#much prescribed me on sight so i didn't have to get into it

[thelonelynindroid]

I would like to thank Brad Bakshi for inadvertently making me get medicated after 18 years of mental illness

[autumnywinter]

Im crazy for this blog! Do you mind writing for yandere Baizhu or some hcs? Maybe a modern au?

Baizhu's more just a clinician than a pharmacist here because I'm obsessed with yandere doctors. It's been a while since I wrote for him, I'm not very confident in this but I hope it's still good ^^

Yandere!Baizhu x Reader

TW: Heavily implied noncon somnophilia, drugging, doctor/patient, gaslighting

You had been seeing and hearing things. It started with little noises outside of your window at night, rustling and shuffling. It scared you, but not enough to do anything about it. Next thing you knew, you swore you were seeing white flashes through your window at odd hours of the night. You'd look out the window, and there'd be not a thing in sight except for the stillness of the night.

It got worse.

Items of your possession began to go missing, mostly clothing, oftentimes dirty. You told yourself it was probably due to your own absent-mindedness, but you knew deep down that something was wrong.

The thing that set you off was when you'd wake up sore and hurting. There'd be scratch marks on your arms and back, and bruises you swore were hickeys on your shoulders and neck. They were in places you couldn't have reached yourself. Your mind had jumped to the worst case scenario, and you were terrified.

Yet your trusted doctor brushed it all off, saying you were getting hallucinations and stressing yourself out far too much. He claimed what you were so sure were hickeys, were actually just bruises. He said you were likely a sleep walker due to your increased stress, hence it made sense that you'd unintentionally hurt yourself while asleep. You'd bought into his reasoning, because he'd always been so trustworthy and reliable.

He gave you medication to help you, but you couldn't help but feel like what he prescribed made it worse. You found yourself more groggy than usual, and often having nightmares. You felt physically sick most days.

But Doctor Baizhu was so trustworthy, you felt like it was the right choice.

You noticed how his fingers would linger longer than they should whenever he took your pulse. You noticed how his eyes would dilate when staring at you for just a bit too long. You noticed how his touch felt wrong, like there was something else behind it. But you were just being paranoid, just as Baizhu said.

"Feeling sick again?" Baizhu's cold hand pressed against your forehead. The touch sent a shiver coursing through your body, the sharp contrast in temperature setting your nerves on edge.

"Yeah," you managed. Your voice was barely a whisper.

"That's unfortunate," Baizhu sighed. He clicked his tongue a few times in thought. "Well, if you continue taking this medicine, you should start feeling better soon. Although I'm starting to worry the side-effects are a pain. I have something else to try, so if you would just give me a moment..."

Baizhu walked off to the other end of the room, leaving you alone. You swallowed hard, wincing slightly at the uncomfortable feeling. Your throat was always dry lately, and you found yourself struggling to swallow, let alone eat. You wished you could sleep, but the nightmares always left you a groggy mess. You could never remember them, only that they were terrifying.

"Ah, here we are," Baizhu smiled, snapping you from your thoughts. He had a bottle of pills, shaking out one singular white one. "It'll dissolve in your mouth. It's to help ease your nausea. I know you haven't been keeping anything down well lately. Hopefully this should help."

You extended a hand, to which he placed it in your palm. Were doctors even allowed to give out pills directly? You weren't sure, but shrugged it off. You popped it into your mouth, and Baizhu was right. It quickly dissolved, and you were surprised that it didn't have a funny taste. You were expecting something bitter or awful, but there was nothing.

"It'll take some time to kick in," Baizhu assured you. "I'd like it if you stayed here until it does. It might make you a little dizzy."

"Sure," you nodded. You had no reason to distrust Baizhu, despite every fibre of your being telling you something was wrong.

The medicine kicked in quickly. Within ten minutes, you were feeling a bit weird, like you were floating. Your head was lighter. Baizhu noticed you swaying and pushed you gently onto the examination table.

"Dizzy?" he asked.

"Uh huh," you replied dumbly.

"Stay lying down," he instructed. Your vision was spinning and your head was empty, so empty you could hardly process the fact he was digging into your belongings and then leaving the room. You wanted to ask him where he was going, but couldn't find the energy. Instead, you let yourself lay there, staring at the ceiling as it spun round and round.

Baizhu came back, rolling in a wheelchair. He lifted you up with a quiet groan, and set you gently into the seat, draping a blanket over you. It was scratchy and thin.

"We're going for a walk," Baizhu said. He wheeled you out, and as loopy as you were, a spike of hazy panic hit you when you saw him leading you to a car in the parking lot that wasn't yours. You tried to protest, but Baizhu cooed, petting your hair and whispering sweet nothings.

"Shhh, it'll be okay. Everything is fine. We're going home."

Baizhu opened the passenger side door, pushing the chair close. He lifted you out with a low grunt. You felt weightless in his arms, like a feather. He buckled you in, and his minty breath ghosted across your face.

"I love you," he murmured.

You passed out before his lips could even touch yours.

[claudemblems]

"Am I Annoying?" | Tighnari

Tighnari Genshin Impact <3

"Now where would you get such a preposterous idea?"

Tighnari set aside the bowl of herbs he'd been grinding down for some medicinal tea, his attention now focused on your gloomy countenance. You didn't have to meet his gaze to know he was sending you a stern yet caring look.

"Did someone put this sort of thought into your head? If so, they are ridiculous to assume that I'd feel such a way towards you. However, if this is a thought born out of your own worries, pay it no mind. You know how I feel about you." At this, Tighnari's eyes softened, a small smile on his lips. "Don't start doubting me now."

"I don't mean to doubt you..." You sighed, hands fiddling with the edge of your shirt. "I just doubt myself is all. Every day I look at myself and think, 'How on earth have you managed to get a man like Tighnari? You have no accomplishments, no beauty, and no good characteristics to speak of. How could anyone possibly love you without it being due to pity?'" You clenched your hands into fists, fighting back the tears forming in your eyes. "I just can't see myself the way everyone else sees me. I worry so much about becoming a nuisance to someone. I don't want them to keep their negative feelings to themselves and then, when they finally grow tired of me, eventually leave..."

Tighnari rose from his seat and approached the cot you'd been sitting on. You felt the bed dip beneath you and the faint brush of fingers on top of your own.

"[Name]." Tighnari said gently. "Look at me."

You let his hand cup your cheek and gently turn your face towards him.

"You are anything but a burden to me. If I didn't love you, would I have asked you to date me? Would I have spent so many late nights thinking of you, every inch of me buzzing with excitement at the thought of seeing you the next morning? I don't let just anyone consume both my heart and mind, you know."

You let out a small laugh, Tighnari's smile growing at the visible improvement of your mood. "Seriously, if I wasn't so well-versed in medicine, I would have thought I was slowly falling into actual insanity. How on earth could it be normal for my heart to race so erratically just at the sight of you?"

"Are you saying I made you nervous?"

"A little, but it was also just because I found you very pretty. And still do, of course."

He spoke as if your beauty was the most obvious fact in the world. It made your face flush red. Though Tighnari's bluntness could be a lot at times, in moments like these, you were grateful for his honest nature. When he complimented or praised you, you knew he meant it. And that's what made his words even more special to you.

"I love you dearly, [Name]. Don't ever second-guess that. However, if you're still not convinced, I will have to prescribe you some medicine to make these negative symptoms go away."

You raised an eyebrow, puzzled but intrigued. "Medicine?"

"Mhmm, but don't worry. This is the good kind."

Your heart skipped a beat as Tighnari briefly pressed his lips to yours. When he pulled away, he smiled as he observed your shocked, flustered state.

"You will need to receive at least three kisses a day for the rest of the week. No skipping any days, either. If you want to get rid of those pesky doubts, you need to be good and take the medicine your caring boyfriend has prescribed to you."

You couldn't help but break into a fit of laughter, clutching at your sides that would no doubt start aching later. Tighnari let out a chuckle of his own as he wrapped his arms around you, leaning his head on yours. "You're so silly, Tighnari."

"But that's why you love me, isn't it? Just like why I love you."

Taking his hand in yours, you squeezed it gently, your lips curving upwards when he squeezed back. "Yes. You're right. I do love you, so much."

You spent the rest of the day close by Tighnari's side and taking your medicine as instructed, but you may have stolen a few kisses more than the doctor's recommended dose ;)

[little-bloodied-angel]

This morning I woke up and my right leg was screaming. The pain was so intense and brutal it was what woke me; I had to sink my teeth into my pillow and scream, too. Every cell from hip to knee is (yes, still) burning, liquid acid going through my veins; and the calf is strained and cramped and protesting the extra work as hard as it can.

I still had to use the bathroom; when I tried to stand up it buckled, like a lightning bolt went through it, and I went to the floor. Even just rotating in bed to get out was agonizing on my hip. My foot was numb, full of pins and needles for lack of proper circulation.

I limped there, dragging my leg behind, supporting my weight on the wall and gritting my teeth. The process of sitting down and standing up almost made me black out.

Over the sink, I looked at myself in the mirror and willed myself not to cry. When I came back into my room I caught sight of my medications on my bedside table, the myriad of pills I'll be taking for as long as I live. The Tramadol on top of them was mocking me, and I did cry then.

I remember everything my body could do. I remember flying. I remember the fall, too, the agonized animal screams that seemed to come from outside my body, the brutal audible SNAP of muscle and tendon, the bone against the hardwood, the hushed whisper-shouts of "get help -she can't move -she can't walk -god, her leg!"

The doctor's office and his placid smile as he told me I was "lucky" because my ACL didn't require surgery at the same time he delivered my death sentence, or what may as well been.

"A career in ballet is no longer an option for you".

I know he didn't understand how people who dance with the goals I did live and die for that dancing. He thought I was young and I'd find something else to do. I was young and a part of me died in that accident and I had to bury it.

I remember a different doctor, a different office, her worried face scanning my psychiatric history like she thought I'd kill myself right in front of her because of the diagnosis as she told me what I already knew.

"You have fibromyalgia. I'll prescribe medication to manage it, you have to be careful with it. But..."

But it'll never get better. You'll always hurt. It'll get worse. I already knew that. I just wanted someone to sign on it, because it turns out that when doctors perceive you as female, complaints of chronic pain tend to fall by the wayside, particularly if you have a history of mental illness. She took me seriously. She warned me about my leg, about what a flareup would do somewhere I'm already hurting all the time, and I kept myself from barking at her I fucking know, that's part of what it's been like for almost a decade because at least she believed me.

I mourned my body again, all the same.

I lay in bed gripping my thigh, trying to will the spasms down, trying to decide between yelling and sobbing, trying to figure out why: had I slept on it wrong? Was it the weather? It had hurt after walking too much on Monday, but not as much as I expected; a delayed reaction? It didn't matter, in the end; it wasn't going to take the pain away.

I thought of Izzy, as I tore my lips apart with my teeth to feel something that wasn't my damn leg. I thought of how real he felt, the tears and the screaming, the gritted teeth, the suicidal loss of identity. The loneliness. I thought of his stubbornness, his progress. How much both of those realities meant. How they thrashed it all, in one moment, and all but told us, the ones that feel like him, "when the desire to die comes back just do it. You've outlived what you were, so who you are has *had enough*", and my mouth tasted like blood for more than one reason.

He meant so much. He could have meant so much more. And we have to wipe the spit of this insult from our faces and carry on and accept it was part of a happy ending.

He might've forgiven it all; he was a character and you made him. I don't. I won't. I'm still here, with my pain and anger, and I refuse to die so the people who want me gone can live in peace. And I refuse to be quiet and accept that for a happy ending I should fade away.

If you can't understand this anger, at least don't insult me and others like me by telling us there's no reason for it.

I'm hazy with pain and aware that I'm rambling. But whatever I don't bleed in ink will poison me.

[shelbystales]

Best Aid - Part Seven

Modern Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Previous parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

Summary: you are a young doctor in Birmingham. After a crazy incident, Thomas Shelby shows up at your hospital. You don’t know much about the man everyone seems to fear, but you definitely will.

Warning: swearing, mention of torture and panick attack

A/N:  Comment and interact, tell me what you think! it means a looot.

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"Hey, you good?" Jeremy asked, easing into the break room for hospital staff.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" you replied, not looking up from the trauma textbook you were reading.

He pulled up a chair and sat down beside you. "You think it was him?" he asked in a hushed tone, as if it were some kind of top-secret stuff.

"Can we not go there, please?" you requested, turning the page of your book.

"Come on, seriously?" He paused, waiting for a response, but you stayed tight-lipped. "Y/n, seriously, what's going on? You usually spill the beans about everything, even your weirdest quirks. Even when you were peeing green for fucks sake. Youre making me worry here. Did he do something to you? Hurt you?" he asked, his voice all business, a tone he rarely used with you.

"No," you shook your head, "he didn't do anything to me," you replied calmly and took a deep breath. "Not directly."

"What does that mean?" He frowned.

You sighed deeply and told him everything about the apartment, the bomb. It felt good to get this off your chest. As you spoke, it was as though weights were being lifted off your shoulders one by one.

When you finished, Jeremy gave you a tight hug, and before you knew it, you were tearing up. These last few days, living in fear, with so much anxiety, had been consuming you. Being able to share and be comforted by someone was all you needed.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked. "Are you going to stay at his aunt's hotel for how long?"

"I don't know," you shrugged, moving away from the hug and wiping your tears.

"You can come to my place," he offered.

"Are you crazy? I'm not putting you and your fiancé at risk," you said.

"Okay, but if you need anything, I'm here," he said

"Thank you, Jer. I needed this," you smiled as Jeremy left, allowing you to focus on your studies.

Later, you decided to check on the man Thomas had brought to the hospital. As you entered the room, your heart skipped a beat. The patient's face was heavily bruised and battered, his body showing signs of severe torture. It was a grim sight, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of sympathy for the man, imagining the horrors he might have endured.

You approached him and began your examination, checking his vitals, the medications he was prescribed, and the results of his blood tests. Your eyes fell on the schedule at your tablet, he was set for surgery tomorrow, likely to fix his jaw.

While you were listening to his lungs with a stethoscope, you sensed a presence at the door. Looking up, you saw Thomas, and a lump formed in your throat.

Your eyes locked with his, and for a moment, everything else faded away. You couldn't help but confront him, your tone laced with sarcasm. "Came to finish the job?" you mocked, removing the stethoscope from your ears.

He remained silent, his gaze fixed on you, his jaw clenched tightly. His presence, once so comforting, now made you sick. Ignoring him, you resumed your examination of the patient's lungs, doing your best to focus on the task at hand.

As you continued your examination, the tension in the room was palpable. Thomas walked to the small sofa in the room, still watching you in silence. It was as though an invisible wall had erected itself between you, separating the two of you in a space filled with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

You couldn't ignore his presence, nor the turmoil it stirred within you. A mixture of anger, fear, and a hint of lingering attraction made your heart race.

He had crossed a line by coming here, by defying your wishes to stay away. And yet, part of you was somehow relieved that he was standing there. 

“I’m finished. I need you to leave” Thomas frowned and raised an eyebrow, refusing to budge. "You think I'm going to leave you alone with him? Are you delusional?"

He chuckled and shook his head. “And what do you think I’ll do if you leave?” he challenged, looking at the injured man on the bed.

“Do you really want me to say it?” you asked, but he ignored you. After a few moments, you couldn't bear the silence any longer. "So, is this some kind of sick game to you?" you asked, your voice quivering with a blend of frustration and vulnerability.

Thomas's gaze burned onto you, an intensity you'd never seen before. "What kind of man do you think I am?" he retorted, the heat in his eyes making you shiver.

“The kind of man that could have done this” you pointed at your patient and he chuckled, rolling his eyes at you.

You struggled to find your voice, your own fear and doubt surfacing. "Did you?" you managed to ask, your words drawn out as though pulled from the depths of your throat.

"What?" he replied with a hint of mockery in his tone, challenging you. 

"Torture him?" you whispered, your head nodding involuntarily. Your hands shook, and your entire body quivered with the intensity of the situation.

Thomas's gaze remained locked onto yours, his blue eyes unwavering as they bore into your soul. "No," he asserted, his voice firm 

Your uncertainty remained, and you found it difficult to trust his words. "Why do I not believe you?" you whispered, your voice barely audible

“if I wanted him dead, I wouldn't have brought him here, eh?” he stated. His response was cold, a frigid wall that seemed to surround him. "But you believe in whatever you want,"he continued, making no attempt to soften his words “can you just walk out? pretend you didn’t see me".

"What? Why would I do that? What are you doing here, Thomas?" you inquired, your eyes narrowing as you regarded him.

He met your gaze, his expression unyielding. "I came to visit," he replied curtly. Your skepticism grew as you couldn't help but wonder what had truly brought him here, you just watched him. Then, he made a request that caught you off guard. "Can you check him out?"

Your initial reaction was a resolute refusal. "There's no way he's leaving this hospital," you retorted, your voice firm.

Thomas, however, didn't seem fazed by your refusal. He gazed at you with a stark intensity and asked a question that sent a chill down your spine. "Will he die if he does?"

"Yes!" you nearly yelled in response, your voice laced with frustration and indignation

Thomas's resolve didn't waver. He spoke with a calm determination that sent shivers down your spine. "Look, I need to check him out. He can’t stay here. He needs a safer location."

You couldn't hide the frustration in your voice as you firmly stated, "He can't leave! he has a severe infection and a surgery tomorrow"

“If he stays, he’ll die” he said, his voice firm “do you want that?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course not! But, If he leaves he dies” you said, feeling your heart race in a weird rhythm “Why do you do this to me?” you whispered

“I’m doing nothing” he shook his head and shrugged “you are here because you want to be. You can leave and have nothing to do with this, y/n”

“This man is my responsibility, Thomas” you said, your voice shaky as your breathing got harder “... he can’t be discharged” 

Thomas's expression remained resolute, and his tone didn't waver. "Then what's the alternative?"

The tension in the room reached its breaking point, and you couldn't contain your frustration any longer. The pressure and uncertainty of the situation pushed you to the brink, and you snapped, your voice rising with exasperation. "How the fuck am I supposed to know?!!" you demanded, your words coming out in a rush, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on your shoulders. 

You tried to take a deep breath to calm, but somehow you felt like there was no air around you.

Your heart raced, pounding in your chest like a drumbeat, and you could hear the blood rushing in your ears. 

Your hands trembled uncontrollably, and you clutched at your chest as if to quell the suffocating pressure that had settled there.

Your thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind, and you struggled to hold onto a semblance of control.

In the midst of the chaos, you desperately attempted to take a deep breath, but the air around you felt thin and elusive, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

Panic had taken hold, and you were caught in its relentless grip, unable to break free.

Your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the edges of the room and making everything seem distant and surreal. 

The room, once filled with tense conversation, had now transformed into a suffocating void. You longed for a way out of this paralyzing panic that had seized you.

It was as though the walls were closing in, and the world had grown smaller, more claustrophobic.

With trembling fingers, you reached out for anything to ground you, clutching onto the edge of your patient’s bed. But the room continued to spin, and your legs felt unsteady beneath you

In the midst of your overwhelming panic, you suddenly felt a hand on your arm. It was a firm yet gentle touch. You looked up and Thomas' face slowly formed in front of you. 

"Y/N," he said, his voice steady and reassuring. "Focus on your breathing, ey. In and out. You're going to be okay. You're going to ok"

His words cut through the chaos that had enveloped you, and you struggled to follow his guidance. He caressed your arms as he insctructed you.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. 

It felt like an eternity, but gradually, your breathing began to steady, and the world around you started to regain its shape.

Thomas continued to speak to you in hushed tones. His presence, once a source of tension, had now become a lifeline in your moment of need. He remained there, a calming presence, until your panic attack began to subside, and you could once again see the room clearly.

As the storm of panic receded, you felt a mix of emotions… embarrassment, relief, and a strange gratitude toward Thomas. You hadn't expected him to come to your aid, but in that moment, he had shown a side of himself you hadn't seen before.

After your breathing had steadied and the panic had subsided, Thomas remained by your side, his gaze filled with concern. He asked in a soft, genuinely worried tone, "Are you okay?"

You looked into his eyes, still filled with uncertainty and turmoil. You didn't have a straightforward answer. "I... I don't know," you admitted, your voice trembling.

Thomas regarded you with a mixture of concern and guilt. He had brought this unsettling chaos into your life, and it was evident in the way you now struggled to find your footing.

"I'm sorry," he confessed, his voice heavy with remorse.

You furrowed your brows and asked, "Are you?"

Thomas locked eyes with you, and for an instant, you glimpsed a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze. "Yes," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "I didn't intend for any of this to happen to you." He gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, caressing your cheek. But as if awakening from a dream, he abruptly withdrew a step, putting distance between you.

You watched as he retreated. Instantly missing his touch. The tension in the room was palpable, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. There were questions about you two that hung in the air, unspoken but heavy with meaning. You wanted him to stay away. This was your wish. right? 

Finally, Thomas broke the silence, his voice softer than before. "I'll leave you to your work," he said, gesturing towards the patient you were examining. It was clear that he was stepping away not just physically but emotionally as well.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you... for helping."

As Thomas turned to leave, you couldn't help but question your own desires. Did you want him to stay away, as you had insisted? Or did you secretly crave his presence, despite the chaos and danger he seemed to bring into your life?

“Thomas” you called and he turned to you

“I’ll leave in two hours'” you said and took a deep breath “at least take him somewhere with a heart monitor… If he means anything to you… hire a nurse… i don’t know” 

he took the longest deep breath you’ve ever seen him take and then he nodded, before leaving the room.

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[bluegalaxygirl]

Am i crazy? (Zosan X reader) P1

Plot: Reader hasn't been sleeping or eating, they wont let anyone touch then and keeps having accidents. Everyone if worried or thinks they've gone crazy but the reality is so much worse.

Warning: Domestic abuse (Not by the hands of Zoro or Sanji), Bad language, violence, self harm, blood, mental damage, forced kissing and manipulation.

Zoro X Sanji X reader, Poly relationship, established relationship, Reader is GN.

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8

It's been weeks since you last smiled, your face always tired and you body slumped when ever you sit or stand. You stopped doing all the things you used too, having to force yourself to do the minimum. Cuts and bruises covered your body form head to toe and the old scar on your lower back hurt when ever you did something, like someone was jamming their finger into it. The old scar looked worse than it actually was, You abusive ex stabbed you years ago and refused to take you to hospital, it took three days of begging and almost dying on the kitchen floor for him to let you out the house, your mother took you to hospital where you had to get surgery to fix the damage only for your mother to drive you back to him. You begged her to help you but his money was good, and she hardly had a roof over her head. It took you a while but you got out, you drugged him and ran away, left the island you were born on and traveled the seas. Joining the straw hats was the best thing that ever happened to you, you settled in quite quickly with the joyful crew and took it upon yourself to do all the chores and learn to fight. Falling in love again was hard but your two partners never crossed any lines, you were respectful, and they never raised a hand to you, they loved you and cared for you. Everything used to be so great but now you can hardly do anything without a looming feeling over you, a strange breath on your neck.

Sleep was impossible, whenever you fell asleep the pain in your back would get worse or your bruised ankle would get tugged, a kiss form one of your boys made you feel better but after words you'd feel a painful amount of pressure squeezing your arm or leg as if telling you to stop. You though you were going crazy and when you told Chopper about it he prescribed you sleeping pills. That night when you went to take the pills there was none there, you felt hopeless and just wanted it all to stop. Sanji made you more snacks than normal to keep your strength up and took up most of the chores around the ship for you, he praised you in every way but when he spoke like that you hurt in some way ending up walking away form him. Zoro refused to let you into the training room no matter how much you begged, he'd sleep near you where ever your sitting and staring into space. He'd try and get you to eat by sharing food from his plate but you always refused.

Dinner was almost over and you hadn't touched a thing, the feeling of someone looming over you made your heart race, no one was there but you could feel a breath on the back of your neck. Zoro sat next to you watching your tired and bruised up figure slump in the chair, his heart broke at the sight of you, he just wanted you back, the happy and energetic person he fell in love with. The breath leaves your neck as Sanji walks over standing behind you to look at your plate "Didn't take your fancy love?" he asks seeing your plate untouched. He sighs when you don't answer and picks up a fork putting some food on it "Please love, just a bite" he begs bring the fork to your lips. The pain in your lower back returns, feeling like a finger is twisting it so you push the fork away the pain subsiding as you do. Sanji sighs putting the fork back on the plate and taking it away from you and handing it to Luffy, the captain was more than eager to eat it, but he was worried about you, they all were but there wasn't much they could do. they had to trust in Chopper and hope you'll get out of your mental breakdown of sorts. "How about i run you a hot shower!" Nami smile getting up and offering you a hand. She was your best friend and tried her best to make you feel better. She would normally snap at someone for being like this, but she knew something was different about this, she didn't know what though. You stand not taking her hand as she walks out the door with you.

Zoro sighs watching you walk out the door, your cloths hanging loosely on your body, you were pale but with dark bags under your blood shot eyes. He hated it, he felt useless. Sanji sat next to the swordsman in the seat you left taking the mans hand trying to comfort the both of them. "Chopper" Zoro sighs gripping the cooks hand and looking across the table at the reindeer. "Yes?" Chopper looks up from the table to the two men. "Have you thought of anything else? Y/N won't tell us anything" The swordsman asks resting his head on his hand leaning on the table. Chopper looks down at his hands "The pills i've given them don't seem to be working but i am looking at other stuff, like teas." the reindeer looks back up with a sad smile. You're not talking much anymore and have refused therapy. "What do we do?" Sanji asks twiddling an unlit cigarette through his fingers. Chopper shrugs, he hates not knowing what to do, but he'll do his best no matter how hard the situation is.

Nami offered to help but you refused wanting to shower alone, maybe the hot water would help calm you down. The looming feeling was gone and you wanted it to stay that way. After getting undressed in the changing room and grabbing your stuff you headed into the bathroom, the shower running hot water, filling up the room with warm steam. Taking your towel off and putting your stuff down you stepped under the water, it felt good on your skin but the fresh cuts hurt a little. You felt around your body noticing new bruises on your arms and the one on your ankle a lot darker, running your hand behind your lower back, you felt the dent your ex left, it was sore and very sensitive, probably badly bruised too. You let the tears you've been holding back flow down your face, the water carrying them away as you sobbed under the shower. You managed to control yourself enough to wash your hair and then your body only to hear the bathroom door open and close. You froze, slowly turning your head to look at the door, no one was there but that looming feeling was back, your heart raced in your chest and you felt like you couldn't catch your breath.

A step hit the water close to you and you backed up into the wall dropping the body wash you were just using as you cover your mouth with your hand. More slow steps walked across the bathroom and to you only stopping in front of the running water of the shower. You trembled a little not knowing what was going on, maybe you have lost it, maybe you are crazy. Something reached through the water and grabs your arm pulling you through the water and throwing you across the room. You back hit the wet floor as you slid across the floor only stopping just before hitting the wall. You sat up and moved back about to yell out when something covered your mouth and pressure was leaning on your bruised ankle making you cry out in pain, what ever was covering your mouth made it very muffled. "Shhhhh.... don't worry little bird" your eyes widen at the male voice in front of your face, you recognized the voice and the nickname that makes you feel sick. A shimmer starts to form and soon vanishes revealing your ex boyfriend in front of you. His hand over you mouth and his foot pressing against your ankle. His other arm placed on his knee as he kneels down to you, his black hair now almost gone and his sickly handsome face smirking at you. "There we go" he whispers with a smile seeing you stop struggling under him. "You've grown over the past few years... i missed you" your eyes water as you look at him, all the bad memorized coming back to you. "Oh no you going to cry? i'm the one who should be crying" his anger boils the hand on your mouth squeezing tighter your hands going around his wrist to try and pull him away, but he's too strong in you weak state.

He sighs trying to clam himself and loosening his hand around your mouth "Will you be a good birdy and stay quiet for me?" he asks his eyes soft but you know better. You nod gritting your teeth as he slides his hand from your mouth down to your neck pressing you against the wall. "Good birdy, you still remember your place" he smiles pushing a strand of wet hair behind your ear. "You really hurt me sweet bird" he sighs leaning closer, you hold in a scream as his foot shifts on your bruised ankle only letting out a little grunt making him smile a little "I saw your wanted poster and knew i had to find you again. Im lucky you know, i had a lot of help but when i found you and saw you so happy with those two other guys" his grip tighten on your neck making you gasp for air trying to struggle under him as his eyes boil with anger "You're crew won't let you go willingly, so we'll have to make them kick you out" he slowly loses the grip around your neck as you pant for air tears falling down your cheeks "That's what i'm going to do. Make it so unbearable to have you around that they have to make you leave. i can't fight them even with my new devil fruit powers" he laughs a little shaking his head.

"W-What?" you whisper, his eyes connect with yours, he loves seeing the fear in your eyes. "There's this factory that makes devil fruits, it took me a while to get my hands on one, i was hoping i could use it to destroy your crew but when the Suke Suke no Mi fruit came along i knew it was the right one. The invisible man." his smile gets wider making you skin crawl "You've been doing this to me?" you ask your heart sinking in your chest, the past few weeks he's been around you, hurting you, stopping you form sleeping and eating and you had no idea. A part of you was happy you weren't crazy while the other part was full of fear. "Your too smart my birdy" he runs a hand through your hair before taking a fist full and slamming your head into the wall, you yell out in pain only for his other hand to go around your mouth again. "Now for some rules... Every time you do something wrong or that i don't like i'm going to hurt you like i normally do, if you do a good job I'll let you get a little sleep and eat a little, i can't have you dying on me." he leans closer to your face placing a kiss on your forehead.

"What are their names? Sanji and Zoro? if you touch them, talk to them, look at them or gods forbid kiss them i won't hesitate to kill them in their sleep, i want you to ignore then only and If you try telling anyone about me I'll make your life even worse" he lets go of your hair and wipe the tears off your face "I'm always with you and when i'm not, I'll lock you in your room where you'll be safe. i love you Y/n... All i want is to have you back, i'm the only one who can touch you" he lowers his hand back down to your neck and looks you over "I miss you so much" he whispers leaning in to kiss your lips but you turn your head away, you realize your mistake the moment it happened, you had no chose but to follow his orders and now you were going to pay the price. He growls pushing your body down onto the floor and getting in top of you to stop you form going anywhere. His hands around your neck as he strangles you against the ground "Don't you fucking turn away form me" he yells into your face before pulling a hand away and slapping you in the face, you cry out and try to push him off while yelling out apologies.

He lets go suddenly stepping over you and turning invisible as you curl up into a ball on the wet floor still apologizing over and over again. The door burst open Nami rushing in almost slipping in the wet floor as she stops next to you and gets on her knees to try and help you. Her hands touch your skin and you flinch away, you know he's watching you and you don't want to get hurt again "Y/N? what happened, your bleeding... there's no need to be sorry" she panics looking you over, seeing the back of your head leaking blood. She gets up and rushes out the room calling for chopper. You feel a hand on your back knowing it's your ex you don't flinch away knowing what will happen if you do "This time, I'll let that Nami girl and the doctor touch you... good birdy" he whispers stepping away as more foot steps approach. "Im sorry" you whisper one more time bring your hands up to your eyes to try and clear your eyes of the tears. Nami and Chopper run in and checks you over while Nami covers you with a towel and rubs your arm. You reach out your hand to touch her but pull away remembering he said they can touch you not you can touch them.

[corrodedseraphine]

perfectly wrong | #5 you are not alone

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

chapter summary: Although you are annoyed by Steve's attitude, you feel safer with him than in your own home. Unexpectedly, a concerned Robin appears, which makes you decide to reveal the truth.

TW: mentions of: pregnancy, domestic violence, bruises, blood (let me know if I forgot about something!)

The story is also avaliable on ao3

previous chapter | masterlist | steve harrington masterlist | general masterlist

What can I say... It's been a while. I am sorry and thank you for still being here and reading this chapter.

The Harrington residence was huge and filled with luxury, but this could not mask the feeling of cold and emptiness you faced as soon as you entered. You didn't have much time to look around though, Steve immediately led you to one of the guest bedrooms saying that from now on this was your room.

"Here are your clothes for change." he said looking into the dresser. "Robin left her things here because she often stays overnight, I think she won't mind if you borrow something for tonight. Tomorrow we'll go and get your stuff."

"How do you imagine that Steve? I'm just going to walk in there, pack up and leave?"

"Exactly like that." he replied dryly.

"What if he won't let me?"

"We'll go when he's not home."

"It's not that simple…" his attitude irritated you.

"Of course it's simple. We go in, get our stuff and leave. Just like that." saying this he snapped his fingers.

"Steve-"

"I swear if I hear my name pronounced like that again I'll go crazy!" He didn't let you finish. "You can always go back there, but expect Hopper to be at your door later tonight.

"This is called blackmail!"

"I don't care!"

"You can't just make me stay here!"

"Watch me!" he looked you straight in the eyes. Aside from the irritation on his face, you could see something else. Something the sight of which was extremely rare and confusing. Worry.

After a moment of angry silence, he spoke up in a softer tone. "Are you hungry?"

"No." You answered.

"That's where the bathroom is, and you also know where the kitchen is. I'm going to sleep, and you do what you want." he said quickly and left closing the door.

With that, you were left alone in the big bedroom. Resigned, you walked over to the bed, and slowly sat on it, holding your stomach.

When did it all become so complicated?

There were many conflicting emotions in you, on the one hand, just a few days ago you were sure that getting rid of the baby would be the best decision, but now, when you almost lost it, you felt that you had to do everything to protect it. That's why deep down you felt grateful, for Steve's attitude. Here you were safe. Despite the fact that you considered each other enemies by his side you felt safer than in your own home.

Slowly, you felt your emotions leaving you and being replaced by fatigue. Wanting to take advantage of the comfort offered to you, you simply laid down wanting to fall asleep, hoping that at least in your dreams you will be able to feel calm for a while.

It's been more than a dozen hours since Steve left you alone in your room. He knew you needed a rest, which is why he didn't even knock on the door to check if you were okay, since he guessed you were probably asleep. That didn't change the fact that he still felt anxious and worried. The darkest scenarios came to his mind.

What if you lost consciousness? What if the bleeding occurs again and this time it's too late?

Every now and then he passed by the room listening, but all he was met with was deafening silence. Finally, unable to stand it, he quickly prepared some sandwiches, put them on a tray, and next to them the medicines they prescribed at the hospital. Using that as an excuse, he knocked on the door.

"y/n? can I come in?" he asked.

"Yeah." he heard from behind the door. Your sleepy voice was a relief to him.

When he opened the door, the sight of you in the big bed in his house made him feel a strange sting in his chest. However, it was not the sting of hatred that very often accompanied him when he saw you. This time it was something that made him feel…emotional.

"I brought you something to eat and medicine. Don't forget to drink water, it's important." He said and put the tray next to you on the bed.

"Thank you." you replied quietly.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. "Do you need anything?"

"How long did I sleep?" you asked.

"Several hours."

"Oh my God…"

"What?"

"I didn't go to work! Robin is going to kill me!" you abruptly jumped out of bed.

"Hey!" he grabbed your hand and stopped you before you reached the door. "Are you crazy? You're supposed to rest not work! Robin can handle it, I'm sure she's already come up with at least five excuses on how to cover for you from the manager."

"But-"

"No. No buts or what ifs, go back to bed and eat." he said before you had time to say anything.

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" you asked feeling irritated.

"Are you really going to argue now?" he crossed his arms over his chest without taking his eyes off you.

"I need money, Steve. To have money I have to work! Is that so hard to understand?"

Before he answered anything he looked at his watch and then at you. "It doesn't matter anymore anyway." he said.

"What?" you asked confused.

"Look behind you." He pointed to the clock on the wall. "Your shift ended fifteen minutes ago."

"Damn it!" you cursed and resignedly sat back down on the bed.

"Listen, if you don't want to do it for yourself… do it for the baby. Eat the sandwiches and take your medicine, in the living room I've put some clothes for you, and towels if you want to take a shower." He said and walked out of the room leaving the door open.

Only now did you realize how hungry you were. Looking at the food you once again felt like refusing his help and telling him that he could go to hell, that you could manage on your own. Unfortunately, deep in your heart you knew this would be a lie. With difficulty you had to admit that you were grateful for his care and help.

Pushing your stubbornness aside, you began to eat. Although they were simple ham and tomato sandwiches, they tasted incredibly good. You couldn't remember when was the last time someone prepared something for you to eat.

Just as you were finishing eating, a loud knock sounded at the door in the house, and a second later someone opened it and walked in.

"Steve!" shouted Robin. "Steve, this is important!"

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"It's about y/n." you could hear nervousness in her voice.

Hearing your name, you walked closer to the door so that you could hear everything. Your first thought was that she came here to start complaining that you didn't show up for work and didn't even let her know. She had a right to be mad at you.

"She didn't come to work today."

"So?" Steve tried to pretend to be unconcerned about the situation.

"She didn't even let it be known that she wasn't coming!"

"So what?"

"Listen, I know you don't like her, but I'm really worried and I have no idea what to do about it. She's been behaving really weird lately. She's late for work, she locks herself in the bathroom during breaks, I've had a feeling for a long time that something was wrong, but today I got confirmation."

You felt your heart go up to the hail with every word she said. You really tried to hide everything from her, unfortunately it was Robin. Robin who will catch every detail and nothing can be hidden from her.

"Can you finally say what happened?"

"Travis came looking for her. He was drunk started a brawl and threatened that if he found her she would regret not being home when he returned. Fortunately, Mr. Munson was there and helped me get rid of him before he forcibly got into the back room. I'm telling you Steve, this man is unpredictable, what if he hurts her one day? What if he is already hurting her! What if all those bruises on her body are his fault?"

"Robin…"

"That's not all! Before we got rid of him he said something about the baby. About how she won't be able to raise a child on her own…"

"Ah, fuck."

"You think it's true, you think y/n is pregnant?"

Your heart was beating like crazy, almost drowning out the words that were coming from the other room. Each successive sentence from Robin sounded like a hammer blow, shattering your hopes of keeping everything a secret. You felt a cold shiver run down your back, and your hands began to tremble.

You had to face the truth. You couldn't expect Steve to lie to Robin and take responsibility for your secret. It was time to face the reality you had tried to ignore for so long.

Taking a deep breath you went into the living room holding your hand on your stomach, which very quickly turned into a fist clenching on your shirt. At the sight of you, Robin stood up as if she had been stunned, but Steve looked even more shocked by your appearance there. You opened your mouth to say anything however the only sound that came out of you was a pathetic whine. A second later you were already in your friend's arms crying like a baby.

"Oh my God, y/n, it will be all right. You are not alone."

All you could do was start crying even harder. There was a storm of emotions inside you, sadness, fear but also relief that the truth had come out.

Watching from the sidelines, Steve himself felt like he was about to cry. No matter how unpleasant the relationship between the two of you was, your situation and the sight of you in such a state was crushing his heart. He also tried to ignore the thought, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he wished he were in Robin's place right now. He would also like you to trust him enough to accept his presence and support in these hard times.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" she asked when you had calmed down a bit.

"We need to talk," you said heading toward the couch.

Robin sat next to you, holding your hand while you slowly told everything that had happened. Steve sat across from you, uncertainly looking at both of you. Although his face was full of worry, you sensed something more in his gaze - something that suggested he understood you better now than ever before. However, every time your eyes met, you quickly looked away.

"Why didn't you tell me? We could have done something about it, found help." she said quietly. Her eyes became glassy with tears.

"I was so scared, Robin, I still am, I am so sorry."

"It's okay." she said and hugged you. "You're safe now. You will stay here with Steven and me. I still think you need to let Hopper know as soon as possible, but it's your decision…Remember that no matter what, I'm here for you."

"I can't stay here."

"You can and you will stay." interjected Steve. "That's not up for discussion."

"Steve-"

"Y/n, no." interrupted Robin. "You know very well that you're safer here. It wouldn't even occur to Travis to look for you here."

"Finally someone agrees with me!"

"I swear to God, Harrington, not now!" Robin roared. "Where are your house keys?" she turned to you in a softer tone.

"I don't have… we didn't lock the door."

"Shit."

"We're both free tomorrow, we'll go get your stuff. We'll wait until he's not home."

"I can't just run away from home!"

"Why not?"

"He'll be looking for me, he'll come to work, he won't give us any peace knowing that you're protecting me."

"I'm not afraid of him, I've fought worse monsters than him."

"Robin…"

"Can you please trust us?"

You could have trusted both of them with your life. Even Steve, who treated you as an enemy saved it more than once. You knew that the only harm he could do to you was in the verbal way. Although he was often hard and harsh on you, over the past few days he had shown that he was able and willing to help you, willing to protect you. Why, you had no idea however, you slowly felt tired of rejecting him over and over again. Robin, as always, was your rock, ready to stand up to anyone who might hurt you.

"Can you please trust us?" Robin repeated, her voice was soft but firm.

You remembered all the moments when Steve saved you, when, against all his faults, he stood by your side. You remembered Robin, always loyal, always ready to make sacrifices.

"I trust you. Both of you." you sighed.

"You are not alone." she whispered in response.

When Robin left, leaving you with a sense of relief, you decided to get some fresh air and go out into the garden. The sun was slowly going down towards the horizon, coloring the sky with shades of orange and pink. You sat down on a wooden bench, and Steve took the seat next to you, somewhat uncertainly. For a while you were both silent, immersed in the silence and beauty of the sunset. Finally, he broke the silence.

"I'm glad you told Robin the truth," he began, looking ahead. "You can't imagine how hard it would have been for me to lie to her."

You looked at him sideways, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. Did he really want to lie to her to protect you? "I know, I'm sorry I put you in this situation. It is all so…complicated."

He sighed, combing his hand through his hair. "You don't have to apologize. I understand why you didn't want to tell anyone. But now that Robin knows…it might be a little easier. We're in this together."

"Thank you."

"Just to make things clear… I don't hate you, okay? Let's start over, the more I think about it the more I get the feeling that all this hate between us was somehow one big misunderstanding, I don't even remember why it was all like that."

When you heard his proposal, you felt surprised. You did not expect such a turn of events, but at the same time you felt that this could be a chance for a new beginning. "Let's have a fresh start. It may not be easy, but I think we both need it." He added and extended his hand toward you, as if to seal your new agreement. After a moment of hesitation you took his hand, feeling the warmth and strength in his embrace.

When you got home you immediately went to bed. You felt your heart beating faster at the thought of what the future would bring. Your situation was complicated, and living life with Travis had left deep wounds in you. You didn't know if you would ever be able to completely free yourself from them.

Steve, on the other hand, the last thing he thought about before falling asleep was that he was glad that for the first time in a long time he wasn't falling asleep alone in that big house.

taglist: @i-me-mine @phantypurple @tlclick73 @sheisjoeschateau @hollandweather @lma1986 @scarletwitchwhore @freezaz123 @ihatepeanutss @joekeerysmoles

[another-nihilist]

Please comment or reblog for my selfworth:

Idea for a boldheart fanfiction- feel free to add to it!

It begins post movie when Bal is in his tower and wants to plan a surprise for Ambrosius.

But since Ambrosius is literally glued to his side, it's literally impossible. And he kind of likes his boyfriend always being with him so he wouldn't tell Ambrosius to give him space.

Instead he pretends to be nimona with these easy steps:

1. Get earplugs and put them in his ears

2. Blast full on freestyle Jazz and pretend to enjoy it.

3. A pink Streak for the hair, just to be on the safe side.

At first it works, with Ambrosius even telling him that he would never fall for such a cheap Ballister Imitation. At least until Nimona opens the door.

Ballister meanwhile focuses on planning his suprise, as he doesn't hear the two.

So from Nimonas and especially Ambrosius point of view:

1. Ballister being apathetic and kind of lethargic, doesn't seem to register anything around him.

2. Ballister listening to very loud freestyle Jazz

So of course it doesn't take Ambrosius very long to drag Ballister away from what he was doing. Nimona is along for the ride and doesn't resist when Ambrosius literally orders her to take them to the hospital as fast as she possibly can.

Meanwhile Ballister wants to convince these two that he is completely fine but makes the mistake to not address the prank.

Ballister: Ambrosius there's really no need for that, I'm fine!

Ambrosius: you were listening to freestyle jazz, have a pink streak in your hair AND didn't react to me and Nimona for full five Minutes!

Ballister: Nimona, will you at least believe me? Ambrosius is not your boss you know?

Nimona: I don't know Boss...How many arms you've got?

Ballister: Two of course. What a question..

Nimona and Ambrosius: *Blankly staring at him*

Ballister: *realising what he said, eyes going wide*

Nimona: *flying faster*

Ambrosius: *pulling Ballister closer promising him that they'll find out what's wrong with him*

Then they crash land in the doctors office. The doctor literally sees that Ballister is fine. But doesn't want to tell that to a panicking Goldenloin and a feral shapeshifter. Therefore they send Ballister an apologetic look before diagnosing him of mental exhaustion and prescribing him a month of rest.

(Basically much needed holidays, after rebuilding an entire kingdom.)

Ambrosius takes Vacation too, because with Ballister being like this he will not take any risks.

Also because he is now the one in charge he will definitely show his newfound lack of impulse control.

*at the grocery store*

Todd: Hey Ballister!

Ambrosius: *shielding Ballister from having to look at him* *growling*

Ballister: *sighting* is that really necessary?

Nimona: No need to look Boss, you're on a well deserved break.

*Ambrosius beating up Todd in the background*

Also a full month of Ambrosius and Nimona full on fussing over Ballister and a lifetime of increased protectiveness so he doesn't ever again get into a state where he hears freestyle jazz.

And Ballister learning to otherwise organising suprises for Ambrosius and of course succeeding.

Also please add something to that post 🙏

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Not really a question but I just need to say this to someone who will understand. Also, people have asked you questions what a meltdown looks like. So this is mine, one of the worst I've ever had in my adult life.

I'm 40 years old and am so good at masking that I wasn't diagnosed as autistic until my mid-30s. Normally, I can blend into most social situations. However, I have been in constant pain for 2 months due to a medical issue, and the exhaustion of pain that will never stop has eroded away all the mask. I am now 100% Naked Autistic, because I am burned out beyond anything I've ever felt in my life.

Yesterday I had a complete and utter meltdown in the doctor's office, and it was terrifying. First, he entered the room angry, yelling at me to "stop being rude to my staff". I'm extremely sensitive to being called "rude" because that's what I've been called all my life, just for existing. I've internalized it and now I know, my existence is rude. So whenever someone calls me "rude", it hurts very deeply, even when I'm NOT in a burnout state.

This doctor was SO angry and yelled at me SO much and I couldn't hold it together, I started to cry. He told me to calm down "or else", but I was already in the middle of a meltdown, I literally couldn't.

Then he gave me bad medical news. My test results were inconclusive and didn't show what was wrong with me. Which meant there was no hope of my pain ending any time soon.

Thankfully my mother was there and she helped me communicate, and we at least got him to order more tests, and to prescribe me a new medication to try. But at no point did he become kind or merciful; it was clear from his face that he just wanted me out of his sight as quickly as possible, because I am "rude".

At that point I was so overwhelmed with emotions that I turned into an animal. I had to escape; my flight response kicked in HUGE. I ran out of there. The minute I was in the hall I started to scream at the top of my lungs, and I could not stop. I punched the concrete wall over and over (my hand is all bruised today, I think I'm lucky that it's not broken). People in the hall were terrified of me. Rightly so. I was violent and out of control. I tried to rip the pictures of the walls, but they were screwed down.

My mother was brilliant. She knew I couldn't stop, or speak, or listen. She said to me "Our goal is to get to the car. Let's get to the car. We can do it." Simple, clear direction that was easy to follow. I couldn't stop screaming or crying, but I could walk. She put her hand on my shoulder and guided me, down the hall, out the door, into the car. Because if I'd stayed in the building with that behavior, police could have been called. Very bad things could have happened. She saved me from that.

I screamed in the car for a long time. I could only sob and cry and scream. I think about a half hour went by. It was a long time. Finally, because I was in a safe place (our familiar car), with a person I trusted (my mother), the worst of the meltdown passed and I was able to stop screaming.

I was exhausted. I was terrified. My hand was killing me. I was like a puppy or a little child, helpless to my overwhelming emotions. Eventually, Mom asked if I'd like to get a donut from the donut shop across the street. She moved my mind onto something else. The donut tasted delicious (I mean its a donut), and that pleasant sensory input helped me focus my mind. I finally calmed down enough that we could talk.

I am 40 years old, live independently, have a professional career, a long-term relationship with my partner, and otherwise appear to be a "successful allistic". But yesterday, I was absolutely nonfunctional. If I didn't have my needs supported by my mother, who knows what could have happened.

I am much better today. Exhausted from everything, but not overwhelmed anymore. I'm telling this story so that others who go through a meltdown can know what it is- and why they're suddenly acting like that. It's because of my autistic brain, and the fact that it was overwhelmed with more emotion than a body can handle or express.

But it passes. It ends. The next day comes, and you can try to heal.

Hi there,

Thank you for sharing your experiences. I’m not sure if you’re seeing that doctor or not, but I would try and distance myself if you work together, or see each other.

That doctor, or whoever it was, is the rude one, yelling at people and being disrespectful and not understanding. Who walks in and randomly starts yelling at people?

I sometimes have my boyfriend or mom speak for me because sometimes I don’t know what to say or do in certain situations.

Sorry for the rambling. Thanks again for sharing. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

Also please try and get away from that doctor. Reading this made me sad and angry. I’m sorry you had to deal with this. Sending a hug.

[tblsomedoodles]

Ok, here's a really neat little idea I had about family web au in regards to Donnie. So... acommon headcanon about the boys is that turtle tot Donnie had glasses, right? And Splinter actually did have them as a teen, so i wouldn't be surprised if those fancy orange visers he wore as an adult wasn't a pair of sunglasses bur were actually a custom prescription with a tinted lense and Mama actually also wears glasses in her human form.

It is possible for sight to improve as you age. The opposite is actually far more common, so I think Donnie needed them as a tot he'd need them now, too. Some people joke about him doing eye surgery on himself to fix the problem, but I highly, highly doubt that because of 2 major factors. 1, Leo is the medic, and I don't think he'd okay something like that to be done by an amateur, and 2, Donnie himself wouldn't want to do it. He has major sensory issues, and surgery, no matter what you're doing with it, is a painful process unless you're literally passed out and high as a kite, so Donnie WOULDN'T be able to do it himself. Eye surgery itself is an extremely delicate process that, if you make a single mistake, can cause major lifelong issues and is also something someone who is squeamish about bodily fluids and generally has sensory issues wouldn't be able to stand (I get a little nauseous jsut thinking of the process and I've never even seen it done).

Also eye checkups are soemthingg that generally have to be done over and over but I don't think Leo would be able to do that once a year as reccomebded or proper prescribe a set of lenses to Donnie since that's a completely different field of medicine from what he was presumably studying. So I think Leo and Donniebdid get a pretty close but not perfect prescription of Donnie's lenses when they were kids but since they were kids and didn't know it had to be checked multiple times throughout someone's life they didn't think to update it over the years. So Donnie is working with a really old and out fo date prescription that he likely put into a homemade pair of contacts to more likely put in his goggles.

Which brings me to family web au and current day when Big Mama, having eventually got her babies medical history form Leo after a lot of convincing, realizes Donnie probably needs some custom made glasses made so they'd fit in his snoot and hadn't had a proper check up with a optometrist since he was first mutated.

as someone who's had to wear glasses 24/7 since i was eight, yes! Donnie's definitely going to need to see an optometrist along with the regular doctor. (i imagine Donnie's goggles have the prescription and he only pulls them on if needed.)

but do you know how excited Donnie would be over getting new glasses? Maybe not immediately (he probably stopped wearing proper glasses for a reason) but once he gets a proper set of definitely custom fit glasses, and realizes how much better he can see? He's just going to walk out the door and be like "HOLY SHIT! THERE'S LEAVES ON THE TREES!!"

Just the pure excitement of a kid that's being able to see clearly without squinting for the first time in probably his life.

Thank you!

You know what? Sure! CJ can have a tortoise as an emotional support pet. (I think he will be named Spike. lol)

Thank you!

[astrophelstella]

Lumine and Healers

The traveler gets into a lot of fights and dangerous situations. While they can't die or take permanent damage bc they're not human, they still need to see a healer. Probably frequently.

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lumine being unphased

Monstadt

Barbara is commonly seen fussing over Lumine in the Church hospital ward, gently lecturing her to be more careful and not be so reckless during her adventures. She's like Bennet but while its less frequent, her injuries tend to be more grievous. Bennet doesn't get into sparring sessions with the Wolf of the North every week. Its become a regular sight to watch the traveler limp thru the Church doors. She's so genuinely upset everytime she comes in with injuries, its like Jean but worse. Lumine never promises anything.

Jean being similar but more controlled with her scoldings. She's grateful for everything Lumine is doing and making her workload lighter by being more competent than all of the knights but she doesn't want the traveler to suffer. Leave the eradication of hilichurl camps to other people for a bit. Its giving 'disappointed big sister vibes'. Lumine just tells the Acting Grandmaster to do the same and watch her health.

Liyue

Imagine Qiqi stoically patching Lumine up, its routine at this point. While she won't say much Baizhu will. He's happy to gain such a regular but even he draws the line at the life-or-death situations she gets herself into. After the whole Beisht incident where Lumine literally launched herself in front of a diety only to get laser beamed into a mountain, he was fully exasperated the next time he saw her. It's like all his advice go in one ear and out the next.

Inazuma

It didn't take long for Kokomi to notice the Captain of Swordfish II being unafraid to face most things that have humans cowering. Lumine gets soft but blunt lectures as she gets patched up about facing a whole army on her own. While she did good making sure her troops got out unscathed they can't have them mimicking their Captain's actions. Lumine cleverly weaves her way out of the conversation.

Sumeru

Tighnari should have expected this. The first time they met she was passed out from accidentally coming in to contact with incense. Right after tending to her and prescribing medicine, the traveler went right back out into the wild, getting into every kind of trouble and danger known to man. He knows these types. His lectures are probably the modt ruthless out of everyone so far. He won't hold back until he knows Lumine would stop. Unfortunately, Lumine is stubborn as she's strong.

(Yes, Tighnari isn't a healer but there's no healers yet in Sumeru and he was the most suited)

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

Snippet:

"Hey Lumine?"

"Yed Paimon?"

"Why don't you care about getting hurt? It's impressive but everyone ends up lecturing you and being worried. Can't you be more careful..."

"... It never bothered me before."

"'Bothered you before'? Before what?"

"When I had my powers. I never felt pain. I never needed healing."

"Oh, that exains a lot."

"... and my brother used to shield me..."

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Our Hearts Collide - Chapter 9 - Part 2

*Warning - Adult Content*

Vince

I hardly had stepped foot into the clinic as Arthur pointed towards the various bottles of things along the back wall.

I followed him, taking in the sight of all the vials of medicine, the amount of lab equipment and the vast array of pill bottles next to the back window.

"Suppressants," Arthur explained as we neared the bottles.

"Our technology and medicine here have surpassed your pack's efforts... although, that statement could be false nowadays. Your work with rogues lately has been impressive."

"So, this is how Michael stayed sane," I found myself saying, eyeing up the supplies of suppressants Arthur was showing.

"How you're okay."

He scoffed before holding one of the bottles in the air.

"Okay wouldn't describe how I've felt after Damon died but yes, they're worlds better than the ones Damon lived off on."

'The same ones I depended on,' I thought morbidly.

"How did you manage to make this?"

Arthur fiddled with the bottle.

"It does the opposite effect than the ones you're used to. Damon's would be an equivalent to a downer, one that suppresses as you'd expect, stunts the connection of the bond, pushing those hormones and chemicals to low levels. Ours boosted those levels, creating a placebo-like feeling in our brain, sending what little hormones a broken-bonded or separated person would have and multiplying them tenfold, so it feels like it's normal. Of course, our doctors are better at explaining than I could but it had the opposite effect."

"It sounds so simple, to think my father or our doctors never thought to do that."

"It's much more complicated than that, it took years to get the right ingredients and proportions down to prevent an eventual crash in said levels. So far, the proportions of this one have shown promise."

Tentatively, my hand traced the table, picking one of the white bottles into my hand carefully.

The familiar sound of pills rattling in a bottle reminded me too much of back then when this had been my life.

"Your father fought our pack because of this. He wanted to capitalize on it, mass produces it and use it to eradicate same-sex bonds. We refused to give it to him as he showed no interest in offering a fair trade for our pack."

Arthur sighed.

"All we asked was for a peace treaty. He wanted nothing to do with me and the bond, so I suggested at least a peace treaty."

"And he refused time and time again," I finished for him, knowing our long history of denying peace treaties with their pack.

"Had he just been a fraction less of an asshole, things would've turned out so differently. Not just for him but for me. Hell, even Michael and Xavier wouldn't have had to deal with his shit."

Arthur scoffed.

"His hatred was rooted in envy. There was a lot I didn't know about Damon, like his relationship with his parents or even his friends. I probably will never fully understand the things he did. But when I look at you, I see a completely different story, Vince."

"If Xavier hasn't already drafted a peace treaty, I can assure you that will be our pack's top priority. Our pack could learn a lot about your way of life here, aside from the suppressants. Although, that would help a lot of wolves back home."

Arthur gave a pointed look before leaning against the table and gesturing to the bottles.

"I can have someone prescribe them to you if you need..."

"No," I bit my lip, not intending to sound that defensive.

"I mean, I told myself I wouldn't go back to that."

"They're not like what you're used to. They would be gradual doses, no side effects."

"No," I said firmly.

"I couldn't do that."

Arthur pursed his lips.

"I say this not to scare you but eventually your mind... your wolf... will go mad with distance. This could help the both of you, that is if you remain separated."

I set the bottle down, none too gently as my eyes wandered to the rest of the room.

"I can't do that."

"You could be happy, Vince. Simon too. I know it sounds terrifying but living without the bond, if you choose to do so can get better, I promise. You two could both be free."

I half expected him to add like me to that but he didn't.

His words were calm, not in any way pleading but I could tell that he wished for me to take them or at the very least, consider them but that wasn't what piqued my interest.

If Simon took these pills, he wouldn't have to worry about the bond, wouldn't have to worry when he was around Sam.

Although Simon would most definitely argue and refuse such pills, he could finally move on.

I could give this to him and he'd be free, happy.

Just as more questions came to mind, Clayton had stormed toward us, an unreadable expression on his face.

"What's the matter?"

"I received a call from your pack," Clayton said.

"Their Alpha."

'Xavier.'

Arthur turned to him.

"And?"

"You should go home, Vince."

He paused.

"No. You need to go home."

Arthur spared a glance toward me before looking back at his husband.

"Clay?"

"What? Why? I just started to..."

"Your mother," Clayton said abruptly before his features grimaced.

"She needs you. Your brother told me she doesn't have much longer. You should go home, now."

My heart sank to my stomach.

'No. No. No,' my voice was strangled as I let out...

"What?"

"He said it was urgent that you come home. Have you not told him where you were? He seemed confused and relieved to hear that you were here."

"No, I hadn't," I let out, the wave of shame washing over me.

I had been foolish before but this took the cake.

Xavier was most definitely worried out of his mind if he powered through his fear of calling other pack leaders like this and with mother... I felt sick.

What was I doing here?

I needed to get out of here.

"I'll drive you, it's faster," Arthur stated, gliding through the room to retrieve a pair of car keys.

It was the rational option, yet in my mind, I wanted to storm out of here, shift and run myself.

How could I have been so stupid?

This wasn't my home, wasn't where I needed to be, even if it did feel homier.

Home was there, with Xavier, my mother, with the pack.

'I needed to go home.'

My leg bounced the whole way in the car, the fears and thought of my mother dying without me there finally dawning on me.

Xavier was alone, he was facing this alone, without me.

What kind of older brother does that?

Even though Arthur was speeding as soon as we got on the main road, I was mentally pleading that he'd go faster.

What if it was too late or there was traffic?

Or she couldn't hold out the time it took to get there.

Would we make it in time?

No, I had to.... I had to make it.

As we neared an area of town I finally recognized, Arthur had fumbled around in his jacket pocket, pulling out a familiar bottle.

"Here," Arthur placed the small white bottle in my hands.

I turned it over, tracing my thumb over the label.

The same one he had shown me before in the clinic.

"It's a smaller dose. In case you or your mate ever decide to use it. I figured you were contemplating it and brought it just in case."

It felt heavy in my hands, I never liked the idea of having to rely on something like this again, Simon surely didn't either but if this meant he could live happily, then I'd make sure he'd get it.

I tucked it into my pocket before turning to Arthur, whose grip on the steering wheel had remained firm, his jaw clenched.

"Thanks. For this and for everything."

"You don't have to thank me," he responded dryly.

"To finally speak to you and introduce myself to you has been a long dream of mine. Knowing that I had missed out on your lives has been one of my deepest regrets in life. I had known about the suffering, the trauma Damon had caused and I did nothing to aid you, your brothers or even your mother."

"That's not your fault to bear, though."

"No but I could have done more. I should have... but like you... my fears hindered me, consumed me, really."

"Well, no more."

I smiled softly.

"It's about time we get over our fears."

"Indeed."

The corners of his lips rose, that rare smile of his resurfacing.

"To letting our fears go."

"To chasing after what we want," I said.

We shared a glance at each other.

He grinned, his grip on the wheel finally easing up.

"To no regrets."

"To no regrets," I echoed as we neared the dirt pathway that led back home.

[whocaresanymoreamiright]

talking abt dissociation bc BRO I'M SO OUT OF IT

these binges don't even make me feel that good anymore, i can't enjoy food like i did when it makes me dissociate sm :(

but still yk i just crave it when i don't do it.

but idk maybe i'll stop, like gradually decrease the amounts and the frequency over time bc i cannot stand this, i'm so out of it most of the time. this is why i stopped drinking (for a while) bc it just makes it worse. this is why i started sleeping more too. maybe i should eliminate sugar from my diet? :( but no i don't have mental capability for that, i mean with everything else going on. uh idk. i do need to improve my diet, i'm lacking nutrients i think. like vitamin c and stuff. i am an adult.

i can't remember the last time i felt fully awake and in the moment, but it couldn't be that long ago, dissociation only got constant recently, and i was dealing with it in summer too, i remember, but it wasn't that severe ig? or rather it wasn't constant or idk. maybe it just wasn't bothering me that much.

at least i'm not nervous! i can't be nervous in this state. so like this is how it's related to mental stuff imo, not just sleeping amd sugar and poor diet (and alc) but bc i'm like protecting myself in a way?? but at what cost lmao.

i think when i got rly upset bc of my friend a sh-d in the beginning of september, i was probably in the moment at that time. bc like you don't get the urge to sh when you're just. not even in this dimension lol. or at least i don't rly seem to get it.

tho i have an idea what if sh could snap me out of this. nah. i don't even wanna do it rn. this is what i'm talking about, this dissociation protects me. or maybe not, maybe it's a severe blood sugar issue and i'll be hospitalised very soon if i don't do stuff abt it. this is why i'd like to improve my eating habits also bc it's probs not good for my blood sugar if i just keep undereating 4 days a week and then absolutely binge and devour everything in sight during the other 3. so yeah. idk.

to sum it up, i don't like the dissociation :( i like it even less than not eating. idk how i'd deal with stress and nervousness if i didn't feel like this tho, but yk whatever. idk. so yeah it's like i don't like it but i do yk. it protects me in a way. again, i may be projecting and it's just the blood sugar. or some other physical problem.

anyway, i'll see a therapist sometime, my aunt said she knows one who could prescribe me antidepressants again, so that's nice. maybe he can help with this also. so yeah, hoping for the best ig and bye bye i'll go get ready for my calculus presentation now <3

[iceunhie]

So, um, I don't have any brainrot because my brain is dead. But ever since the trailer, I CAN'T STOP SIMPING AT NEUVILLETTE OH MY GOD. AND THOSE VIDEOS WITH THE OTTERS TOO SHSJSJKSKM

Sorry. Haven't been able to throw up my love for him to anyone so, yeah.

For a request, maybe painter! reader who wants to paints him? I mean, he is too majestic to not have any paintings of him hanging somewhere.

Thank you, and lots of loveee. It's okay if you don't want to write this too

AFFALATUS.

summary: in which you, an aspiring painter in Fontaine finds your muse in the ever-steadfast Chief Justice, and what better way do you express such a fondness for the Chief Justice than to use your artistic skillset to capture him in all his glory? ah, and perhaps capture his heart on the way.

notes: neuvillette x GN!reader (implied fem due to Neuvillette's use of 'my lady' though). comedic(?) super fluffy (haha are you sure abt that?) reader shenanigans, misunderstandings and reader being a simp (like me) sap, neuvillette is a sweetheart and i may have gotten carried away help. she fell first he fell harder trope, dialogue focused and relationship development mostly. reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Sometimes, you think that had you not chosen to be an artist; a painter, to be specific, you would certainly do well as a Bard, or a writer. The sheer amount of poems and song you could conjure up in your head detailing the fine traits and qualities of such a finely procured man such as Neuvillette would certainly make you someone of great renown, as you could prescribe and go on and on about his person. Would you be displayed at the Palais Mermonia, perhaps? As a fine appreciator for the Chief Justice's conduct?

Haha, your foot. Fontaine would sink itself under the waters before you would be recognized, much less acknowledged. Such was the pain of being but an ordinary person, getting by the day slowly but surely.

Artists all look for their muse. Whether be in in music, the nuances of literary work, or in your chosen profession, the art of color, the art of capturing life at its most raw form through the canvas. painting. It just so happens that your current muse happens to be the wonderful, all knowing, and breathtakingly striking Monsieur Neuvillette.

Which is what led you to your current conundrum. How would you be able to capture his image? Sure, there were official shots of the Chief Justice, but you would never be satisfied with that. The real deal is always the best reference. (you don't want to admit it, but you know you could easily paint him with but a few pictures as a reference point. you simply wanted to see him up close, says that shameless heart of yours.)

Monsieur Neuvillette was a very, very busy man. Simply garnering an audience with him would cause much of your yearly savings and the sparsity of your visit would never let you finish that painting of his image truly capturing his allure. But you were never one to give up once you've set your sights on something, though.

...Which, unfortunately, leads you into more trouble than it's worth.

Your face burned in embarrassment as the Chief Justice himself scoured through your paintings and sketches personally, humming absentmindedly in between them, calmly sitting with you in his very quarters at the Palais Mermonia. You didn't expect that Monsieur Neuvillette would be so perceptive, as he immediately noticed you following him (if only to document his actions and sketch him) and for him to personally interrogate you about your actions. Well, it didn't matter anymore, so might as well fess up, right? The last thing you would want is for your dearly beloved muse to think you were some sort of deranged stalker, and you end up with some sort of crime....

While the morbid curiosity of seeing what he was like in an official trial was tempting, you pushed that thought away as you began to sputter out your words.

"Please forgive me for my disrespectful actions, Chief Justice! I swear, I had no malicious intentions at all...!"

you immediately spill out the words, a thousand apologies ready to spill itself out your mouth. to your great surprise and relief, the Chief Justice simply shakes his head, as he puts down your sketches of him.

"Please, it's no offense at all. If anything, I am flattered that I am a subject to most of your impressive works, my lady. your talent is remarkable."

"...Pardon?" you look at him, disbelief coloring your face. this was unexpected.

"You actually... think that my work is, is good?"

The man next to you nods, his face not betraying a single emotion. Goodness, you could almost faint. He was even more beautiful up-close. Such sharp eyes, and such unique patterns... ahem.

"If you wished to capture me as a work for your latest masterpiece, my lady, you must at least inform me, or schedule an appointment with me. I would be more than happy to oblige."

"But I don't have the Mora, Chief Justice..."

"Ah. That can be arranged."

You thank the Hydro Archon for Monsieur Neuvillette's kindness. To think that he personally arranged a meeting for you to sketch him and bring your dreams of capturing him in a portrait come true...

Oh, you shall put all of your modus operandi into this piece, now that your spark has been lit. This is a debt you will definitely not forget, and you hope that your portrait can repay that.

And so, for over the next few months, you would arrive at the Palais Mermonia with a specially curated trinket (personally handed to you by Neuvillette) to show to the Melusine Sedene to access a personal audience with the Chief Justice. For the first few weeks, you're besought with joy at the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

You would sketch and accompany Neuvillette as he would do his business. When asked by him as to why you did this, when you were simply capturing his image, he said, you sent him a mortified look, before you explained.

"Art is not just simply putting what you see on a canvas, Monsieur. It is observing, emulating, and envisioning the subject and using that as a way to bring life and meaning to a canvas. It is the very expression of the soul, a longing to etch what the artist thinks is beautiful to a permanent surface...! Ah."

"So you believe that I am such a subject?"

You look sheepish, as you had begun to ramble and reveal your fondness for him.

"Forgive my insolence, Chief Justice. My talk of the arts may not suit your fancy or disinterest you..."

"Neuvilette."

"Yes?"

"...I do not mind you wishing to converse with me. As I shall see you more for the next months as you bring your work to life, as you say, addressing me not by my title is mandatory. I would prefer it if you would simply call me by my name, my lady."

"And..." he looks at you, a little more softly this time. "I do not mind being subject to your talk of the arts either. Converse with me about such things if it makes you feel comfortable."

"...Understood. Then, Sir Neuvillette, I am [name]. I look forward to working with you."

"As do I, Miss [name]."

He offers his hand for you to shake, and you feel yourself flush just a bit, before you firmly shake hands, as you smile at him gratefully.

Little did you know, that your talk of the arts caught his interest, as did his curiousity of you.

"Why do artists such as you enjoy to be so swayed by your work, Miss [name]? To the point where your ilk would happily go without a human's basic needs.... It is fascinating to me. Is this a common characteristic among the practitioners of those who dabble in the arts? What drives your kind to be so interested in such things so deeply?"

Overtime, as Neuvillette and you both eased into the steady routine of you observing him, sketching him, making a few brushstrokes in your canvas, and him simply going about his day, conversations about the subtleties of human life and human needs became a common source of pleasant conversation.

To Neuvillette's great surprise, and secret appreciation, your views were unique, and completely different from his, or any other average Fontainian citizen. Your contrasting views are evident by your conversations, as you both try to understand the other through talks of the ways humans think, and how they live their lives in spite of how fleeting it is. He thinks of you as peculiar, but he doesn't dislike it. If anything, he finds it endearing. That your mind would be able to reach conclusions that even he would not be able to reach. That you hold onto your views in such a beautiful and captivating way.

He enjoyed it. He very much enjoyed your company, and your discussions. He hasn't felt such feelings in such a long, long time. The feeling of being understood, and being challenged. Of being... calmed and liking someone's presence, of being fond of it, even.

As even more months passed, conversations like that have also been overtaken by conversations about your daily lives, as you ramble about your day as you continue your work on the canvas, and the normally silent halls of his chambers fill with your and his voice, as you both revel in each other's company.

Neuvillette thinks he's never seen such a fascinating individual such as you. Who can question and break down his steady beliefs, and who he was able to open up to with time.

He wonders to himself after you've long retired for the night. After you finish your work and these days of tranquility and these conversations he so cherished will end, would you grace him with your presence again? Or would you simply just see him as the ever righteous and untouchable Chief Justice once more, and not as 'Neuvillette', the one who conversed, questioned, and listened to your views, and would he simply see you as nothing more than a mere painter who simply took him as a subject to their latest work?

You both would become strangers, never entangling yourselves again as your lives go on.

For some reason, the thought of that makes his heart twist uncomfortably.

The painting of Neuvillette is stunning.

You almost burst into tears of joy at the finished work. Yes, yes, this was it! Your work and efforts have finally paid off. Countless hours and different techniques tried, many changes and many frustrated nights, and it has finally been completed.

Brushstrokes of different shades of blue, the vibrant background, and the features of the Chief Justic-- No, the features of Neuvillette. The painting dons him in an expression of tranquility, as fleeting as his expression is, it is forever captured in color, with you as the sole witness to it.

Now, the only thing you have to do is deliver it to Neuvillette's chambers. He did promise you compensation, after all. Who were you to disagree? And for the price he gave... Ah, being able to grow close to him meant you were of course paid well for your efforts, after all.

(not that you would care if he didn't compensate you or not. his company and his leniency to your actions and your passion, as well as letting him see and hear your thoughts and feelings and let you listen to his pondering for the months that passed would have left you satisfied anyway. such was your enamoured state with him.)

It's raining heavily when you arrive at his chambers one final time. Sedene greets you, as if used to your presence already, by how much you frequent. You feel a pang of inexplicable sadness at bidding Neuvillette's company a final farewell.

You would soon be just a spectator, and never truly see 'Neuvilette' again as you did at the months that passed. The conversations, the familiar routine of chatting with him about inane to deep topics.... Yes, you shall miss it as well.

You wonder if he'll miss it too. (will he miss you?) You can only take a deep breath, as you knock on his chambers for one last time.

"...Come in, Miss [name]."

As expected, your work is beautiful. Neuvillette was not lying when he thought of that last statement. Your portrait of him is serene, calming, and... and so lovingly curated by you.

Unlike most of his official portraits and pictures, this particular portrait exudes an aura of familiarity, a testimony to your bond that has slowly developed with time. this portrait was created with the intention of capturing him as 'Neuvilette.' Not as the Chief Justice of Fontaine, not as the leader of the Marchaussee Phantom, but simply as the Neuvillette you spent time with, you indulged in, and grew fond of.

(did you grow fond of him as he did of you? did he occupy your thoughts, as you did with his own?)

His heart skips, but this time it's an intense feeling of longing. He doesn't wish to be deprived of your presence, of your comfort.

Of your warmth, just yet.

"...euvilette? Neuvilette?" your voice is soft, he thinks. it snaps him from his thoughts, as he looks at you, and he sees you donning and expression of sheepishness, hesitancy.

"it is lovely. your work, i find it exquisite, [name]."

he turns to look at you, his expression softening. for the first time in a long time, his lips curl into a real, genuinely happy smile. (only for you.)

you flush at his words, as you hang your head down, your expression betraying the true extent of your feelings towards his words (and towards him.)

there is a few beats of silence, before one of you takes the plunge.

"If I may, may I be inclined to seek your company... even after our arrangement has ended? if, if it isn't bothering you, of course."

you blink at him, processing his words for a few moments, before a radiant smile graces your face, mirth overtaking your expression.

"Of course."

your words make his heart beat once more, as he feels this foreign feeling invade his conscious once again. he doesn't hate it.

the heavy rainfall stops, as does his worries and his doubts. he may not know exactly what this feeling is right now, but there's one thing he can't deny.

He's glad you came into his unchanging, ever-present world, like a splash of color to his normally dull, rigid life. He recalls a conversation you had once before.

To you, art was the expression of the soul, the permanent etch borne of its creator's love bleeding through a myriad of brushstrokes of passion, comfort, longing and intense desire. coalescing into one form, a permanent fixture of the unchanging and deep feelings that only a few would truly want to understand in its whole. To want to uncover everything, and appreciate it in its entirety.

While it may have been you that called him your muse, and it may have been you that called him to be a 'work of art,' Neuvillette can't help but think that it was you, who truly deserved such a title.

© 𝐌𝐇𝐈𝐈𝐄𝐄𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.

[vodika-vibes]

(Ooo I like Xyn’s tattoo! Fun fun fact)

["Oh." Xyn blinks at you, "Then I haven't eaten or slept since then." He admits as he tears his gaze away from his datapad, "I also haven't taken the pain medicine I was prescribed either. I've been...busy." He motions to the stacks of books, loose flimsy, and his datapad, "I messed up somewhere. And now everyone's hurt." He says, casting his gaze back to the mess in front of him.

And then he pauses and stares at you wide-eyed, as if just realizing that his words could be seen as disobeying his medic, "b-but, I do have the medicine!" He adds, as he rapidly pushes back to his feet to go and find said medicine. Only the only thing the quick movements did was cause him to make a pained noise and grip the edge of his desk for support as pain shoots through his body. "S-sorry, sorry. Give me a second."]

I quickly stand up and support him, bearing most of his weight. “Xyn! Are you okay?” I ask worriedly. I gently guide him to sit back down. “I’ll get it, where is it? And here, eat this. You must be starving.” I frown again and hand him some food and a water bottle I brought. “I figured you wouldn’t have eaten or had anything to drink since you left the medbay. I brought these just in case. You should take the medicine with food, anyways, or it will upset your stomach.” I sight deeply. “Please don’t push yourself so much. It’s not your fault the mission went south. No one could’ve predicted what happened.” I softly brush some of his hair back from his forehead in a soothing gesture. “Please eat.” I frown, sad to see him in pain and blaming himself.

-💋 anon

I just really like tattoos, and Xyn feels like the sort who would get tattoos that have meaning behind them. Not like Grain, who only wants to have his love for his brothers written on his body.

Xyn gratefully accepts your aid, and absently leans into your touch, grateful for the affection. "It's over there," he gestures to his bed side table, where the small bottle was half buried under one of his shirts, "and I should have known. It's my job to know these things. And because I didn't see it, my brothers are hurt." He turns his almost desperate gaze towards you, "It's not my fault, right? I didn't miss anything? I couldn't have prevent this?"

[kellachfromthewoods]

What have you been doing lately?

I saw the match between the Second Azuro and Famed Mimic Gogo.

I thought I was the only mimic alive. I'm not. I thought the skills were innate. They can be learned. Self-learned from what I'm seeing because Gogo did not look like someone who'd seen actual combat as himself.

The abilities he used... the ones he learned. High level magic. The kind I can't even cast while miming. I've got work to do.

Maybe accepting my limitations with magic, refusing to ask myself why I wasn't able to cast was wrong. After all, if I can cast Blue Magic, why can't I cast actual magic? Seems like a simple question yet I never asked it of myself. Even if I were to learn just Cure or Fire/Ice/Thunder, it would still be better than now.

Thing is, looking back since I have a lot more time being an assistant to Eamont in healing down in or near Gridania (it helps that I can mime his spells and maybe hold angry patients down), I've never really used my own power. When I first donned the mask and the leathers, I was drawing upon the stories of my people - more specifically Kechire Hunter, the first man (we later learned she was actually a woman but I didn't know it at the time) to be exiled by the Elements for mounting a hunting expedition outside of the prescribed times to slay a massive coeurl that'd gotten taste for the townsfolk and farmfolk.

She gave me that power, and as I grew into my own person, maybe I lost sight that any power outside my own body is not my own. Rather, I should say that I forgot it was, since I made up outright ludicrous alternate egos and drew power from these.

In the end, did I ever grow up from that bedridden kid who wanted to become a hero? I'm still playing at it today, with the people I've read about in these books.

Now that I've travelled the world, that I've experienced so much... Is it still responsible for me to play?

...

Yes. Especially since my playground has expanded so much. I'm not shackled to the stories of my people. I've learned of the legendary Dragoons of Ishgard, including the story of Kain, who abandoned duty for honor. Or Mog, the only moogle to ever simply carry the name Mog and who had mastered the Dragoon skillset without even encountering Ishgard? Palom and Porom, who at the age of 5 were sent to help on a journey to save the world. Tales from the Far East about a summoner, a black mage puppeteer and a plucky thief going on a pilgrimage.

How many of the stories are true? The question is irrelevant. It's what they inspire that matters. At the end of the day, it's all about doing the right thing, and doing what you can.

Besides, if I've ever had good ideas anywhere, it's fashion. Drawing power from the tales of the past and if I ever somehow get the Echo, maybe even heroes from the future? Stories of other shards? Who knows?

Either way, I think I just heard someone yell about their arm being broken, so I suppose I'm gonna have to stop writing this and start wrenching it in place before Eamont lets the healing spell loose.