Nothing good ever happens here.

Slowly you move toward Yelena at the far wall.

“A little birdie told me that you’ve been holding back in combat lessons.” Ivan says, tapping a finger to his chin. “Why is that?”

You bite anxiously at the inside of your cheek.

“I said why is that?!”

You notice Yelena flinch from the corner of your eye. “It’s my fault,” you hold up a hand. “I took a hit on our last mission and my partner was being mindful of my injuries.”

“Oh I see.” He smirks, condescendingly. “You don’t want to hurt each other.”

“It would be counter productive to harm my partner.” Yelena points out. The red room drilled that into you.

“That is true.” His eyes dart between you. “But we can’t have you afraid of sparring together. Now can we?”

Your jaw ticks, awaiting the consequence.

“When’s the last time you girls ran a captive simulation?”

“Two weeks ago.” Yelena presents her left index finger to him for inspection. The nail just beginning to grow back.

Ivan hums, “When’s the last time you ran a captive simulation on each other?”

Your heart drops, all the blood running out of your face. Not for months.

“Hmm,” he wets his lips. “Who gets to play the captor first?”

Neither one of you volunteer.

“Belova,” he purrs. “Come choose your tools while Y/L/N straps herself into the chair.”

You don’t hesitate, it’ll be worse if you do. Tuning out his incessant chatter you find your seat. The metal chair sends a chill up your spine. Bending at the waist, you strap each ankle into a leather restraint, then your non dominant hand. Free hand waiting, curled around the arm rest.

Yelena kneels before you, her selections resting at your feet as she closes the final strap around your wrist. Your breath quickens.

“Fifteen minutes on the clock then you’ll switch.” Your spectator announces. “Make them count or we’ll start over.”

On autopilot Yelena reaches for the scalpel.

You don’t mean to scream…but eventually you do. You always do.

———————————————————————

Yelena knows your weaknesses and regularly exploits them to leave you face up on the floor during hand to hand combat sessions.

You used to resent her for it, but it made you strong. Stronger than you’ve ever been or hoped to be. The day you finally best her the room is filled with hushed whispers. Now you are ready.

You learn to move in harmony. The trainers ease up a bit and the other girls line up to watch you like an exhibit. You are two halves of a more perfect whole.

“Madame B, can I ask you something?” You say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Of course.” The older woman replies. “What is it?”

“Why was my training so different with Oksana?”

She leans in. “You were not brought here to be a partner to Oksana. She was standing in until we could be sure you were ready for a partner. Nothing more.”

“Was I brought here to be Yelena’s partner?” The question burns at the back of your throat.

“I understand the desire to seek meaning in these things. You hope to find your place in the world.”

You nod.

“But you have no place in the world,” the words cut like a knife. “What you do have is an opportunity to prove that you are not a waste of space, time, or resources. Come, let’s sit for debriefing.”

You wait in silence for Yelena to arrive, finally she does. Taking the seat beside you in the meeting room.

“In two days you will undergo the graduation ceremony, after which you are granted up to three days recovery time before you will be deployed to Moscow.” Madame B reviews the information, handing you each a folder of details.

“Enclosed you will find your identification cards and aliases. I suggest you take this time to familiarize yourselves. Tomorrow we will begin shooting photographs for the past two years of your lives. Report with several changes of clothing. Congratulations on this assignmet. It is a great honor.” Madame B dismisses you.

You open the file. ‘Katherine and Irena Reiner.’

“We’re sisters?” Yelena guesses.

Worse. “We’re married.”

“Even better.” She says under her breath, rising from the chair.

———————————————————————

Life in Moscow is different. Good. The neighbors are easy enough to convince. You play your parts to perfection.

The company you work for being the main focus. They have access to some sort of programming that Dreykov is desperate to get his hands on. You know better than to ask why.

Most mornings you get ready together, discussing the events of the previous day to prepare for the next.

“How come you only speak English?” Yelena wonders, turning off the steady spray of water from her shower and reaching out to grab a towel.

“I have a theory,” you reply, spitting excess toothpaste into the sink. “I think keeping me dependent on translation had more pros than cons.”

“They taught me.” She says, stepping onto the bath mat. “But I guess that’s different.”

You were brought in much older a majority of the other girls.

Your eyes meet in the mirror, seeing each other as if for the first time.

“I could teach you.” She offers, breaking the connection as she turns away.

“Yeah?” You pass the brush through your hair.

Yelena shrugs, “I have nothing better to do.”

“Just don’t teach me the wrong words to make me look stupid.” You arch a brow.

“It would be counter productive to harm my partner.”

Hours turn into days. Days into weeks and suddenly you stand on a blurred line. How much is she pretending? How much are you?

The two of you rest on opposite ends of the couch. Enjoying another round of prime time television.

“Yesterday I was talking to that girl in accounting.” Yelena pulls your attention from the picture.

“The blonde one?” You ask, tossing a piece of popcorn at her.

She attempts to catch it in her mouth. Having had more than a few drinks her coordination is lacking.

You smirk, when it falls into her lap.

“No Maggie.” She corrects you, finding the wayward piece and biting into it.

“Mmm.” You hum.

“Mmm? What do you mean, ‘mmm?’” Yelena’s brows pull together.

“Nothing,” you insist. “I was just acknowledging what you said.”

“You didn’t sound very happy about it. Did she do something to you?” Yelena demands, straightening her posture.

“No, she didn’t do anything. Anyway tell me what happened.”

“She’s worked there for a long time. I think she knows more than she says she does.”

“So are you gonna talk to her again? See if she’ll open up?” Yelena has that effect on people.

“I am married.” She rolls her eyes, flipping her left ring finger in place of the middle.

“Shut up.” You chuckle.

“I’m crazy about you, know you. Ever since we met in high school. You didn’t like me at first but you came around.” Yelena elaborates.

“I don’t remember seeing all that in our cover story.” You cock your head to the side.

“That was a shit story, I’m rewriting it.” She waves a hand.

“Tell me more.” Tell me everything.

———————————————————————

“Did you get milk?” You shout, peeking into the nearest paper bag.

“Was it on the list?” Yelena hollers back, from the front door, kicking it shut. Her arms full of groceries.

“I don’t remember,” you say, unpacking the head of lettuce and eggs.

“You made the list.” She scoffs, setting the rest of the haul on the floor.

A knock pulls your attention away from the food.

“Who is it?” You wonder.

“It’s me, George. From next door.” Your neighbor answers.

Yelena rolls her eyes, waving you out of the kitchen. It’s your turn to make small talk.

You step carefully around the produce to the main entrance. “Hey George.” You smile, swinging open the door, “what’s up?”

“Katherine!” He greets you. “Could I borrow Irena for a minute?”

“Is that lawnmower giving you trouble again?” You guess, leaning against the door frame.

“It’s running great actually. There’s something else I’m curious about though.”

“I can send her over after dinner.” You attempt to dismiss him.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” George moves his foot to prevent the door from closing, producing a pistol from his waistband.

“George!” Yelena waves, clearly oblivious.

“Irena,” he looks down at the gun, pointed at your chest, “we have much to discuss.”

“Clearly.” Yelena agrees, coming to join you on the threshold. “Are you going to tell me why you have my wife at gunpoint?”

“We should take this inside.”

“I’m good here.”

He presses the barrel against your skin through the fabric of your shirt. “You sure about that?”

“On second thought, I could go for a drink. Do you like scotch?” Yelena takes a step back, leaving room for him to enter the house.

“Who sent you?” George demands, guiding you into the kitchen.

“We also have brandy.” She says, expression unreadable.

“Who are you working for?” He asks a second time, adjusting his grip on the gun. “First one goes in her leg.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Yelena drawls. “But I’m going to warn you, if you hurt her, you die.”

“You have three seconds to give me a better answer,” the nuzzle of the gun sits flush against you upper thigh. “One, two-“

Yelena lunges, the gun firing into the floor when he’s knocked off balance.

George tosses her off as if she weighs nothing. You rush him, knocking the fire arm to the other side of the room. Your arms locked around his neck, flush to his back. He rams you back first into the china cabinet.

You fall away with a grunt.

“Now,” the man rights himself. Wiping away the blood from his split bottom lip with the back of his hand. “We’re going to have fun.”

Taking a fist full of your hair he begins pulling you toward the center of the room. You grab for a large shard of glass, slicing it over the back of this knee. He releases you, doubling over.

“I warned you.” Yelena snarls, stabbing her knife into his belly, making a straight line up to his sternum. “You thought you could use her to break me? They used to make me torture her! They used to make me-“ she breaks off, withdrawing her knife. Only to ram it in again and again.

George, if that was his real name, is long dead. A crimson puddle blooming on the floor. It doesn’t stop Yelena, hot, angry tears rolling past her cheeks.

“Yelena.” You say softly.

“They used to make me do it.” She repeats, the weight of the words crushing down on her.

Your arms envelope her from behind.

“No.” She sobs when she feels you there, holding exactly where it hurts.

“It’s ok.” You whisper against her ear.

The blood stained blade clatters to the ground. Her breathing ragged as both her hands find yours, squeezing tightly. Don’t let go.

“It’s ok.”

“No it’s not.” She cries, frantically shaking her head.

“I did it too.” As if she needs reminding. “They made me do it too.”

She allows you to stay curled around her, desperately trying to absorb some of that pain.

———————————————————————

Yelena’s drug of choice is alcohol, the spirits burn their way into her blood stream. Erasing all that she’s done.

“You want a glass?” She offers, setting the bottle of clear liquor down on the coffee table.

“No thanks.” You shake your head, hair still damp from the shower.

“Don’t be a hero,” she rolls her eyes as she takes a seat. The water had washed away any trace of George.

“Fine,” you take a long swig from the bottle in question.

“You’ll thank me later.” She tosses back a shot, sliding the strap of your pajama top down to assess the damage to your left shoulder. “It’s deep, going to need stitches. This is why we don’t go through china cabinets.” Yelena chastises, moving for the first aid kit.

“Yeah, not my finest moment.” You peek at her. “But it worked.”

“Mmm,” she hums, returning to her spot. Flipping open the white box and removing what she needs to stitch you up.

First she hits you with the antiseptic “сука!” Bitch.

“See,” you can hear the smile in her voice, “you are learning.”

You let out a pained laugh, “I guess I am. We need to call someone to clean this up.”

“Here,” she hands you her phone, blowing gently over you wound. “You take care of that, I take care of you.”

Your heart clenches at her words. But Yelena is your partner. That is all.

“Belova, do you have a status update?” A familiar voice answers after the first ring.

“Yeah, we need a cleanup.” You say matter of factly.

“Agent Y/L/N.” He greets you. “How many?”

“One.”

“For now,” The man remarks.

“You didn’t tell us we weren’t alone in this pursuit.” You purse your lips.

“There’s a reason we sent the best. I’ll put in for a clean up crew in the morning.”

“Let them know the body is in the bathtub.”

The goes dead.

The conversation distracts you well enough from the dull ache of the needle poking and pulling at your shoulder.

Carefully Yelena bandages the abused skin. Her finger tips running along the back of your arm.

“Thank you.” You whisper, relaxing into her touch.

Her lips ghost over your skin. “You’re welcome.”

Oh.

Slowly you turn, as if not to startle her. Yelena’s eyes find yours.

You move closer, tracing the line of her jaw. “Thank you,” you repeat.

She nods, still unsure.

“Of all the people I could’ve been stuck here with…I’m glad it was you.”

“You don’t have to say that.” She pulls your hand away gently.

“You’re right. I don’t have to say anything.“ You murmur, “But I want to… and it would be counter productive to harm my partner.”

“We can’t.” She knows it. You know it. “It will get in the way. They’ll kill us.”

“No.” You chuckle bitterly. “They’ll make us kill each other.”

“I wouldn’t do it,” Yelena insists.

“You won’t have a choice.” You point out. “Didn’t you hear about that stuff they started pumping into people?”

“Mind control.” Yelena replies in Russian.

“It’s only a matter of time.”

“Maybe we get out.”

“Maybe,” you smile sadly, “maybe we find each other.” In another life.

———————————————————————

Three days later Yelena comes home late. During your day off you were tasked with the more mundane tasks of running a household, but you suppose there are worse things. She finds you in the laundry room, drink already in hand. Her mouth set in a frown.

“What’s wrong?” You drop the piece of clothing back into the basket.

“I have it.” Yelena confesses.

You press your lips together, you knew this was coming. That information is the only reason you are here. “Did you contact them?”

“Not yet.”

“Are you going to?”

“You say that like I have a choice.” She stares down at her drink.

“I just meant-“

“I know what you meant.” Yelena knows you, better than anyone. The red room saw to that. “Do you want to stay one more night?”

“Do you?” You wonder.

“When I was a little girl…I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.”

“In the morning,” you offer. Any longer and the risk will be too great. “We’ll go in the morning.”

She nods, taking in the room around her. “I wanted it to be real.”

“It was.” You choke down the lump in your throat.

———————————————————————

Your return to the red room is swift. No pat on the back or celebration to be had. Just two pawns, returning to their places on the board.

You’re separated from Yelena. Because your loyalties are to each other and that poses a threat. But what did they expect? They made you this way.

You are alone. Perhaps the most alone you’ve ever been. Or maybe you’d just forgotten that you could feel things. You remember now and wish you didn’t.

Like it or not she changed you. Knowing her had changed you, for better or for worse. After Yelena you were never the same.

Word of Oksana’s escape only fuels the need to chemically alter the minds of all agents. Beginning in order of importance.

Finding Yelena seated on the bench outside the physician’s office steals the breath from your lungs. To see her now is blatantly cruel and calculated.

Still you sit in the empty space beside her.

“Do you know where your orders are?” She asks.

“Yeah,” you nod, “Budapest. You?”

“Back to Moscow.” Yelena informs you.

You swallow hard, your pinkies skating past each other.

“Agent Y/L/N,” the doctor opens his door. You watch as another widow exits, she doesn’t look any different. Maybe the mind control drugs aren’t affective.

You steal one last glance at Yelena. Her eyes are desperate, ‘don’t go.’ Both of you knowing you can’t stay.

“Enjoy Moscow.” You whisper, moving reluctantly to your feet.

She tears her gaze away, unable to watch you leave. “I hear Budapest is beautiful.”

You hope so.

Wanna know what happens next? Check out chapter one of Miss American Pie! 💜

Yelena Belova Taglist: @captainwonderwidow

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Lying (Next) To You (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for violence + language Warnings: Blood-drinking/general vampiric shenanigans Summary: There is no goal other than escape. You want out of this castle, no matter what you have to do, no matter the consequences. At first, the solution seems to lie with one of the very women you want to get away from. But what happens when you find yourself genuinely caring for her? Length: 5,934 words

Merely surviving had never been your intention. From day one in this foul place, this unholy castle, you had strived to escape. No matter what, you refused to allow such dismal grounds to be your grave. But leaving wouldn’t be as simple as walking out an unlocked door. It required manipulation, agility, and the willingness to screw over anyone who got in your way. Even those who you would have once called friends, or the closest thing you had to that among the servants. Was that something you were willing to do? Absolutely, without a shred of doubt in your mind. Someday, somehow, regardless of what it took, you’d get out and never look back. For now, though, all you can do is scheme…

—————————

Three targets, each incredibly difficult to get your hands on, each presenting their own unique challenges. Which would be easiest to charm? You were still debating that answer.

First was Bela: The eldest, most responsible, forced to be the “role model” for her sisters. A bookworm (a trait the two of you shared) who spent a fair amount of her freetime in the library. While not overtly cruel, she was still rather violent, especially in cases where she felt her family had been insulted. However, there were whispers that she had a secret weakness: Anxiety. None had caught her in the open throes of an attack and lived to tell the tale. But she had been overheard, more than once, quiet cries or shaking breaths. Trying to talk to her during one of these occasions could lead to gaining her affection- if you managed to do what no other had been capable of doing, that is.

Second was Daniela: The youngest, most excitable, eager to please and desperate to be pleased. Easily interacted with more maidens than either of her sisters, though not always in a good way. Getting her attention could mean getting pulled into her room in the middle of the night, for some “fun”, or it could mean getting drained of all of your blood. Sometimes she did one after the other. Like Bela, she was a bookworm, though she preferred romance novels as opposed to her older sister’s educational texts. As for her weakness? To you, Daniela seemed to be the definition of “undiagnosed ADHD”. Less exploitable for sympathy than her sister, but possibly useful in helping you trick her. At the end of the day, the largest concern with her was her inconsistent behavior, her tendency to flip moods at the drop of a hat- and a drop of the hat with her could feel a helluva lot like a drop of an axe (onto your neck).

Then came the third… the one you didn’t think was worth the risk, whatsoever: Cassandra. Middle child and acting just like it, she was hungry for her mother’s approval, attention, and respect most of all. Bloodthirsty as could be, with a mean streak eight kilometers wide, the truest monster you had ever met. Even her fondness for the arts manifested in malevolent ways. Supposedly, she painted in blood, and made sculptures from the bones of her victims, displayed proudly in her room as trophies. What could you possibly do to earn her affection? What could you ever be to her, other than a plaything or mid-afternoon snack?... Nothing, you assumed, and so you figured you might as well remove her from your list. Somehow you’d have to make do with one of her sisters. As for which one?... You decided to let fate decide, and go for whomever you found yourself with an opportunity to court.

—————————

Free time was a rare commodity in Castle Dimitrescu. While every servant did technically get one day off every week, it wasn’t uncommon to end up helping with something unexpected, even if one tried to hide away in the private quarters. For you, it was an opportune time to try and get closer to your targets. So far three weeks had passed since your “decision” to focus on Bela and Daniela, without a single interaction with either of them. Still, hope held fast in your chest, as you made haste towards the library. On this free day you intended to read as much as possible. ‘Twas a two-pronged goal: First, you would increase your chances of running into one of your preferred employers. Secondly, you could possibly learn something through what content you consumed, perhaps to be utilized in later conversations.

Or such was the hope. In truth, you did not make it to the library, nor even anywhere close. A quarter of the way there you were interrupted by an ever-dreaded noise; buzzing echoed throughout the hallway, first far off, but getting closer with every second. There was a particular ferocity to the vibrations that you knew meant danger was approaching. According to the other maidens, this was a distinction that everyone learned over time, assuming that they survived long enough. The smart thing would have been to duck away into an adjacent room in the hopes that whatever sister it was would ignore you. But your endgame weighed heavy on your mind, then forced your feet to the floor. For better or worse, you would be in the woman’s path, ready for whatever she may ask of you.

“You-” a voice snarled, as a hooded figure phased out of the swarm and into your vision. Her head was held high, eyes narrowed as they stared down at you, a snarl twisting her lips. Of course it was her. Cassandra Dimitrescu. The one daughter you didn’t want to encounter. Inside, part of you writhes in self deprecation, feeling as if you should have known better. How often did the other two buzz about so angrily?... Well, certainly a fair bit, but nowhere near as much as Cassandra. Fuck, you think, I’m probably doomed. “I’m hungry. Come here real quick,” Cassandra demands, beckoning you towards her with a single finger. In another life you would have blushed bright red at the sight. A life where she wasn’t a vampiric monster, that is.

Nonetheless, you are quick to obey, masking your anxiety as best as you can. Doing so gets much harder once your gaze meets Cassandra’s, and you see her lick her lips before smirking at you. As soon as you’re within her reach, she’s surging forward, grabbing you by your shoulders, then pivoting, pressing you hard against the wall. You can’t help but gasp at the sudden movements, which only widens her grin. Before you know it she’s running her tongue along your neck. Once more you gasp, this time softer, hating the way your body urges you to lean into her touch. Why couldn’t she simply get straight to the worst of it? Instead she takes her sweet time, slipping a finger beneath the collar of your shirt, slowly, carefully tugging it to the side. When she finally bites, it is terribly sudden. The pleasure comes before the pain, stronger than you would have expected, eliciting a sharp inhale from you that sounds more satisfied than you had intended. Even as a rush of pain follows, you can’t help the red that tints your cheeks.

“Enjoying this, hmm?” Cassandra asks, after licking away at your blood for a few moments, pulling back but not releasing you. Something in her eyes makes you need to respond.

“Y-yes, more than I’d like to admit,” you mumble, barely able to make eye contact. But she seems pleased by this, gently cupping your chin while she looks you over.

“Well then, if you survive… I might just have to drink from you again,” she whispers, before diving right back in towards your neck. This time her touch is far, far softer than before. It feels more like she’s kissing you rather than drinking from you. A strange, irritatingly familiar feeling springs in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t help but make more of those noises she seemed to enjoy so much. Hell, your eyes drift closed as you take in the surprisingly welcome sensation. When they reopen, however, you give a yelp of surprise, spotting a very awkwardly waiting servant. They were blushing, clearly not having expected to come upon this particular sight. Cassandra perks up at your shock, turning to follow your gaze, then giving an uncharacteristically resigned groan. “Damn it, Ava, is it urgent?” She asks, to which the servant gives a silent shrug. “I’ll be done in a minute. Now, where were we?”

Once more she resumes feeding, casting aside all traces of sweetness, sucking on your wound with reckless abandon. Behind her, Ava gives you a thumbs up before turning away. As embarrassing as the moment felt, you were grateful to xer, glad that xe seemed to recognize your desire for privacy. More than that… if xe hadn’t come along, would Cassandra have remembered to stop before your bloodloss became fatal? There was no guarantee either way. Yet xer intervention felt like a godsend, and you made a mental note to thank xer later. Soon enough Cassandra removes herself from you, pausing only to cup your chin for a moment, meeting your gaze with a smirk. Then she was turning away without another word, following Ava to some unknown destination.

A deep breath, then another, more frantic, the familiar sense of panic growing on the edges of your mind. Now that the feeding was over, you were left trembling with all the fear you had been so adamant about not showing before. How close to death had you come? How close were you now? Only feeling slightly more faint than you had earlier, it felt safe enough to assume you would be fine, if only physically. Inside your mind you were struggling with racing thought after racing thought. How the hell am I supposed to do this with either Bela or Daniela? You think, trying to breathe past the lump in your throat. And why did I have to enjoy that so much? They’re nothing more than means to an end, monsters undeserving of my kindness, of my joy. Your only comfort was the knowledge that this may very well have been the opportunity you had been waiting for; but only if you could shift your aim.

—————————

The difference was subtle, almost microscopic, to the point where it took you a full week to notice. But once you had? Everything felt different. You couldn’t spend more than three seconds in the same room as Cassandra without her eyes following you, watching your every move, sending a rush of both fear and excitement down your spine. Meeting her gaze only made her give the tiniest fraction of a smile. As soon as something (or someone) else caught her attention, however, you were forgotten in the blink of an eye. Yet it was nerve wracking nonetheless. This was roughly what you had hoped for, but you had underestimated the mental toll it would take on you. There was no way to tell whether Cassandra wanted violence, something softer, or her usual brand- a cruel mixture of both. Every second spent in her presence was a roll of the dice, a flip of a coin, either one weighted to put the odds against you.

But you persisted. Escape was not a dream, nor a fantasy, nor some far off cryptid. It was inevitable. Again and again you would swallow your fear until you reached your long-sought destination. No matter the cost, you think, no matter the consequences. Over time, that cost, those consequences, would grow. For now, it was a slice of your sanity. Next? More blood, it seemed.

“Casserole wants you to stop by her art studio,” the note said, cursive hand-writing ever-so-fancy and ever-so-difficult to read. Clearly from Ava, the mildly mysterious (but incredibly helpful) castle servant known for never speaking a word. From what you had gathered, xe was a confidant of sorts for the Dimitrescu family, trusted far more than the average worker. Alas, xe was loyal to the center of xer being, and was rumored to be impeccable at preventing escape attempts before they had even started. If you wanted out of this damn place, you knew you’d have to be careful around xer. Hopefully xe won’t interrupt this time, you think, before tucking the note away in your pocket.

Cassandra’s infamous studio wasn’t terribly far from your quarters, thankfully, though you weren’t even sure if you were supposed to arrive at a specific time. What if she wasn’t expecting you until later? Worse, what if she had been expecting you an hour ago? It’s a dangerous thought, one that could easily spiral into something far more drastic, and you try to reassure yourself, reminding yourself that Ava would have mentioned a time if it was important. In the end, you still found your heart racing as you stood outside the room in question. Pausing to take a deep breath, you center yourself, before raising a hand to knock. To your surprise, you get an answer before your hand even gets close to the door.

“Come in already,” Cassandra chimes from inside. Unsure of what terrible fate you were about to meet, you entered the room, somewhat reluctantly. Despite the myriad of unsavory rumors regarding the studio, there were no immediate signs of brutality. At the worst, the space was fairly messy, though not due to any, ahem, “misplaced” body parts. No, just an overflowing garbage bin, a few unfinished projects placed haphazardly wherever they’d fit, shards of glass in one corner, and tile floor splattered with a Pollock-esque layer of paint. In one word? Chaotic. Such was the type of environment that seemed to suit Cassandra best, the sort in which you imagined she would thrive. But you didn’t have time to examine anything as closely as you would have liked to. “Are you going to keep me waiting?”

“No, Lady Cassandra,” you reply, hurriedly, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. Then you’re quickly crossing the room, to what looks like a cross between a storage cabinet and a paint mixing station. In Cassandra’s hands, however, you find something less welcoming than a paintbrush: A needle and an empty blood bag. Well, you think, I guess I know why I’m here. At least there’s only one bag, right? “What do you require of me, my Lady?” While the answer was fairly obvious, you didn’t know the specific steps necessary, and it never hurt to be as polite as possible with the Dimitrescu family.

“Just sit down, roll your sleeves up, look pretty, and stay still. Try not to make any noises this time- as cute as they were last time, I have a headache,” Cassandra explains, gesturing towards the room’s only chair. Ignoring the way your cheeks heated up, you did as she asked, trying to get relatively comfortable. It was somewhat difficult to relax, considering who you were with. “Calm down, pet, I’m only going to hurt you a little. That’s more than I can say for most people who end up here.” Why did she have to use a nickname for you? Weren’t you already flushed enough without her teasing you further? Though your flustering does turn to confusion after a moment, as you wonder how she knew how afraid you were. You were under the impression that you were hiding it fairly well. Noticing your reaction, Cassandra rolls her eyes, before leaning in to whisper in your ear. “I can hear your heartbeat. Normally I’d find this… exciting. But my head hurts and I wanted to finish this damn painting yesterday. So take a deep breath, little pet, and let me take what I need from you.”

Of course she had to say it like that, and put herself so close to you. You’re pretty sure that your heart skips a few beats in response, though Cassandra doesn’t react beyond a hint of a smile, merely returning to her prep work. First step was cleaning your skin. Admittedly you hadn’t been sure if that step was necessary, seeing as the blood was (seemingly) for art as opposed to testing, but it didn’t exactly surprise you. Besides, there was a chance she’d drink the leftovers, right? Next she double-checked that the needle was properly connected to the blood bag, and that the latter was resting securely on a small stand. With that out of the way, it was time for her favorite part.

“Since your heartbeat has slowed down a little… I’ll let you whimper if you want to- but only once. Consider it a reward for good behavior,” Cassandra purrs with a familiar grin. One hand gently cups your chin, while her eyes look right in yours, just long enough to turn your cheeks bright red. The moment ends as quickly as it started. Before you know it she’s turned stoic again, feeling along your arm for a vein. This isn’t the first time you’ve had your blood drawn, but Cassandra takes no time at all to find the perfect spot, likely from a mix of practice and, well, her vampiric nature. It’s not long before she’s gently gripping your arm with one hand, briefly making eye contact before pushing the needle into your skin. Does it hurt? Hardly. Do you take a shaky inhale, hoping to please your employer, the closest to a whimper you were willing to give her? Oh, absolutely. And does she react? Oh, absolutely. Her eyes light up for a second as she bites her lower lip. There’s something else in her expression that you can’t quite read, however.

“Enjoying this, hmm?” You ask, smiling, voice soft in the hopes of not aggravating her headache. It’s a risk, and one that pays off more than you’d ever expect. Cassandra giggles a tad, eying you with the least mischievous smile you’ve ever seen from her. If not for the needle still in your arm, you might have found the moment charming, or even… romantic. But you pushed the thought away as soon as possible, reminding yourself of your one true goal: Escaping. This was a means to an end. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s what you had to keep telling yourself. Even as Cassandra ever-so-gently removed the needle from your arm, even as she carefully placed a bandage over the entry-point, even as she gave you a nod of approval.

“This should last until the painting is done, at the very least. I might need you to make another ‘donation’ next week, though. Except, hmm… your blood is quite nice,” Cassandra says. Her tone is smooth, almost sultry, but her gaze is focused on her work as she starts mixing the blood with… something? You weren’t familiar with this particular artistic process, nor did you want to be. “Maybe I’ll set up a nice schedule for you. Once a month you can be my darling little muse, and once a month you can be a refreshing snack. I’ll even make sure that my sisters don’t do anything that might spoil our fun. Assuming you continue to prove entertaining, that is.” You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or worried. In the end you settled for the former, chest thrumming with excitement as you felt yourself getting one step closer to your goal.

—————————

Three months pass by in an easy blur. Just as Cassandra had suggested, you find yourself in her company more often than before. Only twice a month does she take blood from you, for your own safety (which she pretends not to care about), but more and more you find her lounging around where you’re working, obviously by “pure coincidence”. Sometimes she even spoke to you! Teasing here and there, or asking you to do things that she normally did for herself, or scaring you just to hear you make one of your “lovely noises”. Honestly, you weren’t sure whether you were more surprised by how attached she had gotten to you, or by how quickly it had happened. Of course, you didn’t even know if she enjoyed your personality… or just your blood. Either way, you found yourself enjoying her presence more than you’d ever openly admit.

Eventually, when the benefits of your budding “friendship” became more clear, you started to enjoy it even more.

It was early in the morning, right when the castle residents tended to go to sleep, and when the night shift officially ended. Minutes prior you had been conversing quietly with Cassandra, dusting some shelves as you did. Now, with your duties done only slightly later than usual, you were making your way back to your quarters. Along the way you were caught off guard by the sound of distant crying. ‘Twas a sound you’d heard many times before, from many different maidens, but this time felt… different. An odd feeling of sympathy sparked in your chest, and you made the brash decision to approach the source of the noise. When you rounded that last corner, when you made eye contact with the trembling figure, you knew that your kindness could very well be the death of you. To think that you had once hoped for this encounter.

“Who’s there?” Bela Dimitrescu snarls through chattering teeth. She’s moving forward, phasing in and out of swarm mode, reaching a hand out to clutch at your throat. Well, you think, at least she’s stopped crying? More so out of being distracted, instead of feeling any comfort from your company. It’s not a terribly reassuring thought, but it’s soon replaced with a mental string of ???? as Bela pauses, grip loosening as she holds you up in the light. “You’re Cassandra’s new favorite. Damnit!” With that she drops you rather unceremoniously. Then she’s turning her back to you, sniffling before wiping the tears from her eyes. “Don’t tell anyone about this, or I won’t hesitate to string you up, no matter what my sister says. Now get lost.”

Except you can’t force yourself to move. There’s a small piece of you that remembers your original plan, another small part feels a twinge of sympathy, and a majority of your brain sees this as an opportunity. What was a little more risk?

“Would you like me to bring you some tea, Lady Bela?” You ask, attempting to keep your tone neutral, lest she think you were judging her. In response, she turns to look at you slowly, eyes narrowed, thinly veiled rage only outweighed by the remnants of her anxiety. Then she’s stalking forward with cautious, deliberate movements. For a moment she searches your eyes for any hints at your motive. Hoping to ease her worries, you elaborated on your offer, and the reasoning behind it. “I’ve read that holding something warm in your hands, like a mug of tea or coffee, relaxes the brain. I believe it had something to do with mimicking human touch?... Forgive me if I’m overstepping your boundaries, my Lady. I… I felt compelled to ask, to help in whatever way I can.”

“Oh?” Bela hums, the majority of the anger draining from her face. There’s a hint of genuine surprise behind her bright eyes. “Very well, if you say it might… help.” Before you can turn to leave, you hear her clear her throat, and say one last thing. “A little softer than I would have expected from a pet of Cassandra’s.” She certainly had a point. But you don’t bother responding, instead focusing on your self-given task. In the back of your mind, you wonder if you were really Cassandra’s “pet”, or if there was more to your dynamic. Why did you feel so weird about the idea of being a mere “distraction” to her?... Something to think about while you made that tea, you supposed.

—————————

When you assisted with serving lunch the next day, Bela refused to make eye contact, even as you set a plate in front of her, or when you refilled her wine glass. There was a stiffness in the room that you weren’t familiar with. For the most part, Cassandra is more welcoming, giving you a small nod when you meet her gaze. By the time the family is done eating and moves to leave, the sisters are grouping together to speak in hushed voices. While you clean up after them, you cannot help but wonder if they’re discussing the previous night, or if Bela was as adamant about keeping quiet as she had seemed. Regardless, you felt rather good about how the conversation had gone. Hopefully she’s feeling better, you think, surprising yourself. Not that it matters… unless she tells Cassandra, I suppose.

You don’t see her for the rest of the day. It’s a double-edged sword, in a way. On one hand, you find yourself missing her, unused to not interacting with her at all. On the other hand? All the sudden you’re realizing just how involved she’s become with you. Certainly that meant something? Progress towards your eventual goal of escaping? God, you sure hoped so. Thinking about the future, about your plans, lasts you the entire night, thoughts following you all the way into bed. Sleep feels a million years away, and you find yourself staring silently at the ceiling. Unmoving. Damn near unblinking. When there’s the sound of footsteps outside your room, you are more than welcome for the distraction.

“Wake up, little pet,” a voice calls, as your door opens, and someone quickly slips inside. Before you can even sit up, you feel them slide into the bed with you. “It’s too cold in my room. You’re much warmer, aren’t you?” Clearly your darling Cassandra come to entertain herself. Considering how late in the day it is, you feel like you should be upset, and yet you feel yourself daring to wrap your arms around her. For a moment she goes stiff, but she soon relaxes into your touch. “You’re getting so good at knowing what I want from you. Mmm, I think I’ve trained you well,” she teases, shifting onto her back so she can pull you onto her chest. Although you’ve been this close to her before, this is the first time you’ve realized just how cold her skin is. No wonder she wants to sleep with me, you think, blushing at your unintentional wording.

“Fuck, you’re freezing,” you mumble, curling up against her nonetheless. She’s laughing then, without any hint of her usual malice, and you can’t help but laugh with her. When had the two of you gotten so warm with each other? Why did it feel so natural? There’s anxiety gnawing at the base of your skull, threatening to build up into a headache, tugging you away from the softness of the moment. If Cassandra notices, she’s quicker to act than you would have expected. It feels safer to believe that her next actions are a coincidence. Feels… better, when you remember that you are playing her for cheap, that any friendliness is a mockery made for the most bitter of betrayals to come.

“That’s why I’m here, dear. Now hush, I need some rest. With how comfortable you are… I may even let you sleep in,” she teases, before pressing the gentlest kiss to the top of your head. Your throat dries up in response, blush overtaking your cheeks, and you are left unable to speak. The thundering of your heart seems to somehow lull your would-be lover to sleep, while you find yourself growing to love the contrast her chill provides. Somehow, someway, you end up sleeping more soundly than you have in years.

—————————

Another month passes. No opportunities to escape, no grand moves to make in this 4D game of chess, no clever plans to entangle yourself in. Yet you find yourself content. Happy. The work keeps you as busy as ever, but Cassandra often steals you away for her own desires. When she goes to drink your blood, she does so gently, with many soft kisses leading into the big moment. Afterwards she cleans your wound herself, touches as light as a feather, eyes sparkling with unspoken affection. At night, you find her coming to you for warmth almost every day. At first she provides little more than teasing excuses. But in time, she becomes more open, even being so bold as to kiss you on the lips every time, greeting you with quiet “dear”s and “darling”s. It gets to the poin that you cannot sleep without her presence.

Day after day, you find it harder and harder to remember why you were doing this. Was it so bad to enjoy your time with her? Was it so bad to find yourself leaning into her touches, kissing her back, gleefully awaiting your nightly rendezvous with her? Sometimes the thoughts were overwhelming, guilt and shame alike dancing inside your chest. Those days were the hardest to get through. Somehow, again and again, you go to her for comfort. To the very source of your conflict. Every last feeling was driving you towards an inevitable point. A conclusion written in stone, one that had been decided from the very first time Cassandra dug her fangs into your neck.

—————————

Screaming. Horrible, horrible screaming, somehow more pained than that of any maiden you had ever heard, echoing throughout the castle halls, achingly familiar in tone. You had never heard her scream before, and yet you knew that the sound came from Cassandra. Before you can even begin to process your realization, you are thundering through the corridor, towards the noise that rattled your mind so desperately. How could anything possibly hurt her? How often had you seen her push her siblings around, each of them taking hits that could break bones as if they were light shoves? As if the punches tickled? Horror overtakes your thoughts, imagination far worse than reality had any right to be.

When you at last reach your lover, you are frozen in your tracks, eyes wide as can be. There she is, howling with both rage and pain as someone repeatedly slams the butt of a rifle into her head. Behind the fighting duo is a sight you never thought you’d see: An open door. Wide open, enticing, leading straight into the world you had sought to rejoin. You want to leave. God, you want to leave so bad. This is what you have been waiting for- Cassandra has not even seen you yet, too busy grappling with her attacker, movements too slow to be normal. What was wrong? Why were her limbs such a strange color? Was that… frost on her clothes? Or… crystal? Your gaze flickers back and forth between her and the exit, as time seems to pause, memories of the past few months racing through your mind. Goddamnit, you think, this is what I want, isn’t it? Consequences be damned, right? I said I wouldn’t stop for anything.

And so you move, automatically, on autopilot, unable to think about anything other than what you treasured most: Cassandra. One moment you’re standing still in the foyer, the next you’re grabbing a poker from the fireplace. You’ve never done anything like this before, but the movements come naturally, as you surge towards the scrambling pair. In one swift motion you drive the metal rod into the skull of the intruder, hating the sound, hating the splatter of blood against your clothes, hating the feeling of resistance followed by a terrible, terrible give. But the man slumps almost immediately, allowing your girlfriend to shove him off of herself. Still unable to think coherently, you’re throwing yourself into her arms.

“Holy shit, holy shit, oh my god, I- I, fuck. Are you…? Fucking tell me that you’re okay, please,” you ramble, holding the dangerously cold body of your girlfriend close to you, refusing to let go. She’s crying, clinging to you as desperately as you cling to her. But she’s responding in the affirmative. Over and over, saying she’s okay, telling you that it’s okay. Before you know it, she’s the one comforting you.

“Hey, hey, look at me. Okay? Look at me, take a deep breath. If anyone should be freaking out it’s me,” she says, pulling back enough to cup your cheek with one hand. There’s blood on her fingers, making your eyes go wide, but she quickly wipes it off with a scowl. Then she’s caressing your skin again, soft repeating motions perfect for calming you down. “That’s right, see? We’re fine. You’re a fucking badass, darling, and honestly? It’s very attractive.” Now you’re both giggling, you a bit more than her. Because of course she’s flirting right now. It’s an incredible softness. One that you, quite frankly, do not feel you deserve. At first it’s a tiny voice in the back of your head, but it soon grows until it strikes the smile from your lips. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Shit, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, really,” you interject, as fast as you can, ignoring the tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Cassandra isn’t convinced, however, and gives you a pleading look. Knowing that you cannot resist her, you close your eyes, sighing, then admit your wretched truth. “The door. Cassandra, the door’s open. I… I came down the hallway and I saw the two of you and I saw the fucking door and I… I hesitated. I hesitated.” There’s a mighty tremble to your voice, teeth and lips shaking. In the moment, you cannot bring yourself to meet her gaze, eyes instead glued to the bloodstained floor. It’s so quiet that you swear you can hear your tears hitting the tile. The air around you is filled with a looming heartache, a shadow over the two of you, hungry for your tears. But the rage you anticipate from Cassandra never comes.

For fuck’s sake, she pulls you closer. She takes you in her arms, making you rest your head against her chest, one hand gently rubbing circles into your back. Shock makes you unable to do anything other than linger limply in her grip. Thankfully, she has more than enough words for the both of you.

“Of course you did. All you ever wanted was to escape, right? And all I ever wanted was to see how much fun I could get out of you before you betrayed us,” she admits, coolly, as if the words didn’t break both of your hearts. At first, you merely start crying harder, realizing that she had seen through you this whole time. Realizing that all of her softness had just been sharpness covered in sheep’s clothing. Except she’s not done talking. “Now look at us. Couple of idiots who caught feelings. So shut up, because we’re in this mess together, now, and I don’t intend to let you go, understood? You-” she pulls back, looking you right in the eyes- “are mine. Besides… you just killed for me. I think that more than makes up for any hesitance, yeah?” Before you know it you’re kissing her. You’re pressing yourself to her, smiling through your tears, forced to pause to laugh at yourself. How ridiculous had this whole affair been? How had you convinced yourself, for so long, that escape was all you had cared about?...

All this time you thought you wanted out. But at the end of the day… you just wanted to go home. How could you have guessed that you would have found a new home, here, in someone’s arms? Despite the surprise of it all… you couldn’t be happier.

[deeplyshalllow]

If you think that all Fiyero has in terms of characteristics in wicked, then I would encourage you to re-watch the musical because you've missed quite a lot! I'll give you that some of it's a bit subtle because he's not in very many scenes but we get quite a lot from him

- as you said he presents like he doesn't care when he does - I don't think that's that shallow a personality trait though? It leads to quite a lot of questions about why he is that way, what has made him, a boy who has come from even more privileged than Glinda, care so much more about the Animals and generally making the world a better place than her? Why has he felt the need to hide it? Is it some degree of childhood trauma (the San Francisco previews of the musical has him state that before Elphaba he didn't believe that love was real)? Is it an inability to make a difference? Does he have some learning difficulty like ADHD or dyslexia which has made him not very book smart so he felt better pretending not to care? It's also so wonderful to see how his interactions with Elphaba inspire him to make this change.

- he's incredibly smart, somewhat ironic given he becomes the scarecrow, but I think he's the most intelligent of the group! He basically runs act 2. If it was not for him, Elphaba would have been captured in the throne room (possibly Glinda too as she tried to help her escape), Elphaba would have been captured in the cornfield and Elphaba wouldn't have had the plan to fake her own death. Honestly, his girls would be lost without him! Elphaba inspires him to do good, but Fiyero is needed as her calm, to help her think before her actions and to keep her safe.

- he's the best politician of the group, he's the only one with any degree of impulse control, while both Elphaba and Glinda tend to react and think about consequences later, Fiyero takes a step back, works out what to do and what best to say to people to get what he wants, even if it means appearing on the wrong side. It's sort of sad that, after doubtless driving his parents mad by flunking school, he would have probably made an excellent king.

- morso in the movie than in the musical, but he's just incredibly kind! Unlike Glinda, he doesn't judge Elphaba by her skin colour, works out remarkably quickly that she's wearing a mask too and tries his best to get her out of it. He doesn't want her to change, or temper her feelings to fit with what is normal (like literally everyone else in her life) and loves her for exactly who she is. This is why he works so well with Elphaba, here's the only person, who will sit and tell her to be herself and mean it, he is the person who can tell her that she is valuable and is allowed to do stuff for herself, rather than just trying to help or please others. We also see in the musical, a concerted effort to make it up to Glinda after running away with Elphaba, he expresses straight after "as long as your mine" that he hopes someday they'll all make up and apologizes to her in the next scene.

I don't really think you get much less personality from Fiyero than Glinda really? I mean when you boil down Glinda's traits you get privileged and spoilt, somewhat spiteful but not overly unkind (though I would argue her initial befriending of Elphaba is almost as rushed as Fiyero's love for her), a very set plan of what she wants in life, a little impulsive, and cares a bit about doing good but not enough to uproot her own life.

You have to look slightly harder, but it's all there in the text, Fiyero is a nuanced character, with his own personality, ambitions and goals. They just tend to align with Elphaba's, as the two of them share such similar morals.

Also, I think it's a little unfair to say that Elphaba longing to be with Glinda as well, makes Fiyero any less important to her, considering she sung a whole song about how terrible her life was and that she was going to give up, when she thought Fiyero was dead!

Fiyerabas love to get on Twitter and tumblr and say stuff like “well fiyero would’ve went with Elphaba in a heartbeat” and act as if that’s a groundbreaking statement. We know what happens in act 2. We know he leaves everything behind for her. The reason why Glinda can’t do that is because she’s an actual nuanced character that has depth to her. She has something to lose. We see how she was brought up in the world. We know that she is a coward. Why WOULDN’T fiyero go with Elphaba? Nothing about his character is complex enough for that to be an option.

Fiyero’s whole character is built on a single characteristic (pretending not to care when he actually does) that is so underdeveloped it’s actually laughable. Why does he pretend not to care? There is not a single thing about him that actually tells us why he acts like that. It just comes out as him being an annoying jerk, even in the movie. His whole character arc is pretending not to care and then caring because of Elphaba. OF COURSE he’d go with her. That’s what his whole personality is based on.

Not to mention the fact that even with him being Elphaba’s ride or die, he’s still boring and his decision to be with her is incredibly unmoving. No one would expect anything else. And even with them ending up together, Elphaba still longs to be with Glinda. She still longs to tell her she’s alive. Fiyero is a boring annoying consolation prize that is a flat and undeveloped “what if” twist on Glinda if she wasn’t as much of a coward as she is. Idgaf

[tobeornottotc]

On Vegas and Porsche

Not going to lie, I've found out more about VegasPete's story especially Vegas's arc and I'm destroyed and in pain, and in tears because Vegas is a character that is really amazingly written, there's a reason for why when we first meet him in episode 2: it's 3 scenes. In these scenes his whole arc and focus on what makes him, him and foreshadows what his role is, his purpose is and why he does he what he does is exposed. The first one when he himself shows interest in Kinn's body guard, this is all about his on the surface ambition to find out about Kinn's weak spots and know his targets but also it foreshadows his future interactions and interests with KinnPorsche and his own desires and pain during those moments. We can see hints of him being the villain from that first intro, he's steeped in green ( a color of danger) and he is hidden, ominous in his order but that's why we don't see his face because it's a mask, it's not who he's really meant to represent in this show, yes he's a villain but there's more to this hate and obsession to over power his cousin. The next time we see him breaks me when we actually see his face for the first time, it's connected to Macau and his protection and anger for Macau getting hurt.

I've always said even before knowing what I know now, that Porsche and Vegas mirror each other in their 'introductions' when it comes to what their goal, story line and aim is. The protection and safety of their brothers from the environment that they're forced to adapt in. Porsche's tattoo is a call back to his mum no longer here ,leaving him with the weight of having to stay alive to protect his brother despite the fact that there are moments that Porsche admits himself to wanting to run away and give up and stop fighting, but for his brother he endures the pain he has and smiles and acts differently on the surface to be an emotional pillar. When we're first introduced to Porsche and what makes him, him, it's him comforting his brother and making him smile and letting him go to uni and achieve his dreams, working shifts and fighting and being strong to make sure his brother is protected and shielded.

Vegas is the same with Macau. And we are introduced to a hint of how that might be even though he's meant to be sneaky and cruel you can see when Macau is hurt, he runs into his older brother arms and seeks safety and care from him, and Vegas shows anger, and annoyance and protection. This already shows you who Macau feels safe and warm with, who he gets that from. This is one of his priority, this is very interesting how both him and Porsche both without a mother have brothers that are a bit more childish, and pampered by them despite how the environment looks. You can see that Macau feels spoilt and entitled, while Vegas is more focused on power, responsibility and ambition, and that's because like Porsche, Vegas has had to endure pain and loneliness, and fear to keep his brother safe and secure, and loved. To still feel confident and hopeful, and pampered despite the way their family is. Despite the fact that there are moments when Vegas wants to give up on everything, where he detests himself and also watches himself become cruel and a monster when he doesn't actually want to be.

Vegas like Porsche has no choice on his life; it's all about the protection of his little brother, and that's something that we are giving hints to in the episode he's introduced to. But instead of being an emotional pillar where he's smiley and funny and hides and pretends everything is okay, Vegas instead has to become a monster to protect his brother, he has to become cruel, lifeless, emotionless, and aggressive just to ensure his place isn't taken and his brother doesn't have to deal with the circumstances and consequences of failure, because there are consequences. And this leads to the last scene we see with him also foreshadowing what is causing his priority and ambition, his dad. His dad forces and gives him no choice in the matter to keep an eye on Porsche, even when he asks nicely, his father speaks to him cruelly. Vegas is seeking his father's approval and that's important, the green soaked background suggests the danger Kan possesses, and the fear in Vegas's eyes as well as the lifelessness in his eyes as he speaks to his father, the yearning in his voice as he calls him dad shows a little bit about their dynamic.

Kan is cold, cunning and cruel, he cares about power, and he cares about taking it and being aware of when it's being stolen. And Vegas is his pawn very similar to how Kinn is the pawn of his father. The scene is cold and the way it's filmed shows you how much their relationship is not filled with comfort and care and warmth but actually Vegas is forced to deal with this, but Macau doesn't seem like someone who has come from this environment, he's more loud, free, childish, he seems more protected and cared for and naïve maybe not innocent but definitely sheltered away from this energy, he runs to his dad when he gets hurt and he moans, and Vegas is the one tending to his wounds and looks frightened and worried. Vegas is the one with the responsibility like Kinn from a young age to make sure that their family goals are achieved, to protect his brother from having to deal with that, and Macau shows that he doesn't have any connection with this world of mafia, and cruelness, he's just an annoying kid that lies and is spoilt, and rich and selfish. He's snobby, he misbehaves and doesn't speak with caution to anyone. He's confident in his power but with a father like Kan; that's suspicious, because it means someone else was providing him that warmth and care instead, that ability to feel like he's protected enough and free enough to say whatever he wants, to cry and show vulnerability, and power, and to feel spoilt and that's Vegas.

The layers of Vegas that is about to happen in this show is crazy, so much to unpack with him, one thing for sure is that he's a monster yes, he's horrifying and out of his mind, he's greedy and cruel but he's not selfish, he's not narcissistic, he's not just doing this for himself, he's doing this like Kinn and Porsche because he has no freedom, and the freedom he's using like Porsche is ensure his brother gets the freedom and happiness and protection instead like Kinn with Thankhun and Kim. Vegas is a monster, but he's not heartless, and he was made to form this mask, this wickedness, this aggressive dark personality in order to protect the one dear to him at this moment, and Macau is very important, likewise he also seeks power to please the one who refuses to give any warmth and protection. He seeks power to find meaning to his life, and find ambition to keep going, he steeps himself in hate and revenge and anger towards the catalyst of his misfortune and suffocation, and he doesn't know how to stop, because if for some reason he has to stop he'll think his life is a waste. And that's important, people don't notice how lifeless Vegas is because he hides it in cruelty and all the act of a villain but he doesn't want to be in this world, he doesn't want to be alive, he doesn't want to be born in this situation he's in but unfortunately he can't escape because if he does, Macau is affected. So something to process and think about as you watch this show when seeing Vegas's arc. Because I'm damaged from knowing about his characterisation and I think he's one of the best written BL characters ever.

There's a reason why Porsche and Vegas find a bit of solace in their interactions, they mirror each other a lot, they have a very similar background kind of, in terms of responsibility, and goals, and choices. Vegas however had no light/ kindness or love in his choice, and Porsche had something that made him more human. It's fascinating their arc and their story. And I can't wait to see it be exposed on the surface.