#as an adult or even a teen you should be able to begin to form your own views and beliefs. don’t just go with what you’re told

[angelnumber27]

“For the most part, members of our species simply repeat what they are told and become upset if they are exposed to any different view”

-Michael Crichton, Lost World (1995)

[wewerebornsextuplets]

what would kenny say if he could see his family now? would he be happy at how far his daughter has come? would he feel pity for his wife, seeing how grief has changed her? would he still wish for his family to be together? (<- insane)

this ask is absolutely diabolical. i cannot thank you enough for giving me a chance to talk about kenny more in-depth. unfortunately most of this ended up being context for how he thinks + a bit of further exposition on mayumis relationship with her parents [since family is a big deal to kenny and well. yknow], so the actual answers are a bit further down but i hope this is still at least a little illuminating 👼

one thing thats important to know about kenny for this to make sense, is that he has some very strong values and beliefs surrounding the idea of family. while i wouldnt exactly describe these ideals as him being "family-oriented" in the traditional sense, its more like... okay. you know how older people, usually in their 50s and 60s, all seem to be capable of talking at length about That One Relative they despise, how they wish they could have nothing to do with them, because nothing good ever comes of it, but then they end their diatribe by going "well, they're still family, so i love them"? kenny's like that, hes committed to family to a fault. obviously there are still things that he would consider as going "too far" or irreconcilable when it comes tothis, but his tolerance for that is much higher than it probably should be.

to this point, i think even when he was still alive, he could tell that tears were beginning to form in the family dynamic that weren't solely caused by his inevitable passing. its not something ive discussed much here, but mayumi actually wasnt on very good terms with her parents before kenny got sick; she left home and started her career as a gravure model when she was 20 as a means of "sticking it" to her parents' more traditional wishes, and she was unhappy when she was living with them, but never actually did the work to figure out What was so wrong with the situation. as such, when kiru was born some years later, and she started to settle into life with kenny, she began to recontextualize her dissatisfaction with her parents' treatment of her as her just being a bratty teen. so, when kenny got sick, and she decided their best bet financially would be to move in with them, kenny agreed, though he viewed it as something of a necessary annoyance because hey, they're family.

even still, in the last year or so before he passed, the effects of living in the family home again paired with the inevitable realization that kenny was Definitely Gonna Die were becoming more and more apparent, primarily through how mayumi acted towards him and to kiru. he could tell she wasnt taking the process lightly at all, but part of him hoped that after his passing, she would be able to move on and mayumi, kiru, and her parents would be able to continue on as a family unit without him. he thought the bitterness between them and the cycle of mistreatment was just something theyd have to "work through" or "get over" because theyre Supposed to be close, though i dont think he ever said his out loud.

so, i think if kenny were to see the family structure now with full context, he would be pretty upset and confused that things didnt go quite as he'd hoped. i dont think he would blame them for going no-contact after the incident at christmas, but he would certainly be unhappy with the fact that things reached that point in the first place. there's a lot that he wished could have happened differently [esp. once kiru became an adult and left to live on her own, as well as some of the decisions made in the months following his death], though he was quite even-tempered + logical when need be, so i dont think he would really be able to find it in him to stay angry at either party for very long [though he'd certainly be mad about the concussion. physical harm is one of the aforementioned "okay even i think this is too much" bars for him wrt familial conflict, even though mayumi herself was also very freaked out by herself in this instance]

with mayumi as a person, more than anything i think he would just be very sad about her resignation to a life of isolation now that he's gone; he'd hoped that theyd be able to "get over" their differences and become closer now that circumstances were easier for them with him gone. but again, i dont think kenny really understood the full breadth of the emotional abuse mayumi endured, especially since mayumi herself never really came to grips with it. and having never endured that himself, he isnt able to wrap his head around the fact that its the sort of thing there isnt ever any "getting over". its a very naive take on family conflict, borne out of his own inability to really understand incompatibility in this sense + familial abuse due to his lack of experience with it. this same confusion and upset also applies to how things shook out with mayumi and kiru, though i think he was more understanding in this case since there was a physical aspect to it. but past that he just wishes mayumi could find it in herself to move on and meet new people, that she might be able to be happy again in spite of all of this. its a strange mix of pity, confusion and a tinge of anger.

as for kiru though... theres no question that kenny would be immensely proud of the person she is today. to put things into perspective here, he was born and raised on chichijima, and sickness aside, only ever left for long periods of time when he was attending college. he regards this as being the most difficult thing he ever had to do, and its a decision HE made! so for kiru, who went through so much more than that and made the move at a much younger age than him, to STILL come out on top with a doctorate and a nice job? that on its own is enough of a feat in his eyes. but past that i think he would also be very proud of the kind of person she is, since she really is just such a sweetheart and is incredibly level-headed. he'd be very very happy that she managed to do so well for herself even after all that went on, and that she managed to find such a wonderful group of friends who love her [joblessness aside. though i dont think he'd really gaf if we're being honest]... and furthermore i can see him really liking her and keiko as a couple HEHE

furthermore, i imagine kenny would be pretty happy that kiru at least stayed in contact with SOME family on her mom's side, since again, hes still quite family oriented in a strange roundabout way. he would definitely be confused as to why it was yanagida of all people, since they didnt visit one another very frequently before the move and always seemed to be bickering with each other After they moved, but hes happy nonetheless

[veetyuh]

Vent post to ramble about intersex issues.

Honestly I'm just now starting to feel intersex on an emotional level, despite having known for years. It has taken so much time to start working through the shame and sense of powerlessness built up over a decade, because the medical system is so fucking violent toward intersex people for NO reason.

Beyond forced "corrective" surgery — that's the big one everyone is aware of. Allowing parents to force their newborn through a sex change. Literally doing the hyperbolic conservative's worst nightmare about trans people and everyone's just fucking fine with it. But aside from that.

Since I was a sweaty, awkward teen with a five o'clock shadow, I've been told, "FEMALE‼️ DEFECTIVE FEMALE‼️ YOU WANT SURGERY FOR BABY⁉️ 👶 WE WILL GIVE YOU SURGERY FOR BABY, AND MAYBE HORMONES TO MAKE YOU LESS MANISH‼️"

I've told my doctor, my parents, any adult who asked, point blank, I never want children and would rather drink bleach than incubate one. But it's always, "You're still young, you might want that option in the future." As if I'm not enthralled with my infertility, as if pregnancy is the end goal of every female, as if I'm female to begin with.

And the shame of being classed as a disorder. One that so few doctors have seen that specialists have treated me like a lab experiment, and one even asked me to induce menstruation and come in while I'm bleeding so he can poke around. AFTER admitting that he didn't know what was going on down there. Just. "I'll have to refer you to a different specialist, but can you come in while you're bleeding so I can see what happens between your legs when there's ✨blood✨ involved?"

Or staring at the M/F boxes on ANY intake form, trying to decide which one is less humiliating. What kind of comedic relief do I want to be perceived as: a femboy who is uncommitted to the aesthetic, or a comedically masc woman like Doris from Shrek? I can count the number of times I've seen "other" or "intersex" listed as an option on one hand. And I can't describe the relief of being able to check it. It's beyond words, just to be fucking acknowledged — to have any sort of implication that my existence isn't supposed to be something else, and that my natural state is not fucked-up, or a failure.

But why is it okay for a doctor to push gender "correction" onto any intersex person, minors included, then turn around and act like trans healthcare is such a big fucking deal?? It's okay to shove progesterone into my hands despite me NOT FUCKING WANTING IT, but god forbid any transfemme person asks for it. Moreover, god forbid I ask for top surgery. It's fine for them to change my sex on my behalf, so long as fertility is the end goal: but if I want to modify my body on my own terms, then it's, "Are you sure??? Are you SURRRRE about that???"

God I HATE the medical system, I hate the insistence on a false two sex binary, and I hate troglodyte conservatives who harp on about middle school biology because they're mentally stunted and permanently at the age of 12 — when they're the same ones that bullied me in middle school so they should KNOW intersex people exist.

I miss being pre-pubescent, going into the doctor's office and knowing that my pediatrician had my best interest at heart. Even if it was shots, or gross medicine, or whatever, I knew that it was for healing me, and I could at least trust that. Now I go into a doctor's office and it feels like a fucking warzone, fight-or-flight is engaged, and I can't help but question their intent.

But the few moments when I do feel intersex? When I don't feel like a defective perisex person? It's beyond description. Being able to have a box to check off. Seeing descriptions of intersex people in history, and knowing that we used to have a place in society. When shame has been beaten into you, having it removed even for a second is a joy beyond words. 🥲

[mommalosthermind]

Hey Book Mom, saw your post about kids. What's your thoughts on a parent who refuses to let their child close their bedroom door?

Haaaaaa, okay. Potential warnings for self-harm, and abuse in general, I guess.

Refusing the allow a door to be shut is about the same as removing the door entirely at the arbitrary whim of the supposed adult in the house: that’s abuse.

I will, however, readily admit there are instances where privacy in the form of a door is something that’s actually not great for the kid. I kicked down my sister’s door more than once during our teen years, because I knew she’d locked herself in there to hurt herself. There’s no right answer in that case: she was going to hurt herself regardless of where she was—but our mother taking away her door in a half-brained attempt to make her ‘just stop already’ made her worse.

Because it took away the little bit of “just for me” that she needed in a household that was. Not fucking great.

But that’s, as I’ve discovered, an extreme case and not like, a run of the mill experience.

The entire point of parenting is to help the brand new person you forced into existence learn how to be a decent, self-sufficient and an as well-adjusted as you can manage given your circumstances. Step fucking one is to treat them like real, living, complicated human beings with thoughts and emotions and needs rather than weird wind-up dolls that refuse to obey. Which is a really, really long way of saying your child should feel safe with you in the house. Your child should be able to trust you.

By refusing to allow a child the ability to shut a door—or to have a door—you are making that child feel unsafe. You’ve fucked up like, most of that list all in one go. The child can’t trust you, can’t relax, can’t decompress, can’t begin to work through their own mental mess, because they’re hyper aware of being treated akin to an animal in a zoo with the supposed adult being the tittering judgemental gawker ambling by 50x a day. You’ve ensured that kid is going to get better at hiding things, and they’re going to start doing it in less and less safe ways than their goddamn room, which is no longer a place to Be.

Especially since people who pull this stunt are also the people who stand in the doorway and just. Devalue or belittle everything in the kid’s space. “Why isn’t it clean, why do you have x y z over there, why are you reading that, why are you doing this, are you ever coming out of there, you don’t get to be angry about this get over it, stop sulking, lulz you still hold a teddy?—“ that’s why teens tend to hibernate, y’all. Let them fucking exist without your commentary. You’re not being cute, you’re making them feel small, and teaching them to hide even the littlest of joys.

Now you’ve got a kid who’s feeling trapped, impotent, so angry they’re shaking type of betrayed, and again: unsafe.

And they know you don’t trust them at all. They know you don’t even see them as a person, because you wouldn’t treat anyone else the way you treat them. They know they’re alone, and you’re the enemy. They don’t have anything they can rely on, anything that’s away, not even their own bed.

I know adults think that taking the door is somehow going to magically help, and it’s usually people who’ve never lived in that situation. Like. Honestly. They’ve invented some strange world where being hash and cruel is the only way people learn, but all that teaches anyone is to hide. To withdraw. To develop even worse ways of handling whatever’s wrong because the better option was removed.

And I’m going to say it again: if your friend was a dick, would you treat them like that? Would you treat your co-worker like that if they were rude, or hiding things, or whatever it is that made the adult go full power-trip? No.

If you’ve got a concern with your kid, talk to them. Be open about shit. Keep an eye on them as needed. But for the love of fuck, do not take away one of the few things they’ve got in their life that’s supposed to be theirs.

I am no saint. I’ve got miles of issues I’ll be working through till I’m dead. I wish I was a better parent, because my kids deserve it. I fuck up, I apologize. I have concerns, I talk to them. They fuck up, we talk about it. They choose to fuck up repeatedly, there are consequences—and a consequence is not a fucking punishment. I’m not a prison guard. Equivalent consequences was a huge thing when they were tiny, and now that they’re older and the problems are more ‘the 11yr old was watching YouTube at fucking midnight and lied about it’ those repercussions are things like ‘no screens at all for several days’ style of shit. Talking rude and being shitty when they’re angry? They’re giving me back to me, and I know getting meaner ain’t gonna do anything but make them double down. I walk off. They go to their room to breathe. We come back and talk about when we’re less mad.

I’ve taken things away from them, yeah. Toys, screens, the ability to roam the neighborhood.

I’m never going to take the fucking door away. They deserve better. They Need That. They need to know I love them, even when we’re upset. I trust them, I respect them, I see them as people, no matter what.

Hell, I’m doing the opposite, and trying to build a room in the basement so my sons get their *own* doors, because they need and deserve space from each other.

Anyway. A huge amount of typical American parenting is straight up abuse and I’m very over it.

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hello, 16yo girl here. I had been questioning what my MBTI type was between ENTP and INTP for quite a long time - I had known that Ti and Ne were always at the top of my stack, but not which one was stronger... until yesterday, when I reflected back on my sheltered upbringing and I came to the conclusion that I was an ENTP, just one with very marked introvert tendencies and possible developmental delays due to combination of a stifled dominant function and possibly autism.

That stifling of Ne is also probably why I have only become more reclusive as time went on - I spent most of my time as a child either at school, the same small private school I've been going to since 1st grade, or at home, mostly on my computer. While in the surface my time on the internet allowed me to have easy access to novelty, it is still doing the same thing over and over again on a grander scale.

Meanwhile, I never managed to truly "fit in" at school, and after starting to make amends with my old friends at the end of sixth grade the pandemic happened, which pretty much meant that the only thing I'd be doing for two years was basically staring at screens all day. Once I returned back to school, I started feeling 'othered' again, and even as I found out it was partially over my own immaturity, I still feel like I will not actually become part of the group right now, that I should just grind it out until it ends, that college, due to the new environment and size will be the time I'll truly begin to shine - further proven by how excited I was when I went to one of the unis I was considering's open day recently.

Meanwhile, my ISTJ mother won't stop comparing me negatively to my brother and on how he was so similar to her in personality compared to me, always implying that I turned out "off" in some way or another, even if she's usually well-meaning.

Thoughts?

-----------------------

I don't guess at type. You've only speculated about one possible function, which is nowhere near enough info to draw any kind of sound conclusion. I generally won't comment on type assessment unless people follow the instructions on the contact page to submit a proper profile of themselves. In short, I won't have any "thoughts" if you don't give me enough to analyze.

You've basically described typical adolescent adjustment issues that anyone of any type can suffer. It is not uncommon for teens to have trouble fitting in. Why? Because they are still in the process of learning good social skills. When you're at the "beginner" level of learning anything, your ideas tend to be very primitive or crude. Thus, from the teenage perspective, socializing often boils down to the idea of "approval", which is taken to mean EITHER be like everyone else OR be an outsider.

Either/or thinking is a form of illogical thinking that creates a false dichotomy, essentially reducing your world to only two possibilities. You said that not being able to find your group right now, maybe it would be better to just leave it until college - once again, your world only has two possibilities. This kind of oversimplified thinking is normal in children and teens, but it is considered a sign of cognitive immaturity in adults (as their thinking hasn't evolved since adolescence). It's not something for you to be concerned about but, rather, something to be aware of and gradually improved upon.

When compared to full-formed adults, young people (<25) are limited in several ways:

They lack life experience, so they haven't had enough time to learn all the knowledge and skills they need to live life well.

They lack cognitive resources to understand complexity because the brain hasn't reached physical maturity yet.

They lack emotional resources to cope with difficulty because the brain is still feeling the effects of changes that began in puberty.

They might also lack confidence due to too many environmental factors being out of their control.

They might also lack direction due to not having access to enough learning resources they need for self-development.

They might also lack purpose due to not having enough access to positive role models, guides, or mentors to help them see the bigger picture of life.

I mention these things not to make teens feel shamed and ashamed for what they naturally lack, but to make them aware of where their potential lies. Your "weaknesses" are just as important for realizing your greater human potential as your "strengths". Weaknesses make plenty of room for learning, development, change, growth, evolution, and transformation... BUT this is assuming you know how to confront weaknesses in the right way. So, reflect: How have you responded to your weaknesses, as signaled through your mistakes and failures?

How do you respond to lack of life experience? Do you keep it that way by locking yourself away? Do you waste your time with trivial experiences? Do you seek out meaningful learning experiences?

How do you respond to lack of cognitive resources for understanding complexity? Do you just reduce everything into oversimplistic ideas? Do you avoid complex situations? Do you study them to grow your understanding? Do you get help for understanding them?

How do you respond to lack of emotional resources for handling difficulty? Do you numb yourself? Do you run or escape from negative feelings? Do you seek appropriate help and support? Do you set out to learn healthy coping skills and strategies?

How do you respond to lack of confidence? Do you shit-talk yourself more and more? Do you write off your future? Do you assert more independence? Do you take more control whenever possible? Do you improve your knowledge, skills, and capabilities?

How do you respond to lack of direction? Do you give up on yourself? Do you resign yourself to the status quo? Do you learn how to make better decisions for yourself? Do you learn how to set and achieve more fulfilling goals?

How do you respond to lack of purpose? Do you settle for less? Do you resign yourself to being small? Do you ignore existential pain? Do you seek answers? Do you set higher aspirations? Do you commit yourself to greater ideals?

Adjustment issues are very likely to get expressed through auxiliary development problems. Since you're unsure about your type, the most I can say is that healthy Ti encourages people to 1) analyze and learn from mistakes/failures, and 2) identify and acquire the knowledge/skills required to eventually succeed. If your response to failure is dismissal, evasion, withdrawal, or avoidance, it means you are choosing to get stuck at a low level of competency indefinitely.

If you are able to get past the beginner level in socializing, you'll start to realize the false dichotomy and how self-sabotaging it really is. Socializing is much more nuanced and complex than "insider vs outsider", and there are more options available than "conform vs rebel". This raises the question of what other options are available to you - it is a question for your Ne to answer.

Yes, it's true that you can't be friends with everyone. But you don't need to be friends with everyone, do you? You only need a handful of close friends who understand you in order to have a satisfying social life. They don't have to come from school or the usual places. They can come through other activities. They can come from all demographics or backgrounds.

Growing up in a small environment puts you in danger of thinking too small all the time. The key is you have to recognize that the world is a big place, so you have to start putting yourself out there to find the friends of best fit. The more people you meet, the more you increase your odds of success. Whether you try now or later isn't the right point to focus on. You're not going to find what you're looking for as long as: you don't actually get up to look, you have absolutely no system or plan for proceeding, and/or you don't have the skills to keep relationships even when you do find good people. You need real-life social experience if you want to improve your social skills. The sooner you get started, the better. It's unrealistic to think that you'll magically be great at relationships just because you started college.

I know options can be limited at your age but 16 is generally the age when teens really start to venture out into the world on their own (without parents/guardians). In many places, you can drive and work at 16. You can start exploring places you've never been to around town. You can join more extracurricular activities/clubs that would put you in contact with people beyond your school. I shouldn't have to tell an ENTP to go out and explore, as you should simply follow your natural Ne motivation. If that motivation is absolutely nowhere to be found, then perhaps reconsider your type.

[ashes-0f-phoenix]

Tumblr vent post? Long time no see

So does anyone remember when I was on here like 5 years ago, making several long emotional text posts daily?

Whatever. I'm writing here because all other social media sites would pull down the blinds of my account for what I want to talk to the void about today.

I recently had the first foray into self harm of my adult life. Many forms of it accompanied me through my teen years but it transitioned into bulimia and substance abuse over the years. I'm 19 now and I couldn't remember the last time I cut myself even if I wanted to, its been years. Until last week. I've lost a lot of very important people lately. 90% of the people in my life I lost over the past year, and then two of the closest in the past month. I felt powerless and burdensome and angry at myself, so I got my hands on some blades and relapsed pretty seriously. It took less than a minute to regret it, but unfortunately most of them went deep enough to eventually join my catalogue of scars.

Since then, I've been contemplating how different it feels to be a self harmer as legally an adult. It is more bitter, than anything.

As a minor, the defining feature was the fear factor. Hiding. School nurse checkups, child protective services, court mandated therapy, forced hospitalizations. Now it is more humiliating, like I should know better, I should make more responsible decisions about permanent features of my body (ffs, I do tattooing, I should know this), I should beg a doctor to check me in to a hospital maybe but I don't have time since I have to go to work? The shame of loss of credibility, like the little grey dot next to my mental health status turned green again and I'm no longer allowed to speak of my recovery and give advice and be as respectable. Feeling ridiculous that I'm sad about not being able to hook up with anyone because of the awkward questions, as if that was a priority... Needing to treat my breakdown as unserious because until I'm able to do my daily tasks and duties, I'm still a functioning adult. And if you are a sick child, you are a child, you don't have rights to begin with - but if you are a sick adult, you have so many to lose. And isn't it so convenient that nobody is forcing me to acknowledge my issues anymore anyway.

I don't like consequences, especially not those of my own actions

[magicdreemurr17]

Chapter 8.5: "Sweet Beginnings"

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The sound of splashing puddles echoed through the caverns of Waterfall as Red continued to give chase to that pesky mutt. It still firmly clenched her sword in its mouth as it seemed to trail further and further away. That stupid dog always seemed to run way faster, even when it ran at the same pace as the person chasing it. Luckily for her, it left a trail of Dog Residue in its wake, enabling her to stay on top of its whereabouts.

Those humans got real lucky that this annoying dog stole my sword, she thought.

The hooded monster worried how far they would get through the Underground now that she was forced to get sidetracked, but she shook those concerns away almost immediately. No matter how determined they were to escape, the humans would never get past Undyne. Few of them ever did, and the only two who managed to get past her died anyways.

Red turned the corner, only to find the little canine had suddenly vanished without a trace. She looked puzzled, eyeballing the path of abandoned Dog Residue to find its trail stopped at the wall, but with no notable escape hatch or anything of the sort. Not even a doggie door.

That's weird, she thought.

An idea began to formulate in her head as she knocked on the barren wall curiously. Red's suspicion was verified when the sound of a hollowed echoed from within. There was definitely some sort of open space hidden behind there; a secret chamber perhaps.

"Well, there's no choice..." she muttered in frustration, taking out a single bomb and stepping back a fair distance.

Red threw the explosive without hesitation, hoping to blast through the wall with brute force, but something strange happened in response. Instead of exploding on impact, the bomb was... absorbed into the cavern wall, leaving only a peculiar ripple and causing the hooded monster noticeable distress.

"W-What the..-?!"

Before she could try again, the ripple started to increase in wavelengths, making the distortion waver and fade into a new form. What materialized from Red's obstruction appeared to be a simple-looking, grey door. Her eyes widened as she reached for the doorknob, her hand shaking a bit as she turned it ever-so slightly, just to open and peek inside. The room behind the door was rather... indescribable. There was no floor, no wall, no ceiling... you couldn't really see much, if anything at all. There was no light, no sound, no detail... not a speck of intricacy in the layout of the chamber. It was just barren and lifeless in the scariest way possible... an empty void.

Just then, a sudden 'yip' caught Red's attention as her eyes laid on the same white dog she had been in pursuit of this whole time. It was wagging its tail and panting ridiculously, the sound beginning to echo through the emptiness and making Red's ears twitch painfully underneath her hood. This carefree mutt had stolen its last chew toy.

"There you are! Give me back my sword!" she demanded, stomping her foot angrily, but it seemed to unfaze the mischievous canine.

"Toby, is that you? What's up?" asked another voice suddenly, making the hooded monster jolt slightly as she turned up to the sound of echoing footsteps approaching. She got into a rather defensive stance despite being down one weapon to defend herself, looking around for the source of the voice when a silhouette appeared in her peripheral vision. The figure was about average height given the voice she heard, (she figured they were in the teen to young adult range), and they adorned a purple cloak, hiding most of their distinguishable features underneath a hood much like her own. The only thing Red could see from them at this distance was a pair of icy blue eyes that looked almost harmless.

"Oh! We have a guest?" the new figure acknowledged, inquiring Red's presence curiously, "That's odd, nobody should be able to access the Void other than us... wait, can you even see or hear me? Please, wait just a moment..."

With a snap of their fingers, the stranger filled the empty room with a dim light coming from who knows where. It gave off just enough light so Red could see the stranger's face face underneath their cloak. It was a girl. She had pale, alabaster skin and wavy, platinum blonde hair with messy bangs, but that was to be expected given she's probably worn that hood over her face for a while... however, to Red, the most disturbing feature about this person was what she was. She was no monster... she was a human.

"Y-You're..-" Red stammered.

"What are you doing here..?" another voice spoke up.

The human turned to the source of the voice as Red gasped, both of them noticing the rather tall skeleton monster standing a few feet away, behind the human. He wore a very long, black trench coat, which almost melted into the ground he stood on. In fact, his whole body seemed rather unstable, despite looking (at the very least) mostly presentable. On the edges of his eyes, he had cracks stretching in opposite directions, down from his left socket and up from his right. He gave off a rather intimidating aura, but he wasn't the only one who she could sense through the dark, as in the far corner from where they stood was another unusual presence, this one a bit more threatening. Their aura had remnants of a cold and distant individual, but she couldn't clearly make out who or what it was coming from. All she could see were a pair of blood red eyes glaring at her from the darkness.

"Oh dear... Toby, did you steal her sword and drag your new friend all the way over here..?" asked the human that 'greeted' Red first, kneeling down beside the little dog as she wagged her finger scoldingly, "Naughty Toby... It's not nice to steal others's belongings. If you wanted a free toy, I could've just given you one myself," she held out one hand to the Annoying Dog, "now come on... be a good boy and drop the weapon. Please, Toby?"

To Red's further astonishment, the dog actually listened to the human, spitting the sword carefully out into the palm of her hand and barking in acknowledgement before scampering off into the void. The cloaked human scowled slightly by the faint glistening of doggie drool on the blade's handle and pulled out a handkerchief from... wait, she pulled it out of thin air? Red eyeballed the leggings that the human was wearing, now that she could see thanks to the light that was provided to her. She didn't appear to have pockets, so where did she get the handkerchief?!

Do I even want to know? Red asked herself. Oddly enough, when the thought crossed her mind, the skeleton standing behind the human seemed to eyeball her, as if he knew what Red was thinking.

After wiping the blade clean of Toby's slobber, the human flicked the handkerchief magically out of existence (to Red's further astonishment) and got up from where she was kneeling, walking over to the hooded monster with a soft smile as she held the sword out in both hands. Red flinched slightly and jumped back a bit in surprise, her whole body quivering from the anxiety of the situation. This human that stood before her looked like that other one; the aggressive human she encountered back at Snowdin with a bad attitude, but at the same time, there were notable differences between the two... namely their eye color, the lack of glasses on this one, and a clear different sense in fashion. Their skin tones and hair color were also slightly different, but these differences were more subtle than the aforementioned examples.

"I'm really sorry about Toby," the human began, apologizing on the Annoying Dog's behalf, "he's not a bad dog by any means. Being mischievous is just his way of making new friends. I hope he hasn't caused you any inconveniences."

This girl was... being nice to her..? Was she out of her mind? Was she playing some kind of sick game with her? Well, she wasn't going to play along. With a low growl in the back of her throat, Red snatched her sword out of the human's hands, earning her a shocked gasp. She gripped the handle of her blade tightly and shut her eyes as she plunged the sharp edge into the human's abdomen, nailing her right in the gut.

That should do it, humans are generally weak in that area of their bodies, Red thought.

There was a tense silence, but her ears twitched when she heard the third presence in the back let out a low scoff.

"Idiot..." he muttered, "your attack didn't do anything."

She opened her eyes to the blow she dealt, appalled to find that no blood was staining her sword or the human's clothes. She pulled her blade back, only to see the human's body waver and distort back to its natural structure, as if her attack simply passed through her, like if she were a ghost. Red panicked and tried to stab her once again, but the same process just repeated itself. Her attacks fazed right through the human, leaving her completely untouched by the Red's slashes.

W-What's going on!? Red's mind panicked, unable to fully process what was happening before her own eyes.

"... So, do you want your sword back..?" the human questioned, a confused look on her face, "I'm getting very mixed signals here..."

Red stared up at those icy blue eyes in horror, but the skeleton behind them stifled a laugh, holding one hand over his mouth to hide an amused grin creeping onto his features. Red took a step back, her hand that was wielding her weapon noticeably shaking, which elicited some concern from the cloaked human. Before she could say any more ridiculous things, Red turned and bolted out the grey door.

"Wait! Don't leave!" the human called out.

Red ignored her words and just kept running, completely mortified by what she just saw. Her attacks passed right through a human! A human who just magically made items appear in the palm of her hand by sheer willpower, and bent the Annoying Dog to her will too! The Annoying Dog, an infamous little mutt across the Underground, who was so unruly that not even King Asgore could get it to listen!

She called it 'Toby'... What was up with that?! Red pondered, And those other two with her, especially that skeleton... I thought Papyrus and Sans were the only skeletons left in the Underground! Why would a monster even be trying to hide a human from us?! We only need one more soul to break the barrier! And that other presence i sensed, were they human or monster too? Why were they there? Why were any of them there? Who were they?!

She turned the corner while she was lost among her thoughts, accidentally bumped into someone and falling backwards onto the ground, hissing as she rubbed her forehead gently. Judging by the force of the impact, she could tell the person she bumped into was wearing armor. That was definitely going to bruise later, but hopefully not too badly. Judging by the force of the impact, she could tell the person she bumped into was wearing armor. No wonder her head hurt...

"Woah, Red? What are you doing out here? I thought I had you stationed in Snowdin with the canine squad!" said the person she bumped into, their voice recognizable anywhere in the Underground.

Red jolted and turned upwards, locking eyes with the captain of the Royal Guard herself, Undyne.

"Undyne! Undyne! You gotta come quickly! There's a human living in our walls!" she exclaimed in a hurry, yanking at the captain's arm with her free hand. She probably sounded like a yippy little chihuahua, but she didn't care. What was important was getting some help in getting that human's soul, the last soul they needed to get out of this miserable place they called a 'home'. Undyne was just the person she could get that help from.

The word 'human' definitely caught the fish monster's attention though, as her eye widened significantly, "WHAT!? Where is it hiding!?"

Red put her sword away as she grabbed the captain's wrist and tugged at her to follow. Getting the message quickly, Undyne rushed through the damp caves as the smaller monster scampered ahead of her, leading her back to where she had found the strangers living in that empty void. To her surprise and Undyne's bewilderment, the grey door was not present anymore. Instead, it was back to looking like a regular cave wall.

Oh no you don't. You're not getting away from us this time, Red thought, reaching for her bombs again.

Undyne didn't seem to catch on to the younger monster's plan, tilting her head in concern, "Uh, what are you up to, R..-?"

Before the fish woman could finish her sentence, Red tossed her bombs at the wall again, hoping to expose the grey door like she did before, but instead of absorbing the projectiles, the wall remained normal as her bombs exploded upon impact, causing cracks to form in the walls and make the chamber very unstable. Sensing imminent danger, Undyne snatched Red by the wrist and pulled her out of the way as some incoming rocks crumbled from the ceiling. She pierced through the smaller chunks with her spear and rushed into the adjacent room, which luckily was unaffected by Red's little stunt.

"What the hell were you thinking!?" she shouted after putting Red down in front of her, "That hallway was already in bad enough shape with how unstable those walls are! It would've collapsed on its own without your help!"

"There was a hidden door behind that wall! That's where I found the human, I swear!" Red protested, eliciting Undyne to roll her eye at her claims.

"Yeah, alright. Sure." she replied halfheartedly, sounding sarcastic as she gently knocked her on the head a few times, "You sure you didn't hit your head too hard when you bumped into me? Maybe you ate too many Cinnamon Buns today..."

"I did not!" Red whined, "I'm telling you! I saw one there!"

"Uh huh," the guard captain walked by her quietly, waving off Red's whimpering, "call me when you actually find a human and not just an imaginary one in the wall, yeah?"

With a disgruntled scowl, Red watched Undyne leave without another peep. It was so frustrating that she still treated her like a little kid.

I wish she would just acknowledge me as another member of the..-

"I don't know whether I should count myself lucky or unlucky for this..." said a sudden and familiar voice, "I suppose it's both. I'm glad I don't have to watch her attempt to skewer me on her spear."

Red snapped out of her thoughts and almost leaped to the ceiling in surprise when she turned to find the strange human from before standing just a few feet away. She was standing right next to her. She was right there. How did Undyne not notice it!?

"Undyne! Undyne, come back! The human is right here!!" She shouted in alarm, running in circles like a panicked dog.

"Yeahhh, about that...'' she laughed awkwardly, clearing her throat, "She can't see me, little friend. Trust me, it's not like I haven't tried, but I just faze right through her. It's probably for the best, though. I'd hate to be in another awkward situation."

This only seemed to concern Red even more as she growled, "Don't call me little! You can't be real... There's no way. No human would still be standing after taking multiple stabs to the gut! You have to be a figment of my imagination!"

"Oh, I assure you, I'm very real. It's just that you're the first monster outside of the Void who can actually interact with me. I never imagined this was a possibility..." she inquired thoughtfully.

"How can you be so calm about this!? You're a human! We're supposed to be enemies!" the little monster snarled.

"I mean, we don't have to be." she replied, "We could be friends instead."

Red scoffed, "Hah! Yeah, right. Like I'd ever be friends with a human. You're the scum of the Earth. Just because there's millions of you guys, you act like you own everything. Your kind treats us like dirt, and you want us to be friends!? What kind of sick human joke is that?!"

Oddly enough, Red got caught off-guard when she noticed how sad the human looked when she vented her frustrations, especially so when she made the comment about her wanting to be friends was just a twisted joke. With a heavy sigh, the hooded human suddenly materialized something from thin air again, which grasped Red's attention immediately: a Cinnamon Bun. The short monster stared at the sweet delicacy with extreme interest, tempted to just rip it from her grasp, but there was a hint of hesitation in her eyes. Was it even real? Could she eat it? If she could, was it poisonous?

"I guess when you put it that way, humans really are despicable," she admitted, "but not every human is bad. The way I see it, humans are a lot like robots... when first brought into the world, we have what you could call a natural setting 'wired' into our brains that makes us start off good... however, under certain circumstances, we are encouraged to do more bad things based on what we are shown or taught by those who influence our decisions or our lives, and because of those influences, we can malfunction... in a sense."

Red glared up at her, "That's a terrible analogy and an insult to robots. The robots I know are nothing like your kind."

"It's the only comparison I can think of," she defended, a hint of disappointment in her tone, "with how most humans act, given what I've seen, I'm surprised there's so many of them still alive today."

Red's ears perked up under her hood. She sensed resentment and sadness behind those words, not just because of the human's tone and body language, but also the feelings that festered deep within her soul. It was no illusion or manner of deception. Those were her real feelings.

It doesn't matter, Red continued to tell herself, genuine or not, she's still a human... our enemy. Her feelings should be irrelevant, regardless if she agrees with me or not.

She heard a quiet laugh emit from the human as she turned up to look at her. She was smiling softly at her again. That same sickening smile that Red was beginning to hate so much. It was just so... innocent. How could anyone look so stupidly naive?

"You're stubborn, aren't you..? I can tell with how your face contorts when you're lost in thought..." she inquired, holding the Cinnamon Bun in her hand in front of Red before dangling it close to her own mouth as if to take a bite out of it, inciting a horrified gasp from the shorter monster.

"No! Stop it! Gimme!" Red pleaded, whimpering desperately as she started jumping up and down for the treat.

She giggled and held out the untouched sweet to her new companion, "Here."

Without a second of further hesitation, (mostly because she didn't want to run the risk of it being eaten by something else), Red snatched the delicacy from the human's hand and ripped into it like a rabid animal. The flavor of it practically melted in her mouth. It tasted just like any other Cinnamon Bun she'd eaten: perfection to her palette. As always, Cinnamon Buns were her favorite food.

Just then, she felt a hand rest atop her head gently. She turned up to find the human, stroking her like someone to their pet dog. She was petting her with a strange gentleness, almost as if she feared breaking Red with her simple headpat. Red felt her tail wagging underneath her cloak, whipping back and forth with the pets she received. The joy it made her feel was indescribable, but she still felt a tinge of insecurity at the knowledge of the touch coming from a human. It just didn't feel right, given she tried to kill this human moments ago.

"If you'll give me a chance, I'll reward you with more Cinnamon Buns..." she reminded Red of that strange ability to materialize items from thin air. How she could do such a thing was beyond her comprehension, but if it meant more free Cinnamon Buns...

"That being said," she continued, "You'd have to use my gold to go out and buy them for yourself majority of the time, since I won't always have them in my inventory."

"What?" she looked up at the hooded human in confusion.

"Don't worry about it. I'll explain at another time." The human stared off into space for a bit, leaving Red looking perplexed in awkward silence. Underneath her purple cloak, she had a look of inquiry on her face, as if she was analyzing something Red couldn't see before smiling and turning back towards the half collapsed hallway, "Follow me."

"W-Wait! Isn't it dangerous?" asked Red.

"Not necessarily. If the hallway were to collapse, I can always just reset its original structure."

She walked off, further puzzling Red's suspicions on whether or not this human was actually a ghost. The ghost monsters Red was familiar with never walked anywhere, mainly since they could float and fly through walls and stuff (and also lacked the legs to do it), yet this girl clearly walked wherever she needed to go. Despite that, she didn't seem corporeal enough to be seen to the naked eye, but it wasn't that simple. It was almost like her soul was bound to another dimension, and its presence couldn't be felt by someone unless they had heightened senses, like a dog or like a werewolf. The little monster wondered if her discovering the grey door on accident had to do with her now being able to interact with this human, or anyone in that black void. Would she have not known they existed if the Annoying Dog hadn't happened upon that door? That was scary to think about... Regardless, shaking aside any further thoughts, she followed her, albeit with a little hesitation.

I guess I can keep this one alive. I still don't fully trust her, but... I guess she's not so bad if she gives me free food. Darn it, I feel my tail wagging again, Red mentally cursed at herself after feeling the sporadic shifting underneath her cloak. She rarely let herself express her true emotions, and it was utterly embarrassing that now was one of those times, when a human was bribing her just to be 'friends'.

As they walked back through the grey door, (which coincidentally appeared again after it refused to do so earlier), the human pulled back on her hood slightly to fix up her hair, brushing her bangs aside so she could see better. Red noticed that the human had some bags under her eyes that looked like they had been there for some time. It was strange though; she didn't sense any weariness coming from her emotions.

"This is the Void, an isolated chamber hidden between the boundaries of time and space." she began, "This is where lost souls go when they are stuck between life and death."

"Between..?" Red raised her head, bewildered.

The human nodded, "If a soul gets ripped apart by an unnatural cause, they don't necessarily die, but are sent here instead. When a soul is bound by the Void, they can't interact with souls who are free of its confines. That's why Undyne couldn't see me earlier; but you discovered the Void by pure coincidence, making your mind aware of our existence. It's possible that the barrier around your psyche that made you unaware of our presence has been shifted."

Red hummed in response, acknowledging her words, "But, wait... does that mean..- How long have you been here..?!"

"Not long, at least, in comparison to the others... It's sorta difficult to explain. In truth, I can't technically leave this place or travel too far." she admitted, her voice suddenly getting awkwardly quiet.

"Why's that?" asked the little monster.

There was a brief silence, a clear hint of contemplation in the human's eyes.

"... My soul is tied to someone else in the Underground," she answered, "I can't exist without a corporeal body, otherwise my soul could fade away in seconds. I don't know if that's actually true, but I don't want to find out. That's why I have to 'attach' my soul onto others so I can observe this world firsthand. It's not what I want, but I don't exactly have another option. If I did, I would love nothing more than to be able to interact with the people of this world... human and monster."

"Wait, wait, what? So, if what you're saying is true, and by that logic you're supposed to be dead, what happened to your real body?" Red questioned out of genuine shock and curiosity.

The human fell silent again, a sudden feeling of discontent crippling her soul. That topic seemed to have struck a definite nerve, as far as Red could tell.

"Don't answer that." said another voice out of the blue, "Your past is irrelevant at this point. You gave up your former life to be here, that's all that matters. What happened before is not important."

They both turned in shock to look at the other monster in the present area, that same skeleton from earlier.

"Hey! Who do you think you are!? I was asking the human, not you!" Red barked in outrage.

"It's alright..." the human coaxed her gently, trying to diffuse the situation before it escalated by standing between the two monsters, "Let me introduce you... Red, this is W. D. Gaster."

The skeleton monster scoffed and turned away, his eyes looking somewhat scornful. Were it not for his intimidating height and the overwhelming amount of magic she could sense within his soul, Red probably would've lunged to attack him for being downright rude.

"You don't have the slightest idea what kind of consequences will entail if you share your origin with an outsider of the void..." he spoke civilly but coldly, glaring down at the human.

The human turned her head towards the ground in shame, like a child being scolded by their parent, "Sorry, sir... I-I just thought... maybe she could understand. I mean... there has to be a reason she found us, right?"

"Hmph. Think whatever you will, but remember what I told you... Know your limitations. You can't fix what's broken with revelations alone."

Without saying another word, Gaster walked off deeper into the void, refusing to interact with their new company.

"What's his problem?" Red huffed in offense, unfamiliar with the old skeleton, "I never met a monster so grouchy in all my life."

"I'm not too sure about that." the human replied, scratching the back of her head, "Ever since I got here, he's been a bit distant. He's very inconsistent with his mood swings, to the point that I can't read him at times. I don't really know whether to say he trusts me or he just keeps me around for convenience, but I don't sense any ill intentions within his soul, so I believe I can trust him."

There was a brief pause between words as Red and the human watched Gaster's silhouette disappear into the darkness.

"What did he even mean by what he said?" The shorter monster rewinded their conversation, "Do you not know what happened to your body or what?"

"... Well, it's sort of difficult to explain. You might not believe certain parts of it." she chuckled awkwardly, hesitating to tell the truth again.

Red scoffed, "I'm a werewolf, you can't hide the truth from me even if you wanna try. Your emotions will just give you away. You may be human, but emotions don't lie."

She looked down at Red in surprise, but that look quickly shifted to one of slight amusement, given the little werewolf was trying to stand up and make herself look taller than she actually was. It was adorable to witness, and made her giggle a little.

"Alright..." she sighed in defeat as Red sat on the ground in front of her to listen to her speech intently, "Well, to start things off, I'm... not from the surface world here. I don't think anyone was aware of my arrival to the Underground... at least, I haven't met anyone who's outright admitted it. I know I look and seem very human... and I am, just not one of the ones you're familiar with. See, I come from a different world entirely..."

Red's ears perked up under her hood in surprise. Another world? Did she mean like she was from an alternate universe or something wacky like that?

"I don't know how long it's been, or what exactly happened," the human continued, "but I was ripped away through the fabric of space-time and carried to this world. By what, I'm not all too sure. However, I think because of the intense energy emitted from the wormhole that carried me to the Underground, my soul was ripped and torn apart, and as a result... well..."

She cut herself off and gently held one hand out, open-palm as a little red soul piece materialized in front of her chest, making Red gasp in horror.

"Half of it is missing..." Red inquired.

The human nodded in response, "When I came around and regained consciousness, my body looked and felt a little different than what I remembered, same with my soul... I could feel a strange power coming from the depths of it, yet much of that power seemed inaccessible, which Dr. Gaster theorized could be due to my inexperience with being exposed to magic."

Red held up her hands to stop the human's exposition, "Hold on. I thought humans couldn't use magic as of lately."

The last six that fell into the Underground couldn't, she thought.

The human shook her head in response, "All humans are capable of using magic... That's what Dr. Gaster told me. Some are born with the gift, but in the case of things like what I experienced, it's due to exposure or influence. I think in my case, I must've come into contact with the barrier that's keeping you all Underground, and that's what caused my soul to develop magic. The barrier itself is made up of powerful magic from days of old, back when there were great wizards among the humans."

Red pondered over everything she was hearing. The human was right; half of the things she said seemed like a bit of a stretch, but at the same time, it wasn't entirely impossible. This was starting to sound like a story from one of Alphys's animes.

"There's... some other things you should know," she spoke up hesitantly, regaining Red's attention, "about the hu..-" she paused, staring off into space again for a moment, "Oh shoot! The door will disappear again soon... You'd better go before the other monsters think you went missing."

"Huh? But you didn't finish your story!" Red whined, invested in her tale.

She gave the werewolf monster an apologetic smile and suddenly caused a bag of three Cinnamon Buns to appear in the palm of her hand, which she held out to Red for forgiveness. Red was so excited at the sight of more treats, she almost didn't notice the strange screen that popped up briefly near the human's hand. It had some strange gibberish scribbled onto it, like the same techy stuff Alphys would study on her laptop.

I think she called that stuff "code" or something? Red thought to herself. She wasn't that much of a tech enthusiast.

Taking the bag of Cinnamon Buns without hesitation, Red turned to leave, but paused to look back at her strange new friend.

"Hey," she avoided direct eye contact, trying to be stubborn again, "umm... say I might be interested in coming back here... what is... your name..?"

The anomaly looked surprised that Red was interested in returning, "You'd like to come back..?"

"Well, it'd be rude not to let you finish your story," Red hid under her cloak and muttered through her teeth, "and you give free Cinnamon Buns..."

She smiled thankfully, a bit amused by Red's insistent tsundere behavior, but she didn't mind. As for her name... She had not spoken nor heard it called in such a long time, she'd nearly forgotten what it was. However, she would not use that name, not here. Too many bad memories attached, not least the ones tied to... him. She would leave that identity behind in her old world, and take upon a new identity, one devoid of useless quirks and could be anyone's guide... her ideal self.

"... Pacifist." she answered, "My name is Pacifist."

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[msclaritea]

"The Trevor Project, whose mission is to “end suicide among LGBTQ young people,” has partnered with common household brands to develop their respective pride-themed collections and has, in some cases, received seven-figure donations from corporate sponsors.

The major corporate partnerships, which include iconic clothing brands such as Abercrombie & Fitch to fast food chains like Chipotle, come despite the organization’s unsafe online practices.

The youth-oriented LGBT activist group hosts an anonymous online chat forum “Trevor Space,” which allows adults to communicate with minors, National Review previously reported. The organization hosts multiple age-segregated chatrooms but has no age-verification system in place, which allows adults to interact with children in its “under 18” chatroom, a mother who went undercover in the chatroom said and National Review confirmed..."

"Amid warnings from lawmakers and civil rights groups that digital surveillance tools could discriminate against at-risk students, a leading nonprofit devoted to the mental wellbeing of LGBTQ+ youth has formed a financial partnership with a tech company that subjects them to persistent online monitoring.

Beginning in May, the Trevor Project, a high-profile nonprofit focused on suicide prevention among LGBTQ+ youth, began to list Gaggle as a “corporate partner” on its website, disclosing that the controversial surveillance company had given them between $25,000 (£22,590) and $50,000 (£45,182) in support. Gaggle, which uses artificial intelligence and human content moderators to sift through billions of student chat messages and homework assignments each year in search of students who may harm themselves or others, published a webpage noting the two were collaborating to “improve mental health outcomes for LGBTQ young people”.

Trevor Project in crisis: Financial, staff dissension, ‘union busting’

Long wait times or calls going unanswered, staff dissension, questionable financial issues, union busting, all plaguing LGBTQ+ youth resource

Published 2 months ago on August 10, 2023

By Special to the LA Blade

Los Angeles

(Editor’s note: This article contains references to suicide and self-harm. If you are having thoughts of suicide or are in crisis, call 988 to talk to a counselor or 911 for medical attention.)

By Joel Lev-Tov | COLLEGE PARK, Md. – He was cutting himself and his mother was worried.

Whom should she call? Who could help her son John, who is gay, and doesn’t have an accepting community in Asheville, N.C.? She asked around. Trevor Project, one person said. Trevor Project, another said. Trevor Project. Trevor Project. Reach out to the Trevor Project, the world’s largest nonprofit assisting LGBTQ+ youth.

She waited. And waited. For five minutes, then 10, 15, 40, and 47 minutes. No one answered. The website warned her that hold times were longer than usual. But this long? It had taken her forever to convince John, who asked for his name to be changed for fear of backlash, to even talk to someone. This wasn’t helping.

She checked back later that day. And waited on hold. And waited some more. She gave up, then tried the hotline the next day. Again she waited and waited until eventually giving up.

What, she wondered, was going on at the Trevor Project? How could the organization dedicated to preventing LGBTQ+ youth suicide not help her son? Coleman reached out to several other organizations before getting help from the Rainbow Youth Project, but the question still haunts her: What if someone wasn’t as determined as she was? What if someone in crisis didn’t want to wait around for hours to talk to someone?

Her son looked at her and said, “They really don’t give a damn if I’m here or not.”

“I’ll never forget that as long as I live,” Coleman said, tearing up.

Her experience isn’t an anomaly. Josh Weaver, who was Trevor’s vice president of marketing until November 2022, said the average wait times to talk to a Trevor counselor are about three minutes. But during nights and weekends, they said, wait times often exceed 30 minutes. Another employee confirmed that wait times could stretch anywhere from 30 minutes to a couple of hours during peak periods.

“That could be life or death,” Weaver said.

The Human Rights Campaign has issued a state of emergency for LGBTQ+ people in the United States. Legislators around the country introduced and passed a record 75 anti-LGBTQ+ bills just eight months into 2023.

The stakes could not be higher. A Trevor Project study found that close to half of LGBTQ youth considered suicide in 2022. But when those LGBTQ youth were surrounded by communities supportive of their identity, the study found, the rate of attempted suicide dropped dramatically.

In 2022, Trevor’s phone and chat lines supported a record number of people, more than 263,000, through calls, texts, and online chats, according to the organization’s 2022 annual report. And the organization has been rapidly expanding, seeking to help more and more youth.

But in interviews, 11 current and former Trevor employees, many speaking to the Blade anonymously for fear of retaliation, said that growth was much too fast and came at the cost of service.

Former CEO Amit Paley spearheaded the organization’s expansion from a handful of people to a massive organization with more than 700 employees. (Trevor initially declined to speak to the Blade but later said the number was 458 employees.) In the process, the employees said, it became more like a corporation than a nonprofit.

“A lot of us were joking that it was the most corporatized nonprofit that anyone has ever worked for,” said a former mid-level employee who spoke on condition of anonymity. “It was very money driven, very growth, growth, growth.”

With a 'non-profit' as shady and unorganized as The Trevor Project, is it snu wonder they decided to do business with Trans Identified Male, Dylan Mulvaney?

Dylan Mulvaney Honored With The Trevor Project Suicide Prevention Advocate of The Year Award

[fozmeadows]

race & culture in fandom

For the past decade, English language fanwriting culture post the days of LiveJournal and Strikethrough has been hugely shaped by a handful of megafandoms that exploded across AO3 and tumblr – I’m talking Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Dr Who, the MCU, Harry Potter, Star Wars, BBC Sherlock – which have all been overwhelmingly white. I don’t mean in terms of the fans themselves, although whiteness also figures prominently in said fandoms: I mean that the source materials themselves feature very few POC, and the ones who are there tended to be done dirty by the creators.

Periodically, this has led POC in fandom to point out, extremely reasonably, that even where non-white characters do get central roles in various media properties, they’re often overlooked by fandom at large, such that the popular focus stays primarily on the white characters. Sometimes this happened (it was argued) because the POC characters were secondary to begin with and as such attracted less fan devotion (although this has never stopped fandoms from picking a random white gremlin from the background cast and elevating them to the status of Fave); at other times, however, there has been a clear trend of sidelining POC leads in favour of white alternatives (as per Finn, Poe and Rose Tico being edged out in Star Wars shipping by Hux, Kylo and Rey). I mention this, not to demonize individuals whose preferred ships happen to involve white characters, but to point out the collective impact these trends can have on POC in fandom spaces: it’s not bad to ship what you ship, but that doesn’t mean there’s no utility in analysing what’s popular and why through a racial lens.

All this being so, it feels increasingly salient that fanwriting culture as exists right now developed under the influence and in the shadow of these white-dominated fandoms – specifically, the taboo against criticizing or critiquing fics for any reason. Certainly, there’s a hell of a lot of value to Don’t Like, Don’t Read as a general policy, especially when it comes to the darker, kinkier side of ficwriting, and whether the context is professional or recreational, offering someone direct, unsolicited feedback on their writing style is a dick move. But on the flipside, the anti-criticism culture in fanwriting has consistently worked against fans of colour who speak out about racist tropes, fan ignorance and hurtful portrayals of living cultures. Voicing anything negative about works created for free is seen as violating a core rule of ficwriting culture – but as that culture has been foundationally shaped by white fandoms, white characters and, overwhelmingly, white ideas about what’s allowed and what isn’t, we ought to consider that all critical contexts are not created equal.

Right now, the rise of C-drama (and K-drama, and J-drama) fandoms is seeing a surge of white creators – myself included – writing fics for fandoms in which no white people exist, and where the cultural context which informs the canon is different to western norms. Which isn’t to say that no popular fandoms focused on POC have existed before now – K-pop RPF and anime fandoms, for example, have been big for a while. But with the success of The Untamed, more western fans are investing in stories whose plots, references, characterization and settings are so fundamentally rooted in real Chinese history and living Chinese culture that it’s not really possible to write around it. And yet, inevitably, too many in fandom are trying to do just that, treating respect for Chinese culture or an attempt to understand it as optional extras – because surely, fandom shouldn’t feel like work. If you’re writing something for free, on your own time, for your own pleasure, why should anyone else get to demand that you research the subject matter first?

Because it matters, is the short answer. Because race and culture are not made-up things like lightsabers and werewolves that you can alter, mock or misunderstand without the risk of hurting or marginalizing actual real people – and because, quite frankly, we already know that fandom is capable of drawing lines in the sand where it chooses. When Brony culture first reared its head (hah), the online fandom for My Little Pony – which, like the other fandoms we’re discussing here, is overwhelmingly female – was initially welcoming. It felt like progress, that so many straight men could identify with such a feminine show; a potential sign that maybe, we were finally leaving the era of mainstream hypermasculine fandom bullshit behind, at least in this one arena. And then, in pretty much the blink of an eye, things got overwhelmingly bad. Artists drawing hardcorn porn didn’t tag their works as adult, leading to those images flooding the public search results for a children’s show. Women were edged out of their own spaces. Bronies got aggressive, posting harsh, ugly criticism of artists whose gijinka interpretations of the Mane Six as humans were deemed insufficiently fuckable.

The resulting fandom conflict was deeply unpleasant, but in the end, the verdict was laid down loud and clear: if you cannot comport yourself like a decent fucking person – if your base mode of engagement within a fandom is to coopt it from the original audience and declare it newly cool only because you’re into it now; if you do not, at the very least, attempt to understand and respect the original context so as to engage appropriately (in this case, by acknowledging that the media you’re consuming was foundational to many women who were there before you and is still consumed by minors, and tagging your goddamn porn) – then the rest of fandom will treat you like a social biohazard, and rightly so.

Here’s the thing, fellow white people: when it comes to C-drama fandoms and other non-white, non-western properties? We are the Bronies.

Not, I hasten to add, in terms of toxic fuckery – though if we don’t get our collective shit together, I’m not taking that darkest timeline off the table. What I mean is that, by virtue of the whiteminding which, both consciously and unconsciously, has shaped current fan culture, particularly in terms of ficwriting conventions, we’re collectively acting as though we’re the primary audience for narratives that weren’t actually made with us in mind, being hostile dicks to Chinese and Chinese diaspora fans when they take the time to point out what we’re getting wrong. We’re bristling because we’ve conceived of ficwriting as a place wherein No Criticism Occurs without questioning how this culture, while valuable in some respects, also serves to uphold, excuse and perpetuate microaggresions and other forms of racism, lashing out or falling back on passive aggression when POC, quite understandably, talk about how they’re sick and tired of our bullshit.

An analogy: one of the most helpful and important tags on AO3 is the one for homophobia, not just because it allows readers to brace for or opt out of reading content they might find distressing, but because it lets the reader know that the writer knows what homophobia is, and is employing it deliberately. When this concept is tagged, I – like many others – often feel more able to read about it than I do when it crops up in untagged works of commercial fiction, film or TV, because I don’t have to worry that the author thinks what they’re depicting is okay. I can say definitively, “yes, the author knows this is messed up, but has elected to tell a messed up story, a fact that will be obvious to anyone who reads this,” instead of worrying that someone will see a fucked up story blind and think “oh, I guess that’s fine.” The contextual framing matters, is the point – which is why it’s so jarring and unpleasant on those rare occasions when I do stumble on a fic whose author has legitimately mistaken homophobic microaggressions for cute banter. This is why, in a ficwriting culture that otherwise aggressively dislikes criticism, the request to tag for a certain thing – while still sometimes fraught – is generally permitted: it helps everyone to have a good time and to curate their fan experience appropriately.

But when white and/or western fans fail to educate ourselves about race, culture and the history of other countries and proceed to deploy that ignorance in our writing, we’re not tagging for racism as a thing we’ve explored deliberately; we’re just being ignorant at best and hateful at worst, which means fans of colour don’t know to avoid or brace for the content of those works until they get hit in the face with microaggresions and/or outright racism. Instead, the burden is placed on them to navigate a minefield not of their creation: which fans can be trusted to write respectfully? Who, if they make an error, will listen and apologise if the error is explained? Who, if lived experience, personal translations or cultural insights are shared, can be counted on to acknowledge those contributions rather than taking sole credit? Too often, fans of colour are being made to feel like guests in their own house, while white fans act like a tone-policing HOA.

Point being: fandom and ficwriting cultures as they currently exist badly need to confront the implicit acceptance of racism and cultural bias that underlies a lot of community rules about engagement and criticism, and that needs to start with white and western fans. We don’t want to be the new Bronies, guys. We need to do better.  

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

|Test-shot|

It’s just a test piece, so don’t come for me if it’s OOC, I’ve been in the fandom for less than a week, y’all U_U.

Motivation to do this came from @coffeeebeeans

U_U Thank you for encouraging me to write for this when my motivation was in the negatives

Mikey x Reader

Synopsis

You would do anything for your friends… including sacrificing yourself to keep them together. Your lover has a hard time accepting this…

Warnings:

Angst

Lots and lots of pain

knives, violence, murder U_U

Canon divergence- with a major plot point (cause I may or may not have a personal beef with this scene and refuse to accept it)

Self-sacrifice (cause you know we’d all do it)

Takemitchi hasn’t attempted to fix the future in this timeline yet...

So it’s canon divergence on the original timeline???

Possible spoilers for bloody Halloween if you aren't there yet.

Characters present:

Mikey,

Baji,

Kazutora (mention)

Words

1831

The heat of the sun against the tens of teenagers gathered around swallowed the area with sweat as crimson spread throughout the battlefield. Who thought teenagers, some no older than 14, could be more brutal than the adults of this world? Whoever imagined that children had such urges to kill, manipulate, and harm those around them. Were teens at your age not supposed to be hanging around arcades, laughing about the stupid things in life, complaining about school, smacking each other playfully, insulting one another, even getting into small fights that resulted in both sides pouting? Why were you here… why were any of you here?

Your hands swung, hitting their mark here and there. Occasionally wiping blood from a busted lip and cussing out an opponent or two. Everything was going fine, everything was right. Outnumbered, most of the members were feeling the pain, the dread, humiliation, and exhaustion begin to set in. Even though you were starting to tire. Underneath the sun that beat down on the day, a day that should have been for costumes and roughhousing among friends, wild parting, and pranks, was turning into a bloody battle. Why? That answer would never be settled beyond… this world was too cruel. Your eyes occasionally jumped to Mikey, who fought just as brazenly as you. Though he covered more ground while focused on an upper member, occasionally looking out for his friends.

You never backed him up, he didn’t need it… he was the great Mikey… the invincible Mikey. Your cheeks always rose in warmth when he flung his head back, hair bouncing as he dodged a hit and swung a kick. You were distracted, but not too distracted as to not avoid attacks. Sure, a few landed, but nothing brutal. Your eyes locked with his, and he flashed you a small confident smile, helping your energy slowly return.

Time went on and your limbs were growing sore, bruises sure to form along your face, a real pity. You were able to catch a break, slow your breathing, and stretch your ever-falling stamina. It was in that moment where you saw an old friend… somebody who you hadn’t known too long before they ended up in juvie. Panic set in when you noted the knife in his hands. His feet were slowly moving across the pavement towards another friend, somebody close to Mikey… if it had been another extra, you probably wouldn’t have taken too much attention. But the man’s dark hair pulled into a ponytail only belonged to Baji, a founding member.

Without thinking your feet were moving, pushing past those who hadn’t noticed yet. Somewhere inside your mind, the thought that you were not worth enough planted itself in your mind.

What had been racing, slowed, every movement too slow, stretched out before you. The way you skidded to a halt in front of Baji just seconds before the blade shoved itself into your stomach played out with little to no speed. Though it took only a second, it felt like hours as Kazutora, horrified, and stepping back, pulled away the blade. He mumbled things to himself you couldn’t care to listen to as you gripped the wound and sank to your knees. “Y/n!” His voice was… a little soothing as the pain spread its webs around your nerves. Considering you’d jumped before him, the wound wasn’t exactly where it had been aimed, off to the side, but it unquestionably punctured something important… based on the pain, it had to… or did being stabbed always feel this way? You’d experienced cuts before, hell broken ribs, broken noses, busted lips… this was new… middle-schoolers didn’t usually aim to stab people… that was usually not something that happened in fights. Weapons were actually pretty rare in fights… Most people had too much pride to pick one up.

“Fuck…” You mumbled out before familiar blond waves etched in your blurring vision… oh, blurring vision… you hadn’t noticed how weak your body was feeling, considering you were so focused on thoughts of how, why, and just when this happened.

“Why did you…” Baji’s voice stopped being static as you blinked away the dots in your vision and looked down to see how coated your hand was with your blood. Is this all mine? You asked yourself the question within your mind

“Who… who did it?” Why did… Why did Mikey sound so… different? You smiled, tilting your head.

“I’m…” it hurts to talk… Why did it happen? Were you dying? No, you’re not even in high school yet! You haven’t gotten to tell Mikey about your stupid crush, haven’t had a lover, there’s so much left to do… you weren't… you’re too young to die… all of you are too young to die! “Gonna be okay…. R-right?” The tiny stutter in your voice must have snapped something in Mikey. His head looked so clouded… blinded by rage and regret, and the pain of both the mental and physical kind swallowing him.

“… yeah...” though the grip of the boy you’d protected tightening around your arms and the way he wasn’t looking at you… that told a different story… shit, were you really about to…?

“Sorry, Mikey...” Your throat stung… like somebody was shoving acid down it… the cough that eventually left wasn’t clear saliva leaving your throat… the familiar color of blood dripped from your lips and panic began to set in. “M-Mi-Mikey… I don’t… I…. oh god… I don't wanna die…”

“Somebody already called an ambulance… Mikey… we should-”

“Shut up…” he’d been hanging his head, staring down at the blood seeping from the upper right of your stomach, but now his eyes had shot towards the kid holding the dripping knife.

His foot kicked in his signature movement. A kick so lightning quick, the eye couldn’t see it coming. The poor kid landed on the ground, eyes dizzy looking around, no time to react when Mikey grabbed his collar and swung his fist onto their face before your eyes. You reached out, realizing just how weak you were… so pitiful, like a breaking doll. “Mikey… stop… Mikey… M-Mi...” As blood spilled from your lips again, your position was shifted by the man behind you.

“Stop trying to talk, you fucking dumb-ass! Stop worrying about others and focus on yourself, you selfless idiot! You shoulda let me be stabbed, Mikey… Mikey’s got a crush on ya dumb-ass!” Baji spilled the words, his hair still held up as he continued pressing on the wound. There was some specific routine for this… but what? What was it?

“He’s… he’s gonna kill him Baji…”

“So what? He stabbed ya.”

“But we won’t get a happy ending if he goes to jail when I'm all f-fixed up… m'not gonna die.” Baji’s hands were shaking… his hands… never shook. You shivered in your spot… it was getting cold and you were… sleepy. Your eyes still focused on Mikey, pounding down on the boy's face. Over, and over, and over again… he was genuinely going to kill Kazutora… his old friend. It began to feel like breathing through a straw. You couldn’t exactly tell when the air in your lungs began tightening and the oxygen in your body led to further fatigue, but your eyes hardly kept themselves open. How long had it been since you’d been stabbed?

“Hey… you can’t close your eyes!”

“I’m tired…”

“Keep watching Mikey then! Do something, just not closin your eyes, you dumb shit!”

“C-can… tell Mikey m’love’m?” Baji couldn’t make too much sense of those words, slurred together as the rasps in your breath got louder and you teared up. You honestly were going to die here… without getting to see the world through adult eyes…

You must have closed your eyes, fallen out of it for a moment… Mikey’s knees buckled beneath him as he dropped next to you. Your eyes were open for another moment as he took your body from Baji… As you looked up with half-lidded eyes, you met eyes deprived of anything. There wasn’t any rage, no sense of despair… just an empty void of darkness. His face splattered in blood, along with his fists. “Still…here” you croaked, trying to nuzzle closer, but he held you in the same position.

Sirens wailed in the background and there was a small bit of hope… you wanted to hold onto it, but you couldn’t keep your eyes open or get too much air in. You could only let tears drip as your eyes closed and the rest of your body went completely limp in his arms.

The last you heard of the outside world contained the many voices contained in the static of people trying to save you before your thoughts led you to the end. I’ll protect him in another life… keep his eyes from looking like that…

~

Your eyes opened in a gasp reaching down to your stomach. Expecting hospital walls, you were all too surprised to be shielding your eyes from the sun, laying on a field of grass. “Jeez, you take long naps.” Mikey… you went to sit up, but arms around you kept you laying on your back. “Mmm, don’t feel like getting up!” Mikey chuckled before another familiar voice clicked his tongue.

“Jeez, stop flirting and making the rest of us feel single as fuck.” Your eyes lifted to spot Baji sitting on a wall, one leg dangling, his hair moving with the breeze, down around his shoulders.

Mikey sat up looking away. “We weren't flirting! Y/n was shaking in their sleep, so I was keeping them warm!”

“Flirting…” Draken pointed to Mikey with his typical scowl. Now tears started to drip from your eyes. Draken… was alive… you were alive… everybody was here. Was this a dream?

You pinched yourself, and Mikey dropped his jaw before hitting your hand away. “O-Oi! Y/n! Why’d ya do that?”

“Checking if I was dreaming...” you mumbled before hugging him, and everybody glanced a bit creeped out.

“I think they went crazy…” Baji huffed, pointing to you as you chuckled.

“Just had… a bad dream...” Yeah… now you could find a way to help him without getting yourself killed. You didn’t want to die again… not like you had there. “Mikey… I have a crush on you.”

“Woah! Did they just-” Baji had his mouth covered by a familiar blond female.

“Shhh,” she hissed, watching the two who had become the utter center of attention.

Mikey smiled, patting your head before pressing a kiss to your forehead, turning away giddily… right… This was Mikey before all his friends were killed, like Draken… and yourself. “Then I guess we're dating.” You smiled, at least that… whatever it had been, gave you enough confidence and urgency to tell the boy how much you wished to never leave his side.

“Aaaa! This calls for Sushi!” Emma hummed as you chuckled, pink spread throughout your face as you possessed everything.

“Yeah… it does.”

[soulmate-game]

New fic *test*

New Bio!dad Bruce story? I’m testing out this first chapter, and if I like where it’s going I might add it to my growing pile of WIPs. If I have inspiration, I might as well use it. Because of life events stressing me the hell out, I’m throwing any writing plans out the window and I’m purely gonna write to destress right now. Whether that means updating THG or not, or continuing Maribat March, we’ll just have to see how this all pans out. Things are subject to day-to-day change.

I got inspiration from this from rereading my day 1 story for Bio!dad Bruce Wayne month from last year. I’m just gonna change a few things.

—*—*—*—*—*

For once, an unfamiliar face attracted the attention of everyone who caught even a glimpse of them. It wasn’t even because of the person themselves at first, but their dress. The skirt like the most fantastical of storybook ball gowns, fluffy layers of satin over a luxurious petticoat, with a stunning pink floral pattern whose busy appearance was tastefully offset by a shorter, sheer layer of leaf green tulle artistically weaved and somehow sculpted over the floral in order to tame it. The effect turned what should be a grandmotherly pattern into something softer, sophisticated and youthful and yet also reminiscent of fairytale princesses. Over top the short layer of green tulle was an even shorter later of white tulle, almost invisible except for the elegant embroidery of crystal-white vines that twined all over it, connecting the green below it to the bottom-most floral pattern and oddly adding a layer of childishness instead of maturity. At the waist of the dress was a dark plum pink satin ribbon, to separate the elaborate ballgown skirt from the bodice. Attached to the simple ribbon was a large brooch of fabric flowers, with a single plastic ladybug in the center.

The bodice of the dress came up into a cheongsam neckline, but was sleeveless. It was a simple design, of half green and half dark pink, with a white border separating the two. The white border had expertly done embroideries in a soft silver thread that would only be visible close up, the images the thread made being that of fairies and ladybugs dancing around one another.

It was, all in all, a stunning display that made the small eurasian woman wearing them look like absolute royalty. Perhaps a long lost fairy princess. Her black-blue hair was even done up in elaborate looping braids and a braided bun, with silver and green pins that further completed the regal ensemble. And yes, while the expertly done dress was what initially captivated her current audience, it was not what kept them from leaving her alone. That was all her personality, bubbly and bright as her blinding smile. It was a sunny disposition that very few people present had any exposure to at all, and it drew them like a sunflower to the daylight. They could not help but flock closer, or even just stand back and keep themselves turned to her presence. Already she had been at the gala for two hours, but there was no issue. She just kept proving her generosity, admitting she had donated both a dress and a suit of her own making to the charity auction that would begin soon, one of the main attractions of the gala. She skillfully charmed the more snooty of the attendants, and artfully twisted her words so that they felt compelled to donate more money that they truly had no use for. Later, they would remember their donation and wonder what compelled it, but come up with no satisfying answer.

And yet she was entirely unaware of her more silent audience, who stood back and observed. Truth be told, every one of them was glad to not be the center of that attention for a change, to have room to breathe for so long at an event where usually that commodity was so scarce that it demanded a fierce competition for. Compared to her garden of color, they were all shadows in shades of blacks and blues and whites, with a touch of red here and there that was entirely too thematic for their home city. The one who sported a royal blue suit tilted his head at the scene they were all calmly witnessing, his bright azure eyes glittering.

“She’s like magic,” he mused, clearly enchanted despite having not said a single word to the woman. “Perfect socialite. She’s kind, generous, she made that dress and the ones she donated to the auction herself so she’s obviously got an intimidating amount of skill for her age. She even tricks those old fuddy-duddies into spending money. It’s like a dream come true!”

“I don't trust it,” the one to his right said, a man just a few inches shorter in a classic black suit with a red dress shirt underneath. He absently swept his bangs away from his face as he narrowed his eyes at the woman. “It seems too perfect. She doesn’t have any identifiable character flaw, except maybe being a little clumsy and too energetic. She does babble a little… but nothing that actually suggests any depth besides her just being— good. That’s impossible, and I don’t trust it.”

“Tt. I agree with Drake for once. She seems entirely too comfortable with this setting, despite her blushes and rambles,” the one who spoke this like was taller, clearly a teen in the middle of his growth spurt. He, too, wore a plain black suit but his had subtle charcoal embroidery and he wore an emerald-green dress shirt under it that made his matching eyes gleam dangerously. “It seems almost playacted. Expertly so, but nonetheless not entirely genuine.”

“Wow, not many pick up on that. I’m gonna give your observations a solid eight out of ten. They’re all perfectly sound, but not quite complete,” a new voice made all of the silent group stiffen— somehow they had been snuck up on. The newcomer smirked at them as if having fully expected their reaction but still being pleased at being able to evoke it. This was yet another stunner; far too much color in her outfit to be a Gotham native, and far too much skill in the construction for it to signify anything less than extreme influence. She had bright golden-blond hair that was coiled into a low bun, with her bangs artfully curled and arranged to display her crystal blue eyes.

In contrast to the garden-themed dress of the Eurasian woman who had garnered their attention at first, this newcomer was wearing a pantsuit. It was all in a dark honey-gold, in a stiff fabric with construction that made it lay entirely in perfect, straight lines and hug her form in the right places. Black embroidery decorated the long, flared sleeves and pant legs and dripped around the square neckline like a faux necklace. A cape made out of the same material as the rest of the pantsuit was draped on one shoulder. It started out as the same honey-gold color, but it became a gradient as it faded to a solid black at the ends. Gold thread embroidery decorated the solid black bottom of the cape in delicate, deceptively simplistic swirls. The top half of the pantsuit was clearly inspired by military garb, simultaneously rigidly constructed yet fitted, with circular onyx buttons going down the center of the chest and a thick metal belt, all in swirling silver and black, sat perfectly clasped around her waist. It was far more solid-colored and simplistic compared to the fairytale dress in the center, but no less show stopping and luxurious. It simply showcased an entirely different attitude, almost as if the two women could never get along if their personalities matched their outfits.

“And who are you?” The man who had been the center of the group of shadow-like adults spoke up, back straightening to milk every speck of his generous six-feet-and-three-inches of height. This was none other than Bruce Wayne, the host of this annual charity gala. And normally, his current stance would either intimidate or utterly charm whoever it was directed at— but not this pantsuit-clad blond warrior. Her smirk merely widened, and her blue eyes took on a slight shade of teal as if trying to mimic the dangerous ocean depths.

“I am Chloe Bourgeois, the daughter of Andre Bourgeois, the mayor of Paris, and Audrey Bourgeois, the Style Queen. It’s nice to meet you again, Monsieur Wayne,” she introduced herself imperiously. “I also happen to be the best friend of the girl you were just staring at.”

Bruce nodded, but had trouble reconciling this clear powerhouse of a woman with the bratty and entitled preteen he had met years ago, at the last gala she had attended with her mother. “Of course, I didn’t recognize you at first Chloe. You’ve grown a lot since the last Gala I saw you at.”

Chloe wrinkled her nose, clearly not appreciating the reminder. “I was a bitch,” she admitted easily, seemingly not at all bothered by the confession. It caused not only Bruce but also the oldest three of his sons, who had all also met her in the past, to blink in silent shock. “Things have changed. Paris is apparently the perfect chaotic environment right now to promote emotional growth and smack spoiled kids over the head with reality,” she shrugged. Part of the reason her and her whole class had even been able to come to the Gala in the first place was the fact that Bruce wanted to offer the most attacked group of Parisians a respite and some support from their crazy lives. The fact that even Gotham seemed sane in comparison to Paris was a bit of a hard hit for both involved parties, but in the end everyone understood that “more sane” didn’t always equate with “less dangerous.” Considering all that, Chloe had no reason to sugarcoat the situation in her home city. “But it wasn’t easy at all, and Marinette was largely responsible for my improvement too.”

“Marinette?” The heathen who somehow got away with attending a gala in a black leather jacket over a dress shirt and suit pants asked, raising a brow. Chloe nodded.

“The girl you were just goggling at. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the class president and resident workaholic. Does she ever sleep? Nobody knows,” Chloe shrugged.

The blue-suited man, Dick Grayson, shot a suspicious glance at Tim, who was standing to his right, as if he was worried his brother had made a female clone of himself just so he could continue to work hard and never rest. Tim ignored him and sipped from the thermos of coffee he had somehow snuck in.

Bruce cleared his throat to bring the focus back onto himself, and shot his most charming smile at Chloe. “They would have known who she was, if they had read the brief information I gave them about your class. But they never do listen to me,” he complained with good humor. “But back to the original topic, Miss Bourgeois, do you care to correct us on how our observations are lacking?”

Chloe laughed easily, smiling and nodding to indicate Marinette, still stuck in a circle of socialites and not seeming the least bit worn out.

“Of course. First; She is not completely acting. She really is like magic sometimes— disgustingly kind, generous, far too willing to help just about anyone for just about any reason. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever met, as much as it pains me to admit it. But she is exaggerating her personality a bit and hiding the parts she doesn’t want anyone to see, so there is a little acting involved. Just not as much as you seem to think,” Chloe then waved her arm in a flourish as if she were presenting Marinette to them. “In short; behold Mari Dupain-Cheng, the ridiculously likeable, disgustingly cute, extremely philanthropic mask that she shows everyone at public events like this. You don’t see any of the insomnia, or the anxiety, or the self doubt. Just the parts she wants you to see, accompanied with a smile to blind you to everything else,” her all-too-deep blue eyes settled back on Bruce then, a knowing glint shining in them. “Don’t you think that’s ridiculously similar to Brucie Wayne for you, Monsieur? Utterly, ridiculously, similar?”

Bruce grit his teeth. He hadn’t expected anyone else to know about his exceptionally well hidden secret, not even his kids had caught on or found his buried evidence yet. Yet his heiress comes up, nearly flaunting her knowledge in his face with all too many unspoken questions and criticisms.

And her cryptic words had succeeded in making all of his kids look at him with extreme suspicion. Shit.

“What are you saying, Miss Bourgeois?” he cautiously prodded. She hummed noncommittally before dropping the bomb all too casually;

“I’m saying I’ve seen her adoption papers, and you won’t be able to run from her for long Monsieur Wayne. As soon as she gets an opening, she’s going to pounce,” Chloe’s eyes glittered dangerously again. “And nowadays, Marinette doesn’t ever let people escape her. Your problem with adoption has created a rather unique problem, you know. You’re at fault for a large majority of her self confidence issues, and I want you to know that I am not going to forget or forgive that anytime soon.”

“Bruce,” Jason’s voice was dark and threatening. “What is she talking about?”

“Something we don’t want getting in the tabloids,” Yet another new voice popped up, allowing Chloe to smugly sink back into the background.

Somewhere during their discussion, Marinette had ambushed them.

“Chloe and I are very good at locating all the reporters in a room and distracting them, but we’re not infallible and this event has far too much coverage,” Her smile reeked confidence and charm, but this close all the Waynes could see the doubt hiding in her bluebell eyes. “Since I’m about to turn eighteen, I figured this would be as good a time as any to finally confront you. I want to make it clear that I seek nothing from you, except the occasional contact. I would like to keep in touch, if nothing else. But if you are adverse to that… then at least answer my questions after the gala,” her eyes developed a hint of carefully controlled desperation. “Please.”

Bruce met her eyes evenly, trying to read her. But she was difficult, simultaneously too many emotions to sort through in her demeanor and much too little. After an extremely tense moment of silence, his voice came out barely above a whisper:

“You do not want anybody to know?”

And hell, if she didn’t recognize the hidden vulnerability in his voice as the very same she heard in her own far too often. In a much tamer version of her own rambling, he went on:

“I can keep it silent if that is what you want. But I want you to know that I will not be adverse to you admitting it anywhere. I don’t expect you to change your name, but I would not be ashamed of the truth getting out. I am not ashamed of it, of you.”

Marinette’s smile grew a little watery. She had to clear her throat to keep herself from tearing up. “Maybe eventually, but not yet. I… I want to stay a little more anonymous for now. It’s one thing to be a well known designer with good connections. It’s an entirely different thing to be…”

“A Wayne?” Bruce finished, ignoring the daggers that were being stared into his back. “I understand completely.

“Father,” Damian’s voice was all sharp edges and rapidly suppressed panic. “What. Is going. On?”

Marinette shot him an apologetic smile. “Apparently, eighteen years ago, his prerogative was to put the child he actually knew about up for adoption when the mother died in childbirth,” her voice was once again only barely loud enough for them to hear, since she didn’t want any eavesdroppers. “Imagine my surprise when I find out he completely flipped sides only months later.”

--*--*--*--*--*

Hey, so please share your feedback on this. This is just to test out a possible new bio dad, multichapter fic and this is the opening scene I'm trying out. If you like it, please tell me what you like about it and please suggest titles for the story! I love you guys' feedback so much!

[charcoalhawk]

Fill My Grave With Lilies Of Every Color

Written for Phic Phight 2022!

Prompt by @calamarispider

“amity park is its own, living being. it breathes, in the way a town does. it watches. the streets twist and turn and twine, shifting with an unknown rhythm, and unknown intent. amity park is a town full of the dead, and as we all know, death and life are the building blocks of each other.”

Beta’ed by the amazing @dykesville, thank you for all the help!

Summary: Amity Park cares for everyone within her limits, especially their little Phantom.

What most people do not understand, what even most ghosts can fail to comprehend, is that the line between life and death is much thinner than one could ever imagine. Life does not stop with the last beat of the heart, and death does not begin when the soul leaves the body to form a ghostly core.

Amity Park was kind to all those that lived within their boundaries, because like any good city she knew that good hearts made great corpses– and even better ghosts. Every person put to rest in her graveyard would be cradled forever by the earth that surrounded them. For Amity Park had neither a beating heart nor a ghostly core, yet they lived and loved just as much as a living thing: fiercely protective of everything that they considered theirs, even that which the people and ghosts within did not.

(Those forgotten or discarded were especially precious to Amity, for what town abandoned its own based on useless human superstitions?)

Amity Park gave particular care and attention to the children and elderly that lived within its boundaries, for they were the closest to both life and death.

Take young Danny Fenton, noted and doted upon by Amity Park as all children were. He had been a peculiar child, and when returning home at night had always thanked the winding streets and flickering lights for guiding him. In his youth, those around him had seen this as a quirk; as he grew into his teens, it became less charming, more alienating.

For most adults learned to ignore how they seemed to arrive at their destinations faster than they should have, or how the streetlights would never dim, or any of Amity’s other notes of grace toward its people.

That hurt. But Amity understood, at least then, that ignoring the uncanny had become natural to them, a status quo to be protected. At least, it had been, before the ghosts had started to show up.

_______________________________

Amity watched the young Fenton boy die between realms, only able to interfere so much. The Ghost Zone could take the ghost’s core, but Amity Park owned the corpse. The result of this battle of wills shook the very core of reality. The end result was… interesting to say the most.

With the death of Danny Fenton and the birth of Danny Phantom, neither of which is as set in stone as it should be, a permanent natural portal is formed allowing ghosts trapped in the Ghost Zone to return to the mortal world. True natural portals appeared only a few times each millennium, leaving many of Amity’s ghosts with a choice: go to the Ghost Zone, where their spirits could run free, and Amity Park, where their corpses still rested to this day.

Amity watched her little Phantom as he grew and learned from the ghosts, saw him tally every nook and cranny in Amity to better protect it. He talked to her, sometimes, haltingly at first. He was the first in a long time who wanted to talk to Amity more.

Amity finds a kinship with young Phantom, still so new and bright in his half-undeath. Phantom is alone just as they are, skirting a line no one else even knows exists, hated by both humans and ghosts by being too much of either.

They help their little Phantom, when they can. They even try to help him study for an important test that he had been struggling to prepare for –

Time is not linear for Amity Park. She sees the birth and death and everything in between of every human that has ever walked along Amity's winding roads and while it always knows the past from the present from the future, some scars can be felt even if they were never even inflicted.

– but the less said about that future the better.

___________________________

When Pariah Dark tries to pull Amity Park into the Ghost Zone, to rip and tear what belongs to them to fulfill the selfish desires of a forgotten King, the very earth begins to scream.

Pariah Dark is not an Amity Park ghost. He has no claim to this town or her people and especially not to her dead.

When young Phantom goes to fight the King on behalf of the people – a King powerful enough to overrule the very will of an entire ghost town – Amity thought they could weep. They could not protect Phantom when he entered Paraiah’s keep, a place even older and more alive than Amity itself, but it does what it can: it keeps those still in Amity safe. That was, after all, its purpose, the fixation – the obsession – that kept Amity Park going.

And against all the odds, the little Phantom succeeds.

When Pariah Dark is once again sealed in his sarcophagus Amity feels the Ghost King’s hold disappear in an instant, allowing them all to return to the land of the living once again.

In the aftermath Amity cradles its people close, both those above ground, returning to their daily lives, and those below, who need protection now more than ever.

But life, and death, move on. Life and death and departure continue in Amity Park; the town grows and shrinks and breathes as most continue on none the wiser.

But the little Phantom stays. And for Amity Park, a town that’s not alive, but which certainly isn’t dead either, their little Phantom is enough.

[ellitx]

From Me To You | Venti x Reader

[Name]'s been spending more time with Aether writing letters. When will she go back to him to spend time together?

word count: 9.7k

           “Now, who would love to listen to a bard’s song? One can harmonize with me to sing along~”

           Sun-kissed white clouds blossom in the blue, free to fly with the wind. In the long horizon, they take on azure hues. It was a wonderful day to sing ballads to the people of Mondstadt. 

           Children and adults have crowded around Venti, the little ones' eyes sparkled in awe whilst the grownups are eager to listen to the stories he’ll share. A chuckle slipped from his lips and took out his trusty lyre, Der Frühling.

           The sweet refrain of the lyre spoke a musical language to their soul. The strumming sound had a hypnotic soothing quality that he craved. To lose himself to the melody of the stringed instrument was his idea of heavenly noon.

           The bard’s music fills the air without effort, like the waves filling holes in beach sand; the sound rushing in and around every person near the Cathedral. Some reacted to his poetic words, others continued in chatter, but it always speaks to them in some manner.

           A lively tempo can lift them, elevate the spirit, or admire his storytelling of the previous heroes. Before the notes filled the air, every person was an island. With it, they all feel the same tidal flows and the beginning of togetherness feels warm.

           His fingers ceased his strumming and gave a bow to his audience as they cheered and clapped from the wonderful performance and his melodious voice that favored their ears.

           “Thank you!” He chuckled and the lyre dissipated from his hands, hiding in the unknown as he tipped his beret towards them fill it up with moras. Needless to say, he will spend it on a tavern to buy Mondstadt’s beloved dandelion wine.

           Watching the townsfolk walk off and continue their business, he glanced behind him to look at the Cathedral. “I wonder when will [Name]’s guests leave?” He pouted and crossed his arms over his chest.

           “I wish they’d leave already.”

           Lost in his thoughts, a man then bumped into him making the bard stumble backward. He didn’t even apologize or spared a glance at him. “Hey!”

           The fellow simply ignored him and ran off with his friend.

           Venti whipped his head to see what the sudden commotion was all about. The citizens that were crowding in the town square caught his interest. He trotted his way near the semi-circular platform and observed.

           “What’s going on there?”

           Leaning forward on the bricked base to take a closer look, a familiar silhouette greeted his eyes. It was unexpected to see that the outlander has already come back. Aether waved to the people who welcomed him and smiled at them in thanks.

           The bard was confused as to why he was here. What was his reason for his sudden appearance without their knowledge?

           For some reason, it made his stomach churn.

           It felt like bad news.

 —

            “[Name]! [Name]!” Venti called out her name as he ran inside the Basilica drawing Barbara’s attention. 

           “Ah, Venti! You mustn’t—“

            “I understand what you’re saying… but this is more important.” Sister Jilliana sighed and let her palm rest on her cheek in worry as she looked at [Name]. 

           “Yes, but…”

           The door then slammed open, surprising the two females inside and cast their gaze on the bard. “[Name]!” He uttered her name once more and took a deep breath to regain the oxygen back to his lungs.

           “Venti…?”

           “Young man, how many times must I tell you to knock before entering this room?” Sister Jilliana scolded as a frown painted on her face. 

           A sheepish smile tugged his lips and closed his eyes to them apologetically. “Pardon me, Sister.” She breathed out wearily, already used to his abrupt barging, and motioned for him to come inside much to his pleasure.

         �� Venti hopped his way to [Name]’s bed and enveloped her frail form in a hug. “What is it?” She asked as she caressed his dark locks that made him relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of her fingers grazing his head.

           He nuzzled on her neck and gave light kisses on it making her cheeks flared up in embarrassment and pushed him gently before the nun could see his scandalous acts. A sullen look appeared on his appearance when she denied his love for her as he let his arms fall back to his side.

           He almost forgot what he was going to say since he was so excited to finally see [Name] considering that he wasn’t able to visit her because of curfews. She has been stuck in here for who knows how long now, and just misses being with her.

           He clenched his fist and placed it on his mouth as he coughed to get back to his composure. “It seems like he came back already.” She tilted her head in puzzlement at his words, unable to fathom what he meant.

           It was ambiguous and equivocal so to say. Maybe he just wanted to play some word games again? Before she could speak out, someone was knocking on the door and Barbara came to announce something.

           “The traveler is here.”

           The female’s [eye color] oculars lit up and smiled. “You mean him?” She asked more on the bard than the deaconess. The former furrowed his brows and intertwined their fingers together, nodding hesitantly.

           “I forgot it was supposed to be today.” [Name] muttered and glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall. “Please ask him if it’s alright with him to wait for me. I’ll be there in a minute.”

           “Of course.” Barbara smiled and closed the door quietly. Sister Jilliana cleared her throat and crossed her arms over her chest as she narrowed her eyes at her like a mother scolding a child. 

           “I’m sorry, Sister, but is it alright if we talk about this some other time?” She pleaded and clasped her hands together in an imploring way. 

           The nun shook her head and clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Some other time? You know you need to stay in bed and rest!” [Name] lifted the blanket from her form and let her feet dangle on the edge of the bed ready to set off.

           Venti watched them quietly— with him following behind her— as she made her way to the exit of her room. “Young lady, your health will be at risk if you don’t stay here—“

           “Don’t worry! I’ll make sure to drink my medicines!” [Name] said hastily and grasped his hand with hers before leaving the woman alone in the room as the door shut closed.

           “Wow, it sure has been a long time since we’ve been here, huh.” Paimon said as she floated over the outlander’s head. He nodded in agreement and admired the marvelous garden from the window, absently nodding off to the wonderland.

           “Aether!” The male whipped his head to the source of the voice and beamed at [Name] with his floating companion waving her hands excitedly. “[Name]!” Paimon exclaimed as small particles of constellations trailed along with her when she greeted them.

           “Hello to you too, Paimon!” The female giggled as she danced around her. While the three of them were busy with their small reunion, Venti can’t help but glare at the blonde male. 

           Great, now he’s getting her attention I’ve always needed.

           He grumbled to himself and clutched tightly on her hand to remind her that he was still there. Why is it that if he needs her affection so badly, something will sabotage and interfere with them? 

           “Sorry to keep you waiting,” [Name] apologized to Aether to which he brushed it off saying it’s fine. “and thank you for coming all this way.” She bowed to them and showed them her smile.

           “You gotta loosen up, [Name]. You don’t have to be so formal around us.” The fairy started with a pout. She then looked at Venti who was clinging to her as a frown appeared.

           “And why’s the Tone-Deaf Bard here?”

           Venti huffed and scowled to the emergency ratio. “I’m the one who should be asking that, mind you. What are you two doing here?”

           “Paimon…” The traveler scolded and placed his hand on his forehead, shaking his head in aggravation if she ever caused a scene inside the church. Seconds later, he regained his composure and looked to the bard.

           “Sorry about Paimon. [Name] requested us to come here.” Was his answer to Venti’s question. The latter bit his lip and held the frail teen close to him protectively. 

           What for? He asked to himself, absentmindedly letting the winds get strong and sharp on their skin.

           [Name] laughed airily when he did that and gave a short peck to his cheek to calm him down. She noticed he’s been more watchful than ever and it’ll be bad news if he’ll go out of control.

           “Let’s take a seat. I’ll go and prepare tea for us.”        

           She tipped her head and beckoned them to follow her to the room. Aether looked around the area before taking a seat on the couch while Paimon awed at the sight of a plate of cookies resting peacefully on the table and grabbed a handful of it.

           “Shouldn’t you be resting?” Venti said as he wrapped his arms around the female’s waist from behind and buried his face on her neck. He fiddled with the ribbon that was tied to her dress while she started brewing tea for the guests.

           “I already have enough. Staying in bed for days is even more tiring.” The faint scent of the sugar reached their nose as she took several and kept it in the sugar pot to bring it later.

           He hummed as a response and watched her pour the freshly brewed tea on four teacups and placed it on a tray. His fingers wrapped on the handle and carried it before she could take it.

           He didn’t want her to move so much and decided he’ll take care of this one. [Name] escorted him back to the living room and took a seat as Venti served the drink to Aether. The traveler thanked him and blew gently to cool it before taking a sip.

           Sighing at the aromatic drink, Aether glanced at them. “Should we start?” He asked and settled the cup back on the table. “Of course, it’s better to begin right away. If I recall correctly, you were alright with helping me for one week, right?” [Name] pondered.

           He bobbed his head. Paimon gave a curious look as she munched on the cookies. “Oh right! Traveler and I are happy to help you anytime! Uh… what was it that she asked us again…?”

           Aether groaned at her lack of focus, too tired to even give her an answer. “I can discuss it with you if we take it to the sunroom if you don’t mind? It’s nice and bright out there.” 

           [Name] stood up from her chair and patted her outfit to tidy up the creases that formed. Venti’s brows arched in curiosity and inquired about them. “What are you doing?”

           “I’m having him help me write some letters.”

           He was beyond confused at such a simple request, yet why did she ask Aether to come all this way just for that if he can just do it for her? He furrowed his brows and looked down on the floor, feeling dejected that she’s not relying on him.

           “I could’ve done that for you…” He muttered bitterly and clenched his fists. She felt her heart sink at his morose state and apologized. “I’m sorry, Venti but this is something different.” She cupped his cheeks as her fingers touched them affectionately. Rather than having the warm and loving feeling, it just felt heavy like something was weighing on his shoulders.

             Breathing a sigh, he rested his palm over hers and leaned closer as their temples made contact. “Who are you writing to?” He whispered and admired the swirls of [eye color] in her eyes as they twinkled. 

           “Well…” She closed her eyes and smiled blithely. “Someone very far away.”

           That was not the answer he was expecting. He whined at her enigmatic comment and kissed her lips as a counter much to her surprise and bashfulness to his direct public display of affection. 

           [Name] could feel the heat growing in her cheeks. By now they must be beyond attractive rosiness. She felt as if all her insecurities were writ large across her face and there was nowhere to hide. 

           “Ahem!” Paimon cleared her throat to garner their attention. Venti’s eyes focused on hers and hummed innocently as if nothing happened. “Seriously? Right in front of us?” She remarked and folded her arms.

           “So? Any problems with it?” He asked in a snobbish tone and held [Name] close while she covered her whole face with her hands, too ashamed to face the guests and Venti himself. 

           “W-we should get going now, Aether. I don’t want to delay your travels any further.” She stuttered then looked at the bard. “Venti, can you stay here?” She pleaded and hoped her begging would work on him.

           “Eh, why?” 

           “This is something private. I’m really sorry if I’m being surreptitious today, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” [Name] brushed her lips on his cheek before setting off to the sunroom with Aether and Paimon following after her.

           The blonde looked behind his shoulder and stared at Venti’s small frame standing idly in the middle of the room. He felt bad for him that they’re keeping a secret from him. Aether has to fulfill the girl’s request. He hopes the Anemo archon won’t misunderstand everything.

           By the time they arrived there, his eyes caught on the typewriter sitting on the lone table with Barbara situated on a chair, humming a song. She lifted her head up when she saw three figures from the corner of her eyes and greeted them with a big smile. 

           “You guys are finally here.”

           Venti peeked from the window and watched as their lips moved to try to comprehend what they’re saying from the other side of the room. He tried his best to do lipreading but when [Name] turned her head, he immediately ducked and hid from her eyesight.

            He clicked his tongue in annoyance, not that because she almost caught him, but because of the outlander and his little companion. “I knew he was bad news.” 

           Hearing the loud screech of the chair, he jerked his head in the direction of the noise as his teal eyes widened and his mind went blank as did his heart at the sight of his dear toppling if it weren’t for Aether catching her in time.

           The female’s chest tightened and her breathing was ragged and short as she clutched tightly to whoever was holding her for support. Everything turned cloudy and fuzzy, she blinked several times to recover her focus but to no avail, the world then went dark as several voices called out for her.

           Venti panicked and soon dashed inside, ignoring the calls of the nuns that wanted him to stop.

 —

            “Are you okay…?” Asked the bard as he connected their hands together and rubbed circles on the back. “I’m fine. Sorry if I gave you a shock.” 

           [Name] was currently laying on her bed, tucked inside the blanket. Here she was again, stuck in her room with the smell of medicines and flowers wafting around the room. 

           When will she ever have a day to finally get out of here and enjoy the outside world with her friends instead of being cooped up alone? Venti continued letting his finger graze on her hand to distract himself and believed she’ll get well soon.

           “I’ll be better right away.” She assured him with a smile. He stayed quiet and unheedingly interlocked their fingers to continue to play with it. [Name] didn’t mind at all. If that’s what makes him feel at ease then she’ll allow it without asking.

           “Hey, Venti,” She called out quietly. 

           “Hm?”

           “Can you sing for me?”

           The motion of his finger halted as a smile donned his face. “Of course. Anything for you.”

           He first started humming, improvising a ballad for her— to make a melodic and lilting harmony just for her. It soothed her ears listening to his soft voice as her eyes flitted, ready to set off to the wonderland of dreams.

           Humming should be a soothing sound, dulcet tones creating a wordless melody, something to help her drift away to a reassuring Neverland. Venti’s gentle humming fills her room, he knows she prefers it if it’s sedating.

           From now until then, [Name] will savor each note for they make her feel at home like nothing else can. 

           “Venti,” She uttered her beloved’s name one more time.

           “Yeah?”

           Her fingers dug on her blanket before shaking her head and smiling. “It’s nothing.” There it is again. [Name] became reluctant about what she’ll say. His brows knitted together at her furtive behavior.

           Ever since Aether came, that’s how she’s been acting. Seven days of not being able to get close to her while they write, is it even possible for him to do that? The sisters watched him closely if ever he tried to sneak inside. 

           It really infuriated him that they’re separating him from her.

           What other ways could they possibly spend time together without any disturbance? He snapped out from his daydreaming when the squeaky voice of the fairy reached their ears. He didn’t bother to look at or even spare a greeting to them.

           So when the blonde stood near her bed and placed a pouch on her hand, it made him curious to know what was inside there. “[Name], we’ve brought the seeds as you asked!” Paimon exclaimed as she appeared over Aether’s shoulder.

           “Will these be enough?” The latter asked. The female sat up and carefully opened the bag to see the contents. She hummed in affirmation and smiled at him in thanks.

           “Thank you. W-was it a hassle to find these…?” She queried slowly. “It’s fine! We’ll do anything as you asked even if it’s killing abyss mages!” The traveler gawked at Paimon’s words before sighing and nodding.

           She giggled at their words, putting down the pouch on the lamp table. “I wouldn’t go that far to ask such things, but thank you.”

           “Excuse me,” A head poked out from the doorframe as Barbara revealed herself. “[Name] needs to rest now and it’s almost past the curfew hours. Sister Jilliana will be mad if she sees you’re all here still lingering.”

           Venti’s eyes cast to the clock as he watched the hands ticked. “Isn’t it a bit too early?”

           “What do you mean early? It’s getting dark already and we better go now! She really needs to sleep after what happened.” Paimon huffed whilst she crossed her short arms.

           The archon groaned when Aether grabbed his shoulders and dragged him away from [Name], unwilling to let go. Venti removed his hand before running back to her and giving a short yet sweet kiss on her head, cheeks, and lastly her lips.

           He slowly parted from her wanting to linger his lips on hers a bit more. The feeble girl looked up at him, his azure optics already glued to hers as a faint tint of red brushed on the apples of her cheeks. She closed her eyes when he pecked her head once more and whispered,

           “Sleep well, okay? I’ll come to visit you again.”

           [Name] nodded, finally laying down and tucking herself comfortably inside the blanket. Night rolls around and after a time the sandman came to heavy her lids. She felt the shuttering of her synapses, the quiet lure into sleepiness. As each limb becomes heavy and the heart slows to a more peaceful beat, the comfort of bed calls.

 —

            “Paimon’s so exhausted. Where are we going to rest anyway?” The pixie yawned as she trailed behind Aether. “[Name] already saved a room for us in the Knights of Favonius headquarters, we can go there now.” 

           “Wow, she already planned ahead, huh.” 

           Nighttime stretched ahead as long as the road they had traveled in the daylight hours, now charcoal-hued and cold. The birds were silenced, no one walked the streets, the only serenade being the ever-present chirping from the crickets that hid from shadows or maybe even from the bushes near the statue.

           The Knights in front of the main door saluted to the Honorary Knight with him greeting them back. Opening the door, the familiar room people around him gave him a sense of nostalgia.

           “Welcome back, traveler.” Jean welcomed him with a warm smile. “It’s good to see you again. I presume there were a few monsters along your way here?”

           Paimon laughed and shook her head. “Nah, we wiped them out in one go. He’s really strong and no one is able to defeat him!” She exclaimed proudly while placing her hands on her hips as her chest was puffed out.

           “Oh? I didn’t expect to see you here.” The Cavalry Captain then appeared behind Jean as he smirked seeing the two companions. “I thought the news of you coming back were just mere rumors, it seems like I was wrong after all.” He sighed nonchalantly.

           “We can’t just ignore [Name]’s request so we immediately left Liyue.” The fairy replied. Kaeya hummed before bidding them a goodbye to go to archon knows where.

           “You should take a rest. Your travels have tired you off after all. Noelle already cleaned the room and if you need anything just ask us.” Aether took note of the Acting Grandmaster’s words and bobbed his head in acknowledgment.

           A yawn escaped his lips unintentionally as the corner of his eyes started to tear up from drowsiness. 

           “Yeah, we better need that. Paimon’s getting sleepy, I might pass out from here.”

           With Aether and the emergency food wishing Jean a good night, they marched off in their room and slumped on the bed once they saw it, drifting off to dreamland.

 —

            After a sleepless night on the ward, [Name] sank into her bed. It was three in the morning and even the birds were quiet. There was no single sign of a human nor an animal walking outside.

           She drank in the silence through every pore, soothed by its meditative quality. Each time a worrying thought emerged, she mentally jotted it down on a notepad and closed her eyes to drift those thoughts off and replace them with something positive.

           When her uneasiness had finally leached into the void, she moved her weak limbs up the stairs to bed, then she lay there wrapped in her duvet— cocooned by the thick protective buffer of the absolute quiet.

           A thumping was then heard from the window as she whipped her head in alertness. A small silhouette can be seen outside but was hard to make through to see who this stranger was because of the dark.

           The window opened, making her panic until the kisses of the gentle breeze calmed her down and eased her beating heart back to its normal rate. The figure landed on the floor softly and approached her carefully.

           The familiar green outfit and the smile she loved oh so much made her chest flutter in excitement and glee. She threw the blanket to the side and stared at the young man, eyes tinged with confusion and wonder.

           “Venti? What are you doing here so late?” The said male giggled and flopped himself next to her and caressed her hair bringing it to his lips to kiss it. “Didn’t I tell you I’ll come to visit you?”

           [Name]’s brows dug and averted her gaze. “Well yes, but I wasn’t expecting this kind of time would be your visit.” 

           He intertwined their fingers together and pulled her form close to his as he gave light kisses on her neck. A breathy sigh was evoked from her lips and laid her head on his shoulder, reciprocating his hold she missed dearly.

           After giving her affections, Venti grabbed the shawl that was lying on the chair and draped it over her shoulder. “Come on, I want to show you something.” He gently pulled her up from her seat and took the pouch given by the traveler.

           “Won’t the guards see us and catch you once they know you’re intruding again?” She whispered and hesitantly allowed him to lead her. “No worries. It’ll be really quick.” He laughed mirthfully without care of the consequences.

           She heaved a sigh before asking, “Wait, why show it to me now? We can just do it when the morning dawn arrives.” He stopped his tracks in front of the window and faced her.

           “I wouldn’t be able to do that. The curfew, Sister, and then the traveler will steal you from me again…”

           She can feel her heart shatter at the sight of his downcast look but he quickly replaces it with a grin. “Now, don’t feel so blue. I can’t help but be saddened by it too. Let’s change it with a smile for something new?” He leaned close and brought his hand behind her as he rhymed, making her chuckle at his cute frolic.

           “See? It suits you more with a smile than a frown that has been compiled. Now let’s make haste before the moon will be replaced.”

           Venti pulled her as they exited from the opened window and knelt down on one knee with his back facing her. “I’ll carry you there,” [Name] looked around the area before obliging and wrapping her arms over his shoulder as he hoisted her up.

           From the distance, a certain traveler was aimlessly walking around for a midnight stroll. Aether was having trouble going back to sleep and left Paimon resting in the headquarters to relax his mind. The familiar face of Venti caught his eyes, bringing him wide awake and wondering what he was doing.

           It was even more surprising to see [Name] was with him. Wasn’t she supposed to rest to recover? What is she doing outside with him so late? He immediately hid behind the corner and watched them from afar in curiosity.

           Venti carefully had his hold underneath her knees and surreptitiously sauntered towards the Anemo God Statue Plaza. He easily summoned the wind to lift them up to the statue’s hands and landed gracefully. [Name] brought down her bare feet on the cold surface and admired the view from atop.

           “Careful.” He cautioned and held her arm. The female sat down and let her feet dangle at the edge. When Venti mimicked her actions, she laid her head on his shoulder surprising him but didn’t mind at all.

           He took out a pouch he had taken from her room and placed it in her hand. “You wanted to blow these dandelion seeds, right?” She glanced down at it and nodded. “Yeah, but how do you know they were dandelion seeds? I don’t recall telling you about it.”

           He cheekily smiled and laid his head on top of hers. “The scent of dandelion is easy for my nose to pick up. And knowing what you’ll do about it, I decided to help you.” 

           “Then can you cover your ears for a while?”

           Venti did as he was told though it’s not entirely covered per se. He left a bit of space to listen and know what she’ll whisper to the seeds but got caught red-handed. “No eavesdropping! You know this is something private.” She pouted.

           He lightly laughed and kissed her nose as an apology before covering them up again with his hands and turning his back.

           [Name] brought her hands close to her lips and whispered her wishes onto it. A handful of it should suffice, maybe in another day, she’ll do it again. She heard from Sister Grace that the dandelion seeds will carry their feelings in their hearts with the wind. 

           If it is true then she hopes the Anemo Archon, Barbatos, will listen to it and lead her message to a distant place.

           She gently blew them away and watched them scattered along with the air and drifted off as the glaze guided the particles to the unknown. 

 —

            [Name] read the text on the paper written by Aether as she discussed some things about it. She closed her eyes and smiled at him gratefully as Paimon floated above her head to take a peek at what’s written on it.

           Venti rested his chin on his palm and watched them from the other side of the room that separated him from his beloved. 

           What could they be talking about?

           The sound of shoes’ heels tapping against the tile brought him back to the real world and saw the blonde deaconess holding a tray of pastries and cups of tea in it. He jumped to his feet and neared her.

           “I can take it to them.” He outstretched his arms expecting Barbara to simply give it to him as he smiled at her blithely.

           The girl moved the tray away from his grasp and shook her head. “No, you won’t. Though I appreciate your offer, I can do it myself.” She looked at him apologetically when he frowned. His eyes followed her figure entering the room and huffed.

           “Sheesh. Why must nothing in life ever go right?” He slumped on the couch before taking another glimpse at the sunroom. He saw the Honorary Knight handed her another piece of paper as [Name]’s eyes scanned over the text.

           A forlorn expression was then etched on her visage. Her eyes turned glossy while she read the letter and her shoulders shook tremendously, accidentally crumpling the paper from her hold and holding it close to her as if it was something precious.

           Tears dribbled from her eyes, letting it flow freely on her cheeks as small drops of water fell on the ground. It hurt Venti to see her like this. It hurt him to see her cry.

           His heart ached to see her in this vulnerable state that he could do nothing but watch from the other side, not even allowing him to approach her to give her the comfort she needed.

 —

            Another night came by quickly. Aether was strolling at the town square to craft some materials and buy some food before heading back to the headquarters. When he felt a light tapping on his shoulder, he turned around and saw Venti standing there with a smile.

           “Oh, Venti. It’s good to see you again. Is something the matter?” He asked and faced him fully. “What are you doing?” The bard asked as he glanced at the bag he was holding.

           “Just shopping.”

           “Is it for [Name]?”

           The traveler paused, thinking of what he should say. There was nothing to hide from him so he presumed it was safe to tell him. 

           “Yes.” 

           When he answered, Paimon appeared out of nowhere and crossed her arms. “Hey! Be careful what you say to the Tone-Deaf Bard!” Both of them ignored her as Venti continued to question him.

           “Are you going to write letters with her again?” The blonde nodded in response. 

           “How long?”

           Paimon grumbled but before she could lash out at him, Aether grabbed her legs and covered her mouth with his hand. “Six more days.”

           Venti narrowed his eyes to the emergency ratio before looking back at him. “Who are you writing to?” The traveler’s mouth opened slightly and gave a quick answer.

           “It’s something I can’t tell you.”

           The archon clicked his tongue and glared, “Why?” His voice sounded more demanding than a question. Aether was taken aback by his tone. He never heard him so aggressive before that it made him shudder in fear.

           “It’s something confidential.” It took him a lot of courage to reply to him, hoping the raven-haired male won’t outrage at his vague answer. This is the only question he won’t answer. No matter who asked, only he, Paimon, and Barbara know who this is written for.

           “It can’t be someone from her family…” As much as it hurt Venti, he knew the fact [Name] was all alone and the Church had to be the one to take her in. He was always there for her, but so, who is this person she’s writing for that requires him not to be included?

           “Hey, tell me. Who is it for?” He asked more softly. Aether stared at him for a second then sighed quietly.

           “Venti, didn’t you come here for a reason?”

           “A reason…?” He echoed. He hummed and placed his fingers on his chin, thinking. “[Name]’s asleep and the nuns won’t let me check up on her,” Venti remarked and folded his arms.

           “Shouldn’t you need to rest as well?” Aether’s words made him snort in laughter. “Bold of you to assume that I require sleep.”

           Paimon was finally released from her companion’s grasp and pointed accusingly to the bard. “Then shouldn’t you go to a tavern or something?! That’s what you always do when it’s nighttime!”

           Venti let out an annoyed sound and looked at the small accomplice. “Well, I don’t want to!” Her eyes widened in shock and looked at Aether. “D-did you hear what he said? The Tone-Deaf Bard doesn’t want to drink?!”

           The latter sighed and shrugged his shoulders unsurely.

           “I’m going back! I bid you all goodnight!” Venti stomped his way out as the outlander watched his small form disappear from the distance, wondering what was his sudden change in tone all about.

 —

            Three days had already passed by and whenever Venti and Paimon saw each other, both of them had a glaring contest. It actually amused Aether to see this happened and when he told [Name] about this, it made her laugh.

           He was assured to know that Paimon was unintentionally occupying Venti’s time. He didn’t tell her about this though since he knew she would stay silent and back out. Aether and [Name] were glad to see Venti was returning back to normal with his usual rhymes appearing more often than ever.

           It did scare him whenever the bard gave him death glares when he’s not looking. He can feel those sharp glances ever since he came back to Mondstadt and he was sweating so furiously when he knew that.

           At least this time, it was getting less and less.

           Or so he thought.

           “Will this do?” Barbara handed her the paper and [Name]’s optics skimmed over the words, silently reading it. Her eyes caressed the strokes of the pen, seeing the personality behind the lines and punctuation marks. Finally reaching the last words of the letters she closed her eyes and smiled.

           “Yes, it’s perfect.”

           “I’ll write along these lines then,” Aether said and took another piece of paper and placed it in the platen as [Name] thanked him. The door slightly creaked open but went unnoticed by the three.

           Venti peeped at the small gap of the door and observed them. Instead of writing in the sunroom, they were currently inside her room to continue doing it. It was hard for him to find a location where he can keep watch of her, so taking a small peek won’t hurt right?

           The frail female’s breathing suddenly became shaky and the tightness on her chest arrived once more accompanying it with immense pressure. It alerted her when she saw the door was fully opened for her to see Venti standing there with a panicked look.

           “Venti...”

           He didn’t know Sister Jilliana was there, so when she turned around, he quickly made up an excuse and looked away from them. “I-I was just going to call for the traveler. Something urgent came up.” 

           “Is that so? Is it alright if we hold it for a while?” The nun asked him to which he avoided making eye contact with her. “Can I have a short break?” Aether jumped in and waited patiently for an answer.

           “H-huh? Why now?” Paimon asked. The blonde gestured her to play along and she quickly understood what he meant. Paimon flailed her arms in the air, an attempt to make it more convincing. “Oh! Um, yeah, we really need a break. I hope [Name] doesn’t mind it?” She meekly smiled at them.

           The sickly girl shook her head and told them it’s fine. The chair creaked when he stood up and approached Venti who had a distant look. He closed the door quietly and followed him until they stopped near the altar.

           “I suppose we both know that I just fabricated my words out there,” Venti mentioned that he didn’t bother to confront him. Aether nodded silently in agreement. 

           “I just wanted to check how she’s doing.” When he remained quiet, the archon called his name. “Hey, stop taking away the time she and I spend together.” He begged that his voice almost cracked.

           He was desperate to just be with her.

           “I’ll be gone in a few days.” The outlander stated and looked him directly in the eyes. 

           “Then at least please tell her I’ll be there while you’re writing the letters. I want to be by her side. I just wanna be there and hold her hand tight! Please!” Venti’s voice gets louder and louder, letting his words echo inside the church. He grabbed his shoulders and tightly dug his fingers onto them as he begged.

           Aether deterred his view from his and grabbed his hand, putting it back to his side. He feels guilty for doing this to him, but he has to keep his promises. No matter how much he pleaded, he had to deny all of his requests. 

           “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept that.” The bard gritted his teeth and pushed him. 

           “Why?!”

           He quickly regained his balance and looked away. “Excuse me, I have to go back.” The traveler left him alone in the nave as he strode back to [Name]’s room. Venti blankly stared at his back as his hands clenched into fists, making his knuckles turn white.

             “Do you think we can finish today?” [Name] asked and stared at the stacks of paper neatly arranged on the table. “If we maintain this pace, yes.” The Honorary Knight replied. Paimon gave her another paper and asked if she could review it.

           She suddenly took on a pale look, as if she’d been painted white-wash— even her lips were barely there. Beneath her feet, the wooden floor felt soft, not as much as even a firm carpet, but not right for oak plants. It was hard to make out the details of the room after the autumn fell outside; but after a while, she could make out the features of the room.

           Before she could grab onto the letter, her form abruptly collapsed as Aether quickly caught her to prevent her from injuring herself any further. “[Name]!” Barbara screamed in worry and approached her.

           “I’m… fine.” She assured them in between her breaths.

           “But—“

           “Please keep going.” She cut him off and looked at him pleadingly.

           The wind blew through the room with a powerful fury, scattering the stacked envelopes as if they were leaves of fall. The slam of the door was the tempest inside Venti made audible. 

           It was how he wrote the pain in the air, hoping that someone would understand how to stop [Name] from pushing herself— praying that there would be enough assurance in the world to calm the winds that tore at his insides.

           “That’s enough!” He shouted and ran to her, holding her weak form in his arms. “Just stop already!” Tears rolled down his cheek and cradled her close to him and cried on her shoulder, dampening the sleeves of her dress. When he felt someone touch his shoulder, he slapped it away. 

           No one should interfere with them. He had enough already. Can’t they see how critical he was to see her so weak as each day passed by?

           “Why… why must you write these letters…” His voice was hoarse from his shouting and buried his face on her hair to take in her scent. “Who are you writing them to?” He cried as if his brain was being shredded from the inside. Emotional pain flowed out of his every pore. 

           From his mouth came a cry so raw that even the eyes of the people around them were suddenly wet with tears. “They’re important letters.” She said and brushed his hair with her fingers to calm him.

           “They’re for someone I don’t know, right? Someone who doesn’t even visit when you’re sick!” [Name]’s eyes enlarged when his words entered her ears as she tightly clutched onto him. She can feel her own eyes swell up with emotions as she cries and let them escape freely without restraints. 

           “There’s nobody out there who’s truly worried about you!” 

           Everything was quiet except for their cries inside. When he pulled back, she wiped the salty fluid that stained his cheeks and leaned on his shoulder. “Are the letters more important than me?” He uttered, the tone in his voice was shaky and breathy.

           [Name] kissed his head and ran her fingers through his hair to soothe him. “Nothing’s more important to me than you, Venti.” He sniffed and rubbed his eyes with his hand to get a clear view of her appearance.

           “Why is everything full of lies...” Her brow arched in confusion as she felt his fingers tightly gripping her waist. 

           “You aren’t getting any better at all. They said you’d recover soon!” So many tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down on his face. His chin trembled and breathed heavier than he had before.

           “I know that you’re… I’m going to be all alone again when you’re gone!” His throat burned from screaming. Even gasping for air was simply not enough for him. [Name]’s [eye color] optics are slowly but surely becoming glassy. 

           Tears are now streaming down her cheeks from his words. She hugged him tighter and whispered sweet nothings to him, no matter how much she tried to assuage him, it only failed as he continued to sob hysterically and screamed on top of his lungs.

           “How much longer do I have with you?!”

           Barbara sniffled her cries by covering her mouth with her hand and turned away as it ached her heart to know [Name]’s undecided fate. 

           “If I’m going to be left alone all over soon,” Venti grazed his fingers on her face and connected their hands, afraid she’ll disappear if he let go of her.

           “Then forget about the letters and spend this time with me! Be with me! Please, [Name]!!” Aether slowly approached them and lifted the bard up by grabbing his shoulders. He knows he’ll try to escape from his hold and so he tightly grips his arm to stop him from getting close to [Name]. 

           When he turned to face the traveler, there was no sign of tears. Not in his eyes or in track marks on his reddening face. His eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, and hard. Once more, Aether was the enemy. Venti’s states had no greyscale, only the polar extremes existed.

           The blonde took in a deep breath, the burning hard stare would last only as long as it took him to think of the most brutally cutting things he could tear him down with. 

           “Let go of me, Aether!!” He ignored his request and did his best to hold him a bit longer until he calmed down. Venti gnashed his teeth and because of too much resentment he had for the traveler, he disappeared into the thin air with teal feathers fluttering along.

             Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he ran and ran outside of the city. His calves burned, his breathing forming clouds in the air becoming short gasps. He started cramping and his body shook uncontrollably, finally stopping in front of the giant tree in Windrise.

           He was on his knees on the ground, facing the tree, screaming and crying. His whole face is red and shouting at the very top of his lungs. His upper body and shoulders wrack with every sob that forces their way out, chest rising and falling unevenly as he gasps for breath, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

           He balled his hands into fists and gripped his hair to let out a blood-curdling scream. Unbeknownst to Venti, Aether chased after him after his disappearance and stopped in his tracks when he saw his curled up form. 

           “Venti…”

           The said male continued sobbing and disregarded his presence. “I’m taking the time you can spend with [Name] away for a good reason.” Aether justified.

           “Shut up…”

           “It���s only natural that this would be painful for you. You’re already carrying the burden of her illness on your body. So please stay strong for her.”

           “Shut up!”

           The archon lifted his unsteady body and faced him. Endless streams of cries continuously flowed on the sides of his face and choked out, “I made her cry…”

           “No, you were worried about her condition.”

           “You’re wrong.” Venti countered.

           “I’m not.”

           He dashed at him and punched his chest making him fall back on the ground. “You’re wrong! You’re wrong! She fell sick because of me!” He shouted and proceeded to throw punches at him repeatedly.

           “You had nothing to do it with.”

           “You’re wrong!!”

           Each punch slowed down and grew weaker, allowing Aether to ease his raged up condition while Venti mindlessly poured out all of his emotions onto him. 

           “There was nothing anybody could’ve done.” The former muttered under his breath. 

           “Shut up!”

           “Just like how the unknown god captured my sister from me. I couldn’t do anything to save her there… Nothing can be done about this.” The bard’s brows creased as he went quiet and stopped hitting him.

           He already lost count of how many times he had cried on this day. His gaze cast downwards as he fell on the ground, breaking down. 

           “[Name]… [Name]…” Aether knelt down before him and rubbed his back reassuringly. “Why do you write those letters?” He inquired whilst his shoulders trembled.

           “Because everyone has feelings they want to deliver to someone.”

           “Who cares about that? They don’t have to be!” It only brought him more pain and isolation, and so Aether can be quite sure that the cries are of the desperate pain that keeps on slicing deeper.

           The blonde’s golden optics were flicked with dolefulness, continuing to stroke his back. “No letter that could be sent deserves to go undelivered.” Out of complete silence, the cry arose. Out of complete reverence, the things of the world stilled to listen.

           Venti’s mind was clouded with pain and sorrow, his heart grew cold and numb with pent up emotion. Over lands and seas, through forests and valleys. Every ear in the universe stilled to listen, every heart broke, so heavy so miserable his song.

 —

            It was the final day and they have eventually finished writing. It was time for Aether and Paimon to take their leave. Venti sighed in relief to receive the news that there were no more letters to write. No more Aether of taking [Name]’s time. And also no more signs to see the emergency food.

           They were currently outside the Cathedral as she wanted to bid them farewell and safe travels. His warm hand made contact with hers and secretly poked his tongue out at Paimon to annoy her.

            Her squeaky voice reached their ears and stomped her feet in the air as she faced her companion with an irked look. “Ugh, I can’t stand that Tone-Deaf Bard! Let’s just go already!”

           [Name] chuckled while Venti only brought her closer to his body and slithered his arms around her waist protectively. He puffed his cheeks out as they watched their figure disappear below. Unlike her, he didn’t wave them goodbye much to her confusion.

           She asked him about it in which she only received a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders and a short yet sweet kiss on the lips from her lover.

           Aether was no stranger. He wasn’t a piece of bad news either. Deep down he knows he’s a thoughtful and sympathetic person.

           I wish I could’ve read the letters they wrote.

           He stole glances at her before pushing her inside the Cathedral to go back to her room and cuddle with her.

           I wonder who they were for.

           “[Name],” He called out. She hummed to let him know her attention was on him. He rubbed circles on the back of her hand and kissed the nape of her neck as he whispered softly against it.

           “I love you.” 

           A small chuckle slipped from his lips when he saw how her cheeks flared up from his confession. She turned around and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, attacking him with shy kisses.

           “I love you too.”

            Seasons fade in and out like soft lullabies, their transitions slow but never faltering. Like mother earth herself they only turn in one direction, always onward and never back as the wax and wane of the pace of city life changes. 

           In summer, everyone is high in energy, all systems go. With the first wash of autumn air, moving over the high-rises and suburbia like a shallow wave, the people slow down to a quieter pace. 

           The winter is flatter still, but never falling into a negative spin, the folks of this city love the snow too much for that. 

           Then spring comes to wake the metropolis: people, trees, and blooms. Folks walk under newly unfurled leaves, smile at the fresh new flowers, and tilt their faces upward to the new warmth in the sun's rays. 

           Soon summer is back and the seasonal carousel is complete for another year.

           All those seasons he had spent with her, he cherished them the most in his heart and held it dearly like a gift given to him. He kept the memories and spent his life with her during those past months.

            Here come the drops, soft and steady, falling from a sky of white velvet. They come all together and yet as pioneers. And though he is soon quite wet, he stood idly in front, letting the drops blurred his vision.

           They stood at the front of the funeral. Everyone's heads were down. Maybe it was them showing respect or maybe they were too afraid to look at what was coming. The coffin was pulled from the hearse by six strong men, all wearing suits. The silence dwelled as they exited the church. It wobbled as they carried it to the front and gently placed it down.

           The coffin was dark stained cherry and it was perfectly polished. It had a cushioned and silky lining. Struggling to hold back the grief, tears flow steadily. Silently down the immobile face, a feeling of ache swarmed within him. The numbness and emptiness remained as they walked behind the mahogany coffin— the soul unwilling to acknowledge the finality of death, never to look upon her face again or feel her embrace.  To see the warmth in her eyes, or be surrounded by her love. 

           Words from the minister, speeches at the service bring a fresh onslaught of tears, well-spoken words, a tribute to her life and love, everyone in black, dusky pink roses on the casket; they all watched the casket lowered into the grave through tear-stained eyes. 

           One by one they all left, leaving him alone standing in her grave, as he cried his goodbye to his love.

 —

            A dove was soaring in the sky, fluttering its wings in the air as Venti watched it fly over to him. In its feet was a paper rolled and clutched onto it. When it landed on his lap, he gently took the item from the bird and unfolded it.

           His emerald eyes scanned over the writing, taking in each word inside his head.

            Dear Venti,

           Happy birthday! I’m sure there are many things that make you sad. You may be crumbling under the weight of your responsibilities. But don’t give in.

           Even if you’re so lonely that it makes you cry, please don’t forget that I’ll always love you.

            A lone tear dropped on the paper as his cheeks were stained wet from reading the letter he had received. He brought it close to his chest as if it were her that he loved holding so dear.

            Four years passed by, and the fourth later had arrived.

            Dear Venti,

           Happy birthday! I love you with my aura, placing it about you like the deepest star-filled sky. Space and time have no meaning for my love, it has always been boundless and eternal. It is a love that self-sustains through even the meanest of winters, its own heat, and light is the warmth, the hope.

           Even if you were cold to the core, I would wake you like the spring wakes the flower and watch you grow, watch you bloom. Everything that I am is yours… All I ask is to take care of yourself in the same way you would care for a person you love completely, in the same way, I love you.

            The twelfth letter was delivered.

            Dear Venti, 

           Happiest birthday, love! I love you so very much sweetheart. I have a hard time explaining how I feel. I have never felt anything like this before. You are always there for me no matter what. 

           You are the most loving, caring, compassionate, and absolutely most incredible person that I have ever met. Thank you for always being there, for the flowers— they are beautiful, for your kind words, hugs, kisses, and unconditional love. I have never in my life been so very happy. I feel much loved, beautiful, and very happy.

           I'm so proud of you. You are a very strong person. It is really amazing that we are strong for each other in different ways. We truly understand each other and feel for each other. When you hurt, I hurt. When you are happy, I'm happy. I just love you so much and I never want to lose you. I give you my heart, my love, and my life for now and forever. 

           I love you.

           He always waits for each year for his birthday to come, for her letters to be delivered to him. The messages were getting longer and longer as every year passed and even the past memorandum he had received, he still kept it with him.

            Happy birthday, love! I hope you know that it’s okay to cry once in a while. Whenever you're anxious or afraid, always remember I’ll always be here. I love you more than life itself. There are no words I can say to truly tell you how much I really love you.            

           I want to thank you that you were the reason I stayed strong even if I was sick. I learn more and more from you every day. My heart is forever yours. I know saying, "I love you" is powerful, yet I feel it's not enough. 

           You give me the most amazing feelings inside. It feels great to actually love and be loved in return. I love you so much, I wish I could repeat it to you so many times.

           Please remember, I’ll always and forever be watching over you.

            Now here he was at the hands of the Statue, watching the skies move as the dove once again landed on his shoulder. His eyes caught on the sight of the dandelion seeds soaring past as a smile tugged his lips.

           He remembered [Name]’s wish for him when they were out here to blow the seeds away late at night. So every time he sees a dandelion up above in this statue, it reminds him of her and he’s here to fulfill it.

  —

            “Welcome back.” Jean greeted from the office as Aether placed the stack of letters on the table. “That’s a lot of letters.” Kaeya whistled in amusement and ran his fingers on it to feel the scratchy and thick envelopes.

           “They’re letters set to be delivered to Venti over the next fifty years.” He announced and stretched his arms to relieve the cramps formed in his limbs. Lisa almost spitted on her tea and gawked at him in surprise.

           “F-fifty years? No wonder why you wrote so much.” She set down her cup and grabbed a napkin to wipe her lips.

           “Were you alright?” The Acting Grandmaster asked in worry. Aether and Paimon nodded as they smiled. “It was no biggie for us.”

           “I must say this is a wonderful idea,” Kaeya remarked and grabbed a stack of it to feel the weight on his hands. “I’m already excited to see them delivered every year.”

           “Me too, but…” Their chattering ceased as their focus went on his face which had his cheek dripped with liquid. It was surprising to see the traveler cry in front of them, though they didn't dare open their mouths to point it out.

           “By the time they are, [Name] will already be gone and she’s still so young— so quick to get lonely, will have been left by the one he loves so much.” Crying is natural and strong for it belongs to those with the courage to show their vulnerable self, and this was none other than Aether himself.

 ��         He recalled the day he saw both of them snuck out from the Cathedral. He didn’t mean to watch them, but he knew how both of them cared for each other so much and their love for one another just by observing [Name]’s words written on the letters and Venti’s affectionate yet protective hold on her.

           He understood how Venti felt. He knows the feeling of losing someone you love so dearly. The bard already told him about his history with his friend from long ago and now that it was recurring again, it aches his heart to know he’ll lose someone again.

           It’s like history is repeating itself.

           “He’ll be all alone again. I…” He balled his fists and closed his eyes tightly. The tears trickled down his face as he sobbed quietly. The members of the Knights approached him and rubbed his back to comfort him.

           “I was fighting back tears the entire time I was there.”

           “Yes, but Aether,” Lisa lifted his face and looked at him with gentle eyes. “He will receive the letters you’ve assisted [Name] writing in.” He wiped his tears and eyed the envelopes with lustrous vision.

           “Besides, no matter how far apart they may be…

            loved ones will always watch over you.”

heavily inspired by violet evergarden

[fggtwrmz]

✞ pretty little sinner ✞

Hihi!! Taz here with this accounts first ((technically second)) post! This ones a full fic so it’s v lengthy

warnings: dubcon, noncon is you squint, size kin, dirty talk, talk of breeding, oral, religious themes, degradation, dumbification, dacryphilia, talk of corruption, did i mention degradation? cus we went a lil ham on degration, very rough in general, no like seriously kuroos hella mean here

please mind the warnings and leave if your uncomfortable with any listed!!

wc: 7.6k

The whole small town that you had lived in had known you and your parents as the perfect catholic family, and why would they have any reason to not believe that? After all, you were always such a good girl. The pride and joy of your parents’ lives, you did good in school, never complained about chores, and attended church every Sunday. That’s right, you were the perfect little catholic school girl. 

That's what drew you into him. 

You looked so innocent, so pure, so breakable, he just had to have you. 

And that cute little cross necklace you wore to show your faith? He just wanted to rip it off of you. Have you worship him instead. 

When you had spoken to him you didn’t imagine what he would actually be like. He’d put up such a sweet facade. But that's all it was. 

A facade. 

“What’s someone as pretty as you doing in a place like this, Dollface?” Came out the velvety voice of the walking personification of temptation himself; Kuroo Tetsuro. 

You had heard about him through whispered rumors throughout the halls. He had an infamous reputation. But rumors were just that. Rumors.

So you humored him. 

“At….The corner store? I’m getting snacks, what does it look like?” You had to giggle. It was such a foolish question. So foolish that you didn’t know the weight that it had held. 

He had you hook, line, and sinker, you were just too innocent to realize. And he had been oh so sweet to accept your invitation to church on Sunday! Of course, you had to ask him, the house of God was as good a place to get to know someone as any. Much better than a dingy corner store anyway. 

His words were sweet and charming, even for just a small chat. There was a look on his face that made you suspect something, but the way he spoke pushed your suspicions. 

So when Sunday came and you saw him waiting for you at the door, in what appeared was his normal attire, you still gave him a big smile and waved him over to where you and your parents were. 

“Kuroo! You made it!” You wanted to embrace him in a hug, but you felt that would be a little too familiar for someone you had only met yesterday at a convenience store. “Of course I made it, I wouldn’t blow someone as cute as you off.” He spoke, caressing your cheek. 

Of course he wasn't nervous about being too familiar. 

You felt the warmth rush to your cheeks, the affection catching you off guard. 

“Sorry if I seem a bit underdressed.”  He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, though it seemed as if he didn’t care. His attire could be deemed inappropriate for a church setting. His ripped jeans, loose-fitting button-up shirt, Jordan Retros, contrasting with your pure white short sleeve blouse, frilly plaid green and black skirt, and shining black Mary Janes, and of course that shiny cross necklace that hung so prettily from your neck. 

You giggled, “No worries! I’m sure if you had shown up naked the lord wouldn’t turn you away.” 

And there you went again, going on about how the lord would love anyone, sinner or saint. He’d wondered how you would react if you knew the sins he had committed, had planned to commit. 

He wondered what filthy sins such a precious girl like you were hiding under that short little skirt of yours. 

He couldn’t wait to find out. 

You had taken your seat in the far back pews, opting to sit in between him and your parents. You’d been paying attention to your pastor, up until you felt a warm, calloused hand rest itself on your thigh. 

You looked up with a curious look, but Kuroo seemed to be more focused on the word of the holy father than you, so you relaxed at his touch. Keyword; seemed. 

And that wasn’t all he was planning to do, unfortunately for you. 

He rubbed up and down your upper thigh, occasionally squeezing the soft flesh between your skirt’s end and your thigh highs beginning, pushing your skirt just a little higher up your thighs to get more space. 

At that moment you thought you'd absolutely die if your parents looked over at the sinful act that was going on between you two, but when you looked over they were both too caught up in the pastor’s prayer to notice anything. 

His hand moved inward, causing your breath to hitch. His fingers practically brushed against your core, causing you to let out a gasp. It was loud enough for just him to hear but low enough to where your parents wouldn’t suspect anything. 

You placed a hand on his wrist, signaling it was not the time for this. He simply flashed a smirk, never looking down your way. His fingers made their way to your panties, gently rubbing against your folds, you ended up dampening the garments in the process. 

You sucked in your breath, now holding onto his wrist with a feverish grip, notifying him just how on edge you were. 

“Time for the communion! Everyone, form a line, children, teenagers, then adults.” Father announced.

You let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding in. 

Your pastor had just saved you from eternal damnation. 

You and Kuroo walked in line, behind a couple of kids and in front of a few more teens. He rubbed down your shoulders and arms, sending chills down your spine. 

You held your hands behind your back as children took their crackers which were symbolic of the flesh of Jesus, their “wine” symbolic of the blood of Christ, and scattered back to their seats. 

When it was your turn, Kuroo made sure to keep a keen eye on the way your head tilted back ever so slightly when you had opened your mouth for the cracker to be placed on your tongue. 

He wondered what other situations you would be in such an arguably compromising position. 

You ate the cracker and took the small, plastic shot glass-like cup with you back to your seat. 

“Nah,” Kuroo shook his head, declining the offer of the cracker, and took the cup, downing it and throwing it in the small trash bin next to the pastor, walking back to his seat, not looking back. 

He sat back down next to you, his hands in his pockets this time. You stared ahead, waiting for anything to happen, the tension between you two was so thick you could cut it with a knife. 

Suddenly, he leaned down to your ear, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck. “By the way, you get so fucking wet. It’d be pathetic if it weren't so adorable.” He hummed, sending heat straight to your core. 

You gasped at his words, looking up at him as he leaned back up. “Kuroo!” You whispered. “You shouldn’t curse in the house of the lord!” 

He looked down at you and chuckled slightly. 

“Oh princess, if it were just us here I’d do so much worse.” He teased, making your eyes widen. Heat rushed over your body, causing you to break eye contact with him. His gaze became too much to bear. 

Your parents and pastor had warned you of temptation before, but you had always thought it would be easy to overcome. You would have never thought that it could be something like this. His words and gentle touches felt like too much yet not enough all at the same time. 

You wanted it all to stop, but yet you wanted to beg for more. 

But you had to keep your composure, God's eyes were on you, you reminded yourself. 

But all you could feel was his eyes on. They were fixated on you. The thought alone of that insatiable look in his eye made your thighs pressed together and your throat run dry. It all made your head reel. 

And just like that, it was over. 

You had been so lost in thought that it took Kuroo shaking you to make you notice everyone getting up and gathering outside for the weekly catch-ups that turned, “just a few minutes dear, and then I swear we’ll leave,” into 30 minutes and plans to babysit Mrs. Johnson's grandsons next weekend. 

“Is it time to go?” Kuroo asked you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“Only the adults are leaving, the teenagers and children stay for Sunday school, that’s why I’m wearing this outfit.” You whispered to him. 

He went silent until he proposed an idea that caught you way off guard. “We should go back to my place for bible study, I might be able to show you a different type of God.” 

Your eyebrows raised at the sudden invitation, you didn’t know what he meant by that, but you know it’d be rude to decline such an offer since he had come to Sunday worship despite his belief in this “other type of god”. 

Before you could answer he tapped your mother’s shoulder, catching the attention of both of your parents. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but can I speak to you for a second?” He asked politely. Your parents said their goodbyes to Sister Elise and stepped away with you and Kuroo. “Yes?” Came the voice of your mother. 

“Would it be alright if me and your sweet daughter here, a real angel if I do say so, could go back to mine so we can go over the Psalms? I would offer to do it over the phone but the lord’s word can only be understood in person.” It’s like he had the good Christian boy next door role down pact. 

Your parents looked at each other worriedly. “I don’t know, will there be a guardian to watch over you two?” Your father asked. “Yes sir, my fathers at work, but my mother will be there. I promise I’ll have her home at a reasonable time.” He promised.

Oh yeah, he has this little act down to the T, not like you could see through it though. You were so naive and thought that you could bring out the good in him with the help of good. How foolish. 

Your father looked at his watch. “It's five now, so have her home no later than eight. Understood?” “Crystal clear, thank you, sir. Shall we get going?” He asked you, a perfect and pure smile plastered on his face. 

He was too perfect, your parents already adored him. 

Too bad it was only to get in your pants. 

———

You were on his bed. His room smelled of pinewood and lavender. You drowned in the scent, loving every second of it. 

His room was nothing like yours, he had deep red walls, wooden floors, and everything looked to be either black or red, barely any other colors being seen other than the clothes in his closet, and some other things you couldn’t identify, but he shut it before you could get a good look. 

“Sorry if my room is a bit dirty, I didn’t think about cleaning up before inviting you.” He apologized, closing the curtains. 

You loved the way he spoke, it was like his words were coated with chocolate. His luscious and velvety voice made you think things, things the lord would frown upon. 

“No worries! Nobody’s perfect.” You kindly reassured him with a polite smile. 

He’d think differently, you were a goddess in his eyes. Every part of you, even everything he couldn’t see, not that he’d be in the dark for much longer. 

He chuckled, his eyes wandering down your figure, undressing you with his eyes, as you sat innocently on his bed waiting for whatever he might do. 

“So where’s your mom?” You asked innocently, catching him off guard. “What?” “You said your mom was here, where is she? I didn’t see her when we walked in.” 

He’d already forgotten. Typical. 

“Oh, she’s probably taking a nap.” He lied with ease. 

He didn’t think he'd be able to forgive himself if he was in the presence of his mother while thinking about such ungodly things. He planned to defile you, and he wanted to be the only one who even got close to experiencing you in such a state.  

“Oh well-uhm...I’ll be sure to be quiet so I don’t disturb her.” 

He held in a chuckle. There was no way that you would be quiet, no way you could be quiet when he got his way.

“So…. While I have no real interest in changing faiths, I have to ask about the god that you worship.” 

He had you right where he wanted you. 

He hovered over your frame at the edge of the bed, him standing and towering over you. He’d lifted your chin to look up at him with the tips of his fingers and said in a delightfully sinful tone, 

“Oh baby,” He leaned in close to your ear, you could feel his hot breath on your sensitive skin. “I’m the new god, and you're gonna worship me like I’m your true creator.” 

You felt yourself shrink, yes at the way he was menacingly towering over you, but at the way he describes his God—no, himself. 

“You-you’re...the god you were talking about?” You stammered, your hands on his chest, trying to make some distance between you and his dominating presence. 

Sadly to no avail. 

“Mhm, and you’re going to be a good girl and obey me, understood?” 

 "Y-yes, sir." 

"Awe look at you, using your manners without me having to tell you. Keep that up and you just might get a reward." He cooed.

You felt a familiar heat pool at the pit of you. 

What was he going to do to you? What were these sudden temptations? And most importantly why did you want more. 

This was god testing you, and you were failing miserably. 

You wanted so badly to give in to your desires. To leave behind the life of that sweet innocent angel that everyone once knew, you wanted to give yourself wholly to your new one and only savior. 

You were really doing this. 

You were abandoning the only faith you’d ever known for some stranger. 

For all you know he could be a demon from hell himself, here to stray you away from the path the lord had originally sent you to. No, he couldn’t be a demon. He was so sweet when the two of you had first met, and he was so polite when addressing your parents. 

You felt like Eve, being tempted with such a delicious specimen by the devil himself. So when he pushed his lips against yours harshly, like Eve, you gave in. 

His lips molded perfectly against yours. Your tongues were dancing in an elegant waltz that could only be described as heavenly. His lips tasted so sweet on yours. If this was the forbidden fruit you would happily taste it again and again. 

His hands roamed your backside, hiking your skirt up so he could get a feel of your cotton panties. Your breathing sped, feeling him caress your clad ass. You’d always been told to never let anyone touch you like this unless you’re married, but I guess your god was the only exception. 

That’s right. Kuroo was god now, and you had to let him do whatever you want.

Suddenly, he roughly pulled your skirt off, throwing it behind him. You whimpered, afraid he might’ve ripped your skirt. 

Feeling his rough hands run up your sides and into your shirt, he stopped kissing you to look down, causing you to let out a whine, missing the feeling of his lips on yours. 

“Awe baby, don’t look so sad, I’ll get your mouth back to work real soon.” He whispered, trying to unbutton your shirt. Trying. 

You could tell he was getting frustrated at how the buttons wouldn’t come undone. 

He groaned loudly, grabbing an open hole of your blouse and ripping it open, making the buttons of your shirt fly everywhere. You gasped, whining because now you didn’t have anything to come home in. 

“Kuroo! How am I supposed to go home without a shirt?” You whined, hearing him chuckle soon after. 

“Hush, you’ll be fine don’t worry, you won’t be needing it anytime soon.” Kuroo reassured with a smirk.

He unclipped your bra and threw it behind him, looking down hungrily at your tits, admiring how perfect they were. He cupped one of them and proceeded to place the other in his mouth. You let out a soft moan, awakening something fierce in him. 

“Oh fuck, I can’t wait to hear more of those sweet sounds, princess. That’s right, let it all out for me baby.” 

He kissed up your chest and to your neck, peppering kisses and bite marks on you. Claiming you. 

He bit down on a certain spot, making you moan out, your fingers getting intertwined with the back of his hair. Your legs clung onto his waist as he abused the spot with his mouth, leaving dark hickeys. 

Your moans became needier when he brought his knee up to your cunt, grinding it right against your clit, making you wetter by the second. 

You felt high on ecstasy, the pleasure becoming heavenly, but what made everything pure bliss was his words. 

The way he’d call you his baby, his princess in between kisses, and the best of all, his little sinner. 

Being called his sinner made you feel a different type of feeling. It felt wrong, you could feel the heavens looking down on you in disappointment with each response you gave him. 

Yes, you’d be giving up your oath to stay pure until marriage, but if it’s your god taking your virginity, what harm could be done?

When he lifted up off you, you were snapped from your pleasure. 

He was looking down at your body and you resting upwards on your elbows, wondering why he’d left. 

“Get on your knees.” It wasn't a request. It was an order. One that you, of course, didn’t even think to disobey. 

So there you sat. All pretty and kneeling in front of him as if he was an alter. 

 You looked like such a perfect slut in his eyes. Who knew that such an innocent little virgin could look like the perfect whore. 

He wouldn’t tell you that though. No, he wanted to warm you up first. Call you such sweet names, make you feel like his precious baby girl and then let you know just how much of a dirty slut he thought you were.

Knew you were. 

All you needed was a push in the right direction. And he would provide that push. 

“Now you want to know how to appease your god, don’t you?” 

You nodded from in between his legs enthusiastically. 

“Well, first, you have to atone for your sins. Now how would we go about doing that?” 

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know what to say. 

“C’mon baby, be a good girl and use your words. How would you atone for your sins? Think about the position you're in before you answer.” 

You looked down at your legs which were folded underneath you and looked back up at him. 

“P-Prayer?” 

He couldn’t help but laugh at your innocence. “Oh princess, so innocent even in such a vulgar position baby. You’re gonna atone for your sins by sucking me off. You don't want me to be mad, do you?” 

Of course you didn’t. You didn’t even understand what sins you had even committed, but if Kuroo says you’ve sinned, you'll let him do anything to make you holy again. 

He stood up and unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock and waving it teasingly over you. 

“Now stick out your tongue.” 

You did as you were told, eyes never leaving his cock. It was the only one you’d ever seen, and the only one you ever wanted to see. It was a good 7 or 8 inches and about 4 inches wide in girth. 

It had the drool pooling at the bottom of your tongue before falling on your thigh high socks. It felt every bit as sinful as it looked and it had your panties soaked. You'd grinded against yourself for some sort of friction. 

“Awe, so pretty for me, now listen to me, you're gonna take everything I give you, ok princess?” 

You nodded, feeling as if your voice would betray if you tried to speak. 

“What’d I say about using your words? Such a shame, you were being so good earlier.” 

“Sorry sir, please don’t be mad, I promise I’ll-I'll take it all. I'll be so good for you.” The words were coming out faster than you could control. If someone would have told you that you would be in that predicament about a week ago you would have laughed in their face. But here you were, begging for him to do something, anything. 

You sounded absolutely brain dead and he loved it. 

“Ah, yeah that’s it, that’s my good girl.” He said grabbing you by your hair and gently guiding you down his shaft. 

“Fuck baby, ‘gonna train this throat so well you’ll be ready to worship this cock with your mouth anytime of any day.” He growled, lowering your head down faster, soon hearing you gag over his length. You felt tears prick your eyes as he finally thrusted his full length in your mouth, going well past your limits. 

He lets out a dark chuckle, suddenly being cut off by a throaty moan. 

“Ah f-fuck princess you’re being such a good girl, now remember to breathe through your nose.” He reminded you, resulting in you looking up at him and nodding, letting him know you understood. 

Your parents would disown you if they knew what you were doing. Your pastor and priest wouldn’t even think of speaking to you. You’d only have Kuroo, but that doesn’t sound too bad. After all, you had devoted your life to your religion in the past, so what would be so different now? You’d just be able to indulge in such fine luxuries as getting facefucked after church. 

He put his other hand on your head, roughly shoving your head down, matching the bucking upwards of his hips. The action erupted a loud groan from him, throwing his head back. 

You could feel him all the way down your throat. 

“Oh yeah, that’s my good girl, fucking hell baby girl,” he moaned, you could feel his thrusting start to get uneven, your throat not having anymore time to adjust to his size and abuse. 

His pace was absolutely brutal but you sat there, taking everything he gave you.

On the inside you were smiling, happy to please your god, you felt so proud of yourself for making him feel good. Being his good little girl. His obedient little worshipper. 

Your eyes became watery, the way he roughly thrusted into your mouth made your throat hurt, which made your eyes water. 

He bit his lip, lowering the sound of the grunt he let out. “Mmf, baby you look so pretty right now, such a pretty fucking princess for me.” He grunted. 

You didn’t feel pretty, though. Your face was covered in tears, sweat, makeup, and ran down mascara. Your hair was under Kuroo’s grip, messily overlapping his hands. Strings of drool were hanging from your plump lips onto your thighs, not to mention your soaked panties. 

Kuroo on the other hand looked heaven sent. Hair messily askew and face tinted slightly red. Biting his lip while sweat slid down his forehead. He looked like he was graced by God.

He looked like he was graced by God.

You felt ashamed at how wet you got by just looking at him, but fuck was he sexy. 

He shoved your head down quicker and quicker, thrust harder into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck baby you’re gonna-you’re gonna make me—” His groans became more and more breathy, and his working became more and more sloppy, until you felt a warm, thick, sticky liquid coat the insides of your mouth. 

The foreign substance tasted bitter and you wanted to spit it—

“Ah ah,” he sang, grabbing your chin to make you look up at him. 

You looked disgusting. He wanted to see you like this more often.

 “Be good and swallow for me, baby girl.” 

You gulped down the liquid, feeling it still in your throat, but it didn’t bother you enough to where you couldn’t breath. 

“Di-did I do good, sir?” You sounded absolutely broken, and it was like music to his ears. 

“You did amazing, I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard. Does your face feel alright?” He cooed, tucking himself back into his pants. 

“My jaw hurts, and so does my throat, but I’m glad I got to make you feel good.” 

Kuroo smirked, admiring what he molded you into. Such a dedicated disciple, you deserve an award. “Now it’s your turn. Come on, hop up on the bed for me,” he commanded, patting the spot on his bed beside him. 

You did so eagerly, not wanting to break your obedience streak. You sat on your feet, your hands resting on each of your thighs, smiling with the light shining beautifully in your eyes. 

Even as the mascara ran down your cheek, you looked so beautiful to him. 

“Lay down.” He softly said. You obeyed, as usual, keeping your legs closed in the air. You had no idea what he was thinking of doing. 

“Spread them for me, babes.” He commanded. You were confused, why did he want your legs spread? 

“Wait, why?” You asked innocently. His eyebrows furrowed.

 “Because I said so. You’re not really denying the word of your lord, are you?”

Of course you didn’t. You were completely devoted to him, so without further hesitation you spread your legs. He pulled your drenched panties up off you and threw them somewhere in the room. 

He ducked himself inbetween your thighs and planted your thighs on the side of his head with a secure grip. 

“W-Wait!” You squeaked out. 

“What’s wrong baby? You’ve been such a good girl, and good girls deserve rewards now don’t they?”  He acts like this is for you, when in all honesty it’s all been for him. This whole time he’s only been fulfilling his desires of turning you from a sweet and innocent princess into a filthy fucked out whore and he knows this will only speed the process a bit, you just so happen to be getting some pleasure out of it. 

“Yeah I gue- Ah!” A moan cut you off when you felt him lick up your wet folds, moaning your legs jolt up and your back arch. 

He plunged his tongue into you, his thick tongue thrusts into you, making your moans come out in squeaks. You felt absolutely amazing already. 

His tongue circled around your clit, pushing his tongue in and out of you in patterns; leaving his tongue in, out, for a second, then in again going back to sucking and circling.

Your moans became higher and breathier each time his tongue circled your clit, it drove him absolutely crazy.

He was...spelling something? You could feel it as he kept making the same trails around your cunt. 

K,

U,

R,

O,

O. 

Kuroo. 

“Mmph, Kuroo, more please…” You moaned tugging at his hair. He slid his thumb up your thigh, rubbing your clit as he pushed his tongue deeper in you, prodding your sweet spot.

The sudden action made you cry out in pleasure, tugging at his hair. He moaned from under you at the sudden mix of pain and pleasure on his scalp.

Kuroo stuck his tongue in and out of you, continuing to rub your clit with his thumb. You felt a tingling sensation grow low in your stomach, making your grip tighten on Kuroo’s hair and while your other frantically grabbed at his sheets, the foreign feeling traveling through your entire being. 

You moaned his name, wanting to ask him what the sensation was, but your mind only focused on him, making barely anything come out other than moans and his name. 

His fingers sped up as his tongue explored your walls. The sensation made you tighten, sending chills through your core as the pressure became too much to process alone.

Your legs twitched as your orgasm rocked through you, your eyes rolling back, gripping his hair tightly.

All that you could think of in that moment was Kuroo. KurooKurooKurooKuroo. It was a repeating mantra in your mind.

Your walls tightened around Kuroo’s tongue, a moan squeaking from your throat. Your grip tightened as you came, covering his tongue. You came from your high slowly, allowing you to let out a satisfied sigh. 

You smiled peacefully as he hungrily lapped at your clit, making sure not to let a single drop of your cum slip from his tongue. 

As he pulled out his fingers and lifted up from your body, you relaxed, your legs falling and your hand bringing itself to rest upon your stomach. 

He came up and captured your lips in a bruising kiss, making sure you could taste yourself on his tongue. You tried pushing him away, not liking the taste of yourself, but he slapped your thigh, taking your hands and holding both of them above your head. 

You whimpered squirming, uncomfortable with him holding you down. You shook your head in the kiss, trying to get away, but he only took this as an invitation to slide his tongue into your mouth. 

You moaned into the kiss, feeling your body temperature rise as he rocked against you, grinding against your thigh. The foreign feeling felt weird, but knowing you were giving him pleasure did cloud your mind with a hazy fog. 

He parted ways from the kiss and looked down on you. 

You looked so fucked out, and the real fun hadn’t even started yet. He wondered how you would be able to take him all the way, the thought of you not being able to handle all of him snuck its way  into his mind and making him groan. 

You would look so cute crying that it was all too big, how it wouldn’t fit. The money he’d pay to see that, he’d bow down and pray to any god to see that image and keep it in his mind forever. 

He leaned up and loomed over you, caging you with his hands on either side of your head. His eyes were dark with lust. It struck a tinge of fear in you. 

He unzipped his pants, pulling his cock out, and spread your legs once more.

Leaning down, he whispered in your ear. "Do you think you're worthy enough for my cock princess?" 

"Huh!?" 

"Awe, what did you think was gonna happen sweetheart? You thought it'd be that easy to make up for your sins—"

"But you said—" you felt tears prick your eyes. You didn't think you were ready for such a big step before marriage. You two weren't even dating!

"But you said—" He mocked in a whiny voice. "I know what I said, and now I'm saying," he pulled you by the cross on your necklace. 

"That I'm gonna fuck you until you’re too fucked out to even think about anything else. I'll turn you into such a pretty whore that you'll feel dirty even thinking about stepping foot in that church. Do you understand slut?"

Whore? Slut? Where was this coming from? He’d been so nice to you. You wouldn’t think he’d call you such degrading names. It was like a switch had been flipped inside him. 

You looked down at his size, causing you to whimper in fear for your small body. 

Kuroo squeezed your cheeks in one hand roughly, making you whine, your eyes watering. “Use your words, you dumb bitch. Do you or do you not understand what I’m saying?” He repeated. 

You nodded. “I-I understa-stand.” You hiccuped, hugging your arms.

You we’re borderline sobbing at this point. This wasn’t the smooth and sweet guy who chatted you up in the convenience store. This wasn’t the sweet christian boy your parents knew. This man was Lucifer himself.

And now, your new lord and saviour. 

You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. You should have never given him the benefit of the doubt. Everyone was right about him. He was just a mean playboy jerk who treated women like shi-

“Awe don’t cry sweetheart. You were doing so good just a minute ago.” His sweet and comforting tone snapped you from your thoughts, and you felt your mind become just a bit less panicked about the whole situation. “Although, you do look awfully pretty when you cry… hm… How bout this; I’ll just make you feel so good to where your instant reaction is to cry. That way I get to see that cute little tear-stained face, and you get to have my expert cock. How does that sound, princess?” 

You nodded, feeling like if you opened your mouth only sobs would come out. 

“What did I say about your words?” He quickly chastised. 

“S-Sorry. Yes sir I-I’d like that…” 

“That's a good girl,” The praise made your chest bubble with joy. You were happy that you could be seen as good in his eyes after all the disgusting things he had just called you. 

“Now here’s the worst part.” 

And that was all the warning you got before he rammed his cock into you. It was the worst pain that you had ever felt. The agonizing stretch, the unfamiliar feeling of being so full, it all was too painful to bear. So you did exactly what he planned and cried. 

He thought of going slow, he really did, but then he wouldn’t be able to see you and those absolutely gorgeous tear streaks. 

“Kuroo, it hurts! It’s too much! Take it out please!” You sobbed out. 

He laughed at you. “Aww poor baby, is it too much?” 

“Good.” He said with another slam of his hips. “You seem—fuck— to forget what we’re—oh god your so fucking tight—doing this for. You were acting like a bitch in church. In the house of your—shit—precious lord.” He said the last point in a mocking tone. “And now you're just paying for your sins to your new god.” He breathed out while continuing to thrust into you at a brutal pace. 

You could only cry harder as he fucked you with such vigor. The stretch was so painful and with every rough thrust he hit your cervix dead on. It was absolute torture. 

So you 're confused as to why the pain slowly subsided and turned to pleasure. Were you… enjoying this? No. There was no way. You didn’t even get a real say in what was happening. So why we’re tiny gasps coming out faster than you could stop them? And why did your hips start to move down to match his thrusts. 

“How do you thi-think your parents would react to your sinful actions right now? Huh, you dumb slut? Bet they’d be so disappointed to see that their precious little girl is nothing but a pretty little sinner huh? Say it! Fuck- Say you’re a sinner, and make sure the neighbors can hear you say it.” 

“B-but your mom..!” 

“You actually believed that?” He laughed. His laughing consisted of grunts and groans, making his laughing time out. “You’re such a fucking dumbass, you know that? I wouldn’t be touching your disgusting ass if my mother was home.” He growled, making more tears stream down your face. 

You whined, covering your face because of the absurd amount of embarrassment you felt. 

“Oh no no no, don’t cover your beautiful face now!” He grunted, taking both of your wrists and holding them above your head. 

With only the bottom half of his cock fucking into you, his thrusts were long and deep, making sure you felt it in your stomach. Your eyes rolled back with each agonizingly painful and deep thrust, your nails ripping off your skins from balling your fists. 

“Oh fuckkkk you're so tight for me.” Kuroo groaned. ”How’s such a slut like you got such a tight pussy?” 

It was obvious that the question was rhetorical as he started to slow his thrusts but put more force behind them, bruising your cervix. All you could let out were little “ah ah ah ahhhhhhs”. 

He slowly stopped, looking down at your trembling body. He let out a breathy groan, shaking his head and biting his lip. 

He let go of one of your wrists and grabbed hold of your hand, bringing it down to your stomach. 

“Princess, do you feel that?” He asked, rubbing your hand over a bump on your stomach. You looked down with him, seeing a slight bump stand with attention below your belly button, making your eyes widen and your breath quicken. 

“Ka-ka-Kuroo! What is that?!” You frantically questioned. 

He looked up at you with the most agrivated, most dumb founded look on his face. “What do you mean, ‘what’s that’?! That’s me, dollface.” He spat, making you jump. “Y-you..?” 

He groaned, slamming into you again, causing you to scream out again. “Ya’ see that moving in your stomach? That’s me, fucking deep into your tight tight pussy.” He growled. You look down again, seeing the bulge in your stomach move with each sharp thrust Kuroo sent through you. 

It made your head feel fuzzy. 

Your body started adjusting to his size, finally. You lifted your legs to cling onto the side of his waist, but they quickly fell spread for him. Your arms also stopped struggling, relaxing under his grip. Your eyes slowly rolled to the back of your head. With each animalistic thrust of his hips you could feel the bed shake. You could barely hear the frame hit the wall over the sound of your high whines and moans and his low groans filling your ear. But you could still faintly hear it, reminding of how rough he was getting. 

“Alright princess now open your mouth and stick your tongue out.” He commanded from over you. 

You opened your mouth and leaned your head back being sure to lol your tongue out.

You felt a cold liquid settle near the tip of your tongue, it was Kuroo’s spit. He’d let it fall like a fountain. Licking his lips when he’d finished. 

“Now swallow like a good girl.”

You closed your mouth and gulped. Letting the spit slide down your tongue. It should have grossed you out, but instead it made your eyes roll back. 

“Aww, look at you, all pretty and fucked out.” he shrugged, thrusting upwards into you, hitting a spot that made you scream out in ecstasy. 

“Kuroo, right there! Fuck, Kuroo yes right there!!” You moaned, arching your back and throwing your head back. 

That was the first time you cursed. Ever. 

“Such a dirty vocabulary you’re discovering! I’m such a good influence on you, your parents would be so proud.” He sarcastically exclaimed in a low and gravelly voice. 

Your parents. You were so caught up in your pleasure that you completely forgot all about them, and the time limit they'd set for you. You were sure you’d past it, it was fairly dark outside. 

You whined, feeling more tears of disappointment roll down the side of your face. “Do-don’t talk about them right now…Ah-I’m gonna-Kuroo fuck p-please!”

He only thrusted harder faster. “Awe baby, do you think you're the one in control? That’s so cute.” He pulled you by your necklace for the second time that night. “You’re atoning for your sins, and I’m using your body for my own pleasure. So you’re gonna sit back, and make sure the only thing that comes out of that pretty. Little. Mouth,” He punctuated each word with a harsh thrust. “Are those pretty. Little. Moans. You got that princess?” 

“Y-yes sir. I’m so sorry sir.” 

“Awe look at my baby! Using her words like a good girl!” He deeply cooed. 

You bit your lip, holding back the moan you desperately wanted to let out, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of your voice. He noticed and started to pound faster. You couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“Fuck! Kuroo! Ple-ase! Fuck you’re so good. Sosososo good. Pleeeeease!” 

“Listen to you! You sound downright pathetic!” He laughed at you. It felt humiliating, but you felt yourself getting wetter from the whole situation. The intensity, the humiliation, Kuroo’s groans, they all were filling up your senses, and you could feel yourself nearing your climax. 

“Look at you, you’re getting tighter. How much of a- fuuuuck how is it possible that your tighter- slut are you? You're really getting off to me calling you a slut? You like that? Huh? Go on, answer me whore.”  

“Yes! Yes Kuroo! I’m your whore! Fuuuuuckkkk!” Your moans were high and breathy. 

He pulled you by your necklace one again and snatched it clean off of you. 

You gasped, snapping out of your lustful trance. “Kuroo!!! My dad gave me that!!” You cried. 

“I don’t give a fuck, I’m your god now, you don’t need a stupid cross, I’ll let everyone know you’re mine.” He huffed, dangling it in front of you, before throwing it out his window. 

The window. The window! 

 “K-Kuroo, how long has that be-been open?” You asked. 

He groaned, slowing down his thrust. “The window? It’s been open since this morning.” He shrugged, fucking into you sloppier and sloppier. 

You felt embarrassed, heat rushing over your being as you held onto Kuroo to hide your face. “O-oh…” you moaned, scrunching your eyebrows together in embarrassment. 

“What’s wrong baby? Are you embarrassed? Are you embarrassed that my whole neighborhood can hear how bitchy, and pathetic you sound? Fuck- Good, fucking cry about it like the stupid bitch you are.” 

Each insult brought you closer to that edge. You forgot all about your previous embarrassment and basked in the bliss of Kuroo’s rough thrusts. 

“Holy shit- Did you get tighter from me reminding you of how much of a—shiiiiiitttt—of a fucking slut you are?” His voice sounded so breathy. You could feel him twitching inside of you. 

And then the dam broke. You could feel your orgasm sparking through you like electricity. 

“Kuroo! Kuroo! Im cumm- Im cumming! Oh Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck! You're so good!”

He revelled in the profanities spilling from your mouth, knowing that before this you probably would have never thought about saying such vile things. 

“Oh thats right baby who’s making you cum on his cock like a dumb bitch in heat? Who’s your god? C’mon, say it, princess.” 

“You! Shit! You're my god! Oh please- It’s too much! It's- It’s too much!” 

He laughed at you. “How many fucking—Fuck baby you feel so good—How many times do I have to tell you this isn’t- Shit- This isn’t for you.” The last part came out as a dark growl. 

“Y-Yes sir! I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah that's a good girl, oh you're such a good slut for me. Shutting up and just taking it. Yeahhh that's a good fucking whore. You want your god to cum inside you? Breed you and fill you up so nice? That what you want princess?” 

Your eyes widened. Nononono he couldn’t! He had to pull out! 

“N-No...Please...” Your voice sounded so weak and tiny. 

“Oh no baby, that was rhetorical. You're gonna sit back and let me breed this little pussy like a good girl who stays in her place, because surely- fuck- you remember your place and wouldn’t talk back, now would you?”

You knew it was useless to deny him. You don’t even know why you tried. 

After a few more thrust there was a particularly hard one. The force of fit knocked you back a bit, but he pulled you back by your thighs so he would stay fully buried inside of you. 

Suddenly you felt nothing but warmth filling you. He was cumming inside you. You could feel him shooting spurt after spurt. You had never felt so full, his thick cock splitting you accompanied by his come pushed you to another orgasm. Your legs shot up and you let out a loud whiny moan. 

“Oh god! Oh fuck! You feel so good filling me up Kuroo- Fuck!” 

“Aww you came again from me cumming in you? What happened to you not wanting it?” He teased. You couldn’t respond, you still hadn’t come down from your high. 

_________

You woke up in an unfamiliar location, dark red walls and black sheets were unlike your pastel blue walls and baby pink sheets. You panicked, until memories of your earlier actions came back to you. You weren't completely calm though, you were sure you definitely passed your curfew and Kuroo was nowhere to be found. 

“Kuroo! I need to get home like— now!” 

He entered the room and laughed. “Oh calm down you big baby, I called your folks and said you’d passed out cause you were so tired. Took some convincing, but they’re fine with you spending the night here.”

You sighed, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. “Oh, thank god.” 

“Speaking of,” He came closer to you. “You down for round two?” 

You felt warmth flood your face and threw a pillow at him. “You pervert!” 

“How am I the pervert when you're the one naked in my bed?” 

He was right, you did feel a cold breeze brush against your cold body as you pulled the covers up. 

“Well then where are my clothes?” 

He winced, itching the back of his neck. “Ya’ see...your skirt is still ripped, but I put your underwear and skirt in the wash. You could wear something of mine though!"

[mystical-evergreen]

Following this post by @hodgekiss, I played around with some filters this morning. :D I figured the convent/orphanage would be able to afford lavish portraits, and it also made since to have a generation painting. Featured above is the young, at the time sister, Mother Maria-Lucia Fiel, the young orphan (later sister) Bianca Fiel, and Mother Superior Ana-Catalina Fiel. My religious ladies who follow Athos (Vilena’s patron god) take on the surname of Fiel. Foundlings also take on Fiel until they are old enough to choose a new name for themselves. Obviously this is stolen borrowed from @mortia

Mother Ana-Catalina was a young gentry woman when she entered the convent. There were more sisters then, but as the years wore on and war and plague dragged down the numbers the convent became small. A.C. was a frugal fortune sim, and often found herself in charge of the convent finances. It was through her dedicated work throughout the years that the orphanage of Athos is able to afford it’s lavish design. She was in her forties when she met Maria-Lucia and took the young sister under her wing. The two formed a close bond, even after A.C. took over as Mother Superior. She passed away peacefully, leaving behind a grand legacy for her successor, Sister Maria-Lucia, to fill.

Maria-Lucia was born into a large tavern-owning yeoman family. She was one of the elder children, so she became a bar maid at a young age. Her love for the drink, although a begrudgingly accepted vice in the church, persists still to her old age. She joined the church as a devote follower. During her time as a young sister, the convent began taking in orphans and foundling children (both as to provide for their well being and boost numbers.) M.L. found herself close with the young Bianca, with whom she personally tutored and guided. 

Today the current convent is even smaller than it was under Mother Ana-Catalina. Mother Maria-Lucia has high hopes however, with an influx of orphans from Vilena the convent is bound to grow. Afterall, Sister Bianca was an orphan herself before she entered the sisterhood.

If you noticed hair signifying hierarchy you would be correct. Young teens, children, and toddlers wear their hair down and loose, on occasion in loose braids. Adults braid their hair, to signify them growing up and beginning to work. Elders tie their hair up, a signal of respect for their years of service. This mostly applies to women, I’m not sure what I’d want to do for a monastery. I’m thinking the monastery might follow Ianthe (Janaar’s goddess, a very nature based sim.) I should probably also mention the convent ladies have sworn off romance and children for themselves, of course that doesn’t stop everyone ;).

[going-dead]

Lightning Scars and Listening Ears

Phic phight prompt by @datawyrms : Danny Phantom's jumpsuit is hiding a secret he'd rather not reveal to anyone. (feel free to be metaphorical if you want.) l

Team Human: @currentlylurking​

Most citizens of Amity Park often forgot that Phantom wasn’t human. Sure he would fly through the skies, turn invisible, and shoot ectoplasm at the ghosts who would attack the city on a daily basis, but the way he acted when not saving the city always seemed so alive. That’s where the problem lied though. The ghost kid wasn’t alive, a fact that Amity Park never actually thought much about.

Phantom was playing around with some kids in the park when it all happened. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to see the boy play with the younger citizens of the city, under their parents supervision most of the time. Seeing him give them piggyback rides and playing tag was actually a common sight when there were no ghosts to fight. Phantom had six different kids hanging off of his arms and legs, apparently trying to tackle him and get him to fall down. The group of parents laughed at the sight as the teenage hero fell to the ground admitting his defeat in a dramatic flourish. “Ahh you got me! Foul villains, you will regret this!” He laughed as he lunged at the closest kid and launched a tickle attack. Childish squeels rang out as the uncaptured children ran trying to avoid being tickled. The little girl in his arms was finally released from her attacker when she turned on Phantom and started to tickle him back. His laughter attracted the other kids who scattered and they joined the counter attack.

“I yield I yield!” He flailed his arms as a dozen little hands tickled any spot they could reach. The kids slowly let up their assault leaving the teen gasping for breath.

One of the children, the girl who started the attack on Phantom, pulled on his arm. “Mr. Phantom? What’s that did you get a owie?” She asked pointing to his neck where part of his jumpsuit wrinkled down revealing a few red raised streaks maring his skin.

Phantom froze eyes jumping over to the adults just a few feet over who had stopped their conversation to try to see what the young girl was asking about. He quickly pulled the collar of his suit back into place. He gave the girl and the other kids surrounding him a pained smile. “Yeah I did get an owie. Don’t worry though I’m fine, doesn’t even hurt anymore.” Suddenly blue frost escaped his lips, the adults sitting nearby never saw him more relieved to have a ghost show up than in that moment. He gave quick goodbyes to the kids before shooting off to find the day's threat to the city.

All the adults gathered waved over their respective kids. While they trusted Phantom to get rid of the threat it was always smart to stay inside during a ghost attack. A loud boom sounded in the direction where Phantom flew off, shaking the ground. They all gave each other uncertain looks. “My house is closest we can take shelter there.” One of the men said leading everyone away.

After a block of running the group was almost to shelter when the ghost fight moved over their heads. The adults grabbed onto the children doing their best to shield them from the flying debris. They held the kids against their chests as they watched the sky in horror. They didn’t recognize the attacking ghost, but it was certainly doing a number on Phantom. The rest of the battle lasted at most a minute when Phantom managed to suck up the ghost into his thermos before he seemed to wobble in the sky and falling to the ground creating a small crater where he landed.

The man who was leading the group passed off the kid he was holding to the man next to him. “David what are you-?”

“Brian just hold her.” He ran over to the fallen teen and picked him up in a fireman's carry and rushed the rest of the way to his house.

Once he arrived he kicked open the door and placed the teen onto the couch in his living room. He looked down trying to assess the situation. Phantom’s jumpsuit was torn in numerous places exposing spots of his arms, neck, and chest that had splatterings of green ectoplasm across the exposed flesh. He started taking the rest of the jumpsuit off of the teen wanting to make sure there were no hidden injuries underneath. Behind him he could hear his husband and the other parents come through the door. “Get me a wet rag and some warm water!” He yelled behind him.

Once he was handed the items he started working on cleaning up the cuts and wiping off the ectoplasm. He silently thanked any higher being out there that he took a first aid class a few years back. The wounds actually seemed less severe than what David initially thought, that or the kid had some seriously advanced healing. One of the parents led the kids upstairs while the rest of them crowded around David and Phantom.

Once Phantom was as patched up as he could be David finally sat back and actually took a full look at the boy. His breath caught in his throat as he examined the body infront of him. In the end all he could get out was.“Oh my god. He’s- he’s dead.”

“What the hell do you mean? Of course he’s not, I can clearly see him breathing right now.” One of the parents protested.

David shook his head. “No.” He went to run his hands down his face before spotting the blood- no the ectoplasm covering them and settled for grabbing onto his husband for support. “No, I mean he’s a ghost.”

“Well yeah he’s a ghost it’s not like that’s news now is it?” Brian said running his hand up and down his husband's back.

“You guys don’t get it.” David pulled back. “Think! Look!” He ran his hand through his hair, staining it green. “Look at him.” He pointed at the teen’s unconscious body. There were lightning shaped scars running all over the boy’s body, from the base of his neck trailing all the way down to his ankles. Those weren’t the only scars marring his body though, small scars were scattered all over his body, there was a rather large one on his abdomen in the same spot where he was hit the other week fighting off a ghost who was attacking the high school. The gathered adults looked back at Phantom’s face. As he slept he almost looked like a normal teenager, there were small bags under his eyes, his closed eyes hid the toxic green color, and the glow surrounding him was almost nonexistent.

Three things seemed to dawn on the parents all at once.

1: Phantom at some point had died

2: He died young, at most he was just out of middle school when it happened.

3: From the looks of it he didn’t die in his sleep but painfully. They all silently hoped that at least it wasn’t drawn out.

As they all looked at each other they couldn’t help but think of their own children who were just upstairs. Did Phantom have a family? Did his parents miss their little boy? Do they know that Phantom was their son? Even worse, the boy had a jumpsuit on when he died, was his parents the cause of his premature death?

Of course if Phantom was conscious, didn’t have to worry about the whole identity thing, and could read their minds the boy would quickly put their minds to rest responding; yes, no he sees them daily, god no, and sorta it really was more of a case of teenage stupidity than his parents fault though.

Two of those issues though were quickly resolved as two white rings shocked the group out of their grief for a boy they hardly knew. The rings traveled across the boy’s body replacing bare skin with street clothes and white hair with black. Everyone looked at Phantom(?) confused, the boy in front of them was very unghost-like and the scratch on his face that was previously bleeding green now had a red where the scab was forming.

“What the fu- wait isn’t that the Fenton kid, Danny I think?” David asked looking back at the other parents who were in the same amount of shock that he was. Actually he was positive it was him, his older sister Jazz used to babysit their daughter and he would sometimes come along. If someone was going to respond they were cut off as the boy in front of them started to stir and open his eyes. He sat up almost falling off the couch in his panic, thankfully David was quick enough to catch him. “Woah there Danny, be careful you took a pretty bad beating out there. Hell I’m surprised you’re already awake to be honest kid.”

Danny gave him a thankful smile as he steadied himself. He froze once he caught a glimpse of his hair, his eyes shot down to his clothes. He looked back up and noticed the group of adults in front of him. “Now before you jump to any conclusions there’s a very reasonable explanation for this, or there will be just give me a few minutes.” “Wait so does this mean you’re not dead?” Brian asked.

“Brian you can’t just ask that! What if it’s a sensitive subject?” David scolded his husband then looked over at Danny. “Sorry about him.”

Danny looked over to the men who for some reason had hope in their eyes. “What? It’s fine. I mean I guess no- well yes- no- sorta- it’s complicated.”

As Danny looked at the numerous questioning eyes he sighed. It’s not like he could convince them that it was a trick of the light or something. And he did owe them since they patched him up better than he would have been able to at home in his bedroom. But before he could start he turned to David. “I’ll tell you guys everything but first um… is that my ectoplasm in your hair and on your hands? Because if so you probably should wash that off, prolonged exposure isn’t harmful per say but you could start to glow or something if you don’t wash it off soon.”

David looked down to his hands, apparently just now remembering he was still covered in the boy’s ectoplasm and rushed to the bathroom to wash it off. He’d worry about why the sight of his own blood- ectoplasm didn’t phase Danny at all later.

Once David returned, now free of ectoplasm, Danny sat down and started from the beginning. At one point in the story he must have started to cry because he was handed a tissue box, which he accepted with a thanks. By the end he wasn’t the only one with tears in his eyes, one of the adults had to go into the kitchen to compose themselves. Danny didn’t really understand why though, sure he sort of half died, but he didn’t see why it would affect any of them. “Hey! It’s fine, I’m fine it’s not a big deal! I mean it’s not like it only happened to me. Vlad went through it too like 20 years ago.” Danny seized up after he said that. “Don’t tell him you know about him though! Me not telling anyone about him is the only reason he’s not trying to fully kill me when we fight. That and he has a weird obsession with my mom and me.”

David paused at that. “So you’re telling us that not only did you go through a highly traumatic situation at a young age, but the only adult that even knows about it has tried to kill you multiple times?”

“I mean I guess but Jazz, my sister, knows about it too and she’s older than me and my friends.”

“Danny she’s also still a kid, an older one sure, but she is not an adult. Even if you didn’t go to your parents, was there no one else you could have talked to about it with? A therapist maybe?” David asked.

Danny laughed. “Ah no, Jazz tried having me go to the school therapist but she turned out to be a ghost who wanted to try to cause as much pain as possible. She even almost killed Jazz in front of the whole school.”

“Dear god.” David sighed. “All right, we will all keep your secret on one condition.”  Danny cringed and looked down at his lap, of course there was a catch. He just hoped it wasn’t anything too bad like letting them run a bunch of experiments on him whenever they wanted to. His ghost injuries were bad enough to hide from others, he didn’t need to have to explain away needle marks or something. “You’ll see Brian once a week for therapy sessions. He’s a licensed psychiatrist.”

“Wait what?” Danny looked up confused.

“Oh don’t worry I won’t charge you of course since we are forcing you to do this, and obviously you can choose the day of the week. I usually don't work fridays or the weekends but if those are the only days that work I’m sure we can rearrange some of our family time to make room for you.” Brian smiled. “Now it’s getting pretty late isn’t it? I’m sure it’s about time everyone here starts to head home now hmm? Of course if you aren’t feeling well enough Danny I can call your parent’s up and just let them know you’ll be staying here. I’ll just tell them you were injured in a ghost fight, not exactly lying now is it?”

“Um no I’m fine enough to walk home thank you though.” Danny said. Everyone started saying their goodbyes and calling the children down to get them ready to leave. Danny was the last one left, he was almost out the door when he was stopped by David handing him a piece of paper.

“Here are our numbers, I also wrote down where Brian’s office is, you can set up your appointment over text. As well as our address, you can stop by or call us for any reason Danny and I mean it okay, any.”

Danny looked down at the paper and pocketed it with a nod. As he left he felt almost lighter for some reason. Maybe having adults who knew and didn’t want to kill him but actually wanted to help him wasn’t so bad after all.