#sense of how to support my friends because I adjusted myself to supporting her but like not everyone need supported like her and in fact

[cowgirlcherrie]

THE PRINCESS DIARIES — *ೃ༄

rockstar! ellie x princess! fem! reader. wc: 11.4k

synopsis: discovering your sense of self after a lofty adjustment to the throne, your guitar-wielding ex-fling shows you that you shouldn’t hate the world.

warnings: 18+. MDNI Sarah is alive in this and is r! best friend, Abby cameo, WOC coded fem! reader, mentions/talks of death, jealousy, smoking (Ellie smokes cigs), bickering, arguing, enemies to lovers, closely inspired by The Princess Diaries movie, mean-ish! Ellie, cursing, rushes to perfection, panic attacks r! has one, anger management classes/ anger issues, Ellie is kinda reckless in this, College-modern! Ellie adjacent, kissing, mentions of hook-ups. best friends sister kinda thing, petnames (princess, dear, baby), kinda slow burn

━━ ♪ Enchanted by taylor swift, I know you by faye webster

a/n: hi my loves this is an almost 200 followers gift, because I love you guys all so much and I'm so glad that you are supporting and enjoying my work, please enjoy because this is a long but sweet one similar to my totally clueless work, inspired by one of the cutest movies everrr - 100% inspired by this art that I’ve seen as welll♡♡

It was time to trade your t-shirt and skirts for dresses, converses to heels. Rags to riches. Royalty knocked on your door like a death sentence, and you were sick of it.

“Did you seriously give my cat a tiara?”

This was not the first thing you wanted to see coming back to your dorm after a dreadful 3-hour class. Your precious golden locked tabby resting on your pink decorative pillow with a toddler tiara on his head — contrasting the scowl on his face as soft meows left his mouth in discomfort. He almost looked like yourself. Bitter and dissatisfied.

This seemed to be an everyday occurrence. Your vivacious roommate, Sarah Miller, loved to tease you about the title you hated the most. Royalty. With Royalty comes nobility and class. The ball gowns, prestige, and perfection almost made you want to throw up at the sight of it. But you couldn’t bail for the sake of Glendale being without a ruler or the public shame, you couldn’t back out – It was far too late. 

When the words Princess Hier fell out of your grandmother’s mouth, you felt every wall of comfort fall down. A safety shell forms around your body, fighting the change. The change was supposed to be good, but this felt mentally taxing. Not like it was the end of the world — however, to your peace and serenity it was. Moderately shying away from public acknowledgment would be more conventional to you.

“Isn’t he cute, a little prince…of Glendale” Sarah laughed, rubbing your cat’s face to which he jumped off the bed, hiding underneath the plush mountain that was your mattress. All you could do was groan. Throwing your body dramatically onto your bed, The Jackon U baby tee on your body lifting up slightly to expose your stomach as you inhaled and exhaled deeply. 

“Wish I could retire myself from the royal family” you dragged, looking at your phone now to see the arrangements of messages. Specifically, the one from your grandma saying you had princess training and a brunch with her at 5 tomorrow. 

“Isn’t that all we ever dreamed about…hell you even have a personal bodyguard,” Sarah emphasized, “How cool is that!” the girl sat on her bed, painting her nails a plush pink color humming the tune of the Ariana Grande song that she recently bought on vinyl. 

Sarah was right, whilst it sounded good, the thought of exchanging your personal freedoms for a title disgusted you. How were you to be the people’s princess when you couldn’t even navigate adulthood properly? It was strikingly overwhelming. Your mother, coddling you away from the fate of your future just made it worse.

You groaned again, “Next subject…” 

“Will you be here tomorrow? Going to Ellie’s, the band is practicing for the Spring Festival” Sarah inquired while blowing on her nails with ease. Right…Ellie. Your sworn enemy Ellie, Sarah’s sister…Ellie. She was enigmatic to you, certainly, the type you don’t bring home to Mama, just a rebellious firecracker. You could smell the faint aroma of cigarettes and wood just by thinking about her. Her presence was frustrating to you. Surely she felt the same. 

You weren’t sure how you have come to dislike Ellie, it seemed set in stone, written off in the stars for the two of you. At the first meeting, you thought everything was perfect. That she would be a friend, not a foe. You found Ellie to be quite pretty, with short hair and tattoos to contrast your girly attitude. She wore a large leather jacket when you first met her. Cigarette hanging lowly from her lips as she smiled at you. Chartreuse orbs twinkled as her hand was out for yours to shake. You were naive, she was an arrogant know-it-all, but not with you. 

Wherever there was Sarah, there would certainly be you, the blonde dragging you to every event, every show. You were Sarah’s cheerleader, Ellie’s too. You recalled the night you and Ellie got stuck stargazing on the rooftop of the science building. It seemed downhill from there, an accidental liplock where you made home with her lips on yours. The pillow-like clouds that encompassed your own, despite her rough attitude, she was gentle with you. 

Her hands held your waist as if you were fragile. She kept pushing, kept kissing until her cheeks were flushed red and breathing seemed obsolete. She kissed like she would never see you again, as if you were dissipating in her hands. With Sarah to your rescue, Ellie had to ruin the moment by saying, “Don’t tell anyone”

So you didn’t. It was your little secret. Pushing your newfound feelings aside and instead found yourself wandering eyes to Lacrosse player #5, Abby Anderson. The first time you brought it up, you were certain that Ellie Williams officially despised you.

“There’s this girl…I really wanna get with her by the end of the semester” You told Sarah, the two of you sitting in the band basement’s brown couch. The two of you gossiped after her band practice. You swore that there were only the two of you in the room, not caring to whisper or lower your tone.

“Oh my…what’s her name?” Sarah whispered as she leaned into your figure, prying for more.

“Abby, on the lacrosse team.” You confessed making Sarah’s jaw drop in shock. 

“No way, everyone fucking wants Abby! She’s hot though, and you’re hot too…If the two of you were alone in a room I think you truly could hook up with her!” Sarah chimed in, nodding her head in pleasure. You could only giggle. “No way” 

“Yes!..way!”

“No—”

“I don’t see it” Ellie spoke up making her presence known in the room. Walking to where her guitar stood on the stand to unplug it from the amplifier. Your body jumped at her sudden entry, the pitter-patter of your heart, beating like a knocker on the door. You weren’t sure if it was her presence that made you nervous or if it was the fact that she was saying no, to you seeing someone else.

Was it anxiety? Fear? Or sadness? Possibly all 3.

“Huh,” you mumbled, smile dropping as you eyed her figure who wasn’t paying attention to you. Vision getting cloudier by the second.

“Just saying…you’re gullible, overly trusting and fuckin’ virginal…she’ll wreck you – probably hit n’ quit [Ellie!]” The sound of glass shattering replayed in your head. Your lips were separated, but a sound refused to escape your lips. Waterline full of crystal clear tears as the room, and the girl in front of you grew shiny. The words that Ellie said sticking with you. It was cold and low of her, Ellie even knew she might have gone too far, masking her feelings with the coldness that felt like a warm hug to her. Ellie knew better, finally looking at you, her heart tearing at the sight of disbelief on your face. Watery eyes, she was fucked up. But Ellie wanted you to let it go. She wanted to let you go.

It wasn’t for her, hell it was for you. If Ellie wasn’t so emotionally constipated she would have changed her mind and been honest with you. The way your glossed lips felt on hers that night, she could get used to you being hers, that’s all she could ever dream about since it happened. Since you shook her hand the day the two of you first met. She wanted you to be hers.

Ellie Williams was a first-class asshole.

Now you never ended up dating Abby, hell you wish you did. Choosing to drop your little crush and focus on yourself instead. Especially after finding out your royal status, love seemed immature, and off the table – almost overrated. Others, however, thought the future was bright for Ellie and yourself. Sarah was convinced the two of you would end up dating in the future, often rambling about how the both of you would hate each other so much, that you end up infatuated with each other. All bullshit.

Lies.

“Just hearing her name makes me barf!”

“You’re so dramatic!” Sarah yelled, shaking her head at your response “M’not going” 

“It’s from 2-4 and I know you aren’t doing anything, just come! You get to hear the song I’ve been working on for the past week and a half…please” Sarah began, her voice was convincing. Hell, she was always a little too convincing, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever tell the sweet girl no. You were getting ready to shake your head, giving the girl a guilty look as she pleaded some more, this time she fluttered her eyes at you, hopping off of her bed to come onto yours shaking her hand on your shoulder. “Sorry…Sarah”

“Pleaseee…I’ll make sure Ellie doesn’t bother you!”

Your eyes snapped open. “Out of sight, out of mind — I’ll come” you hissed as Sarah only jumped in excitement, throwing her body down to hug your figure. Making you let out a huff in surprise, followed by a laugh at the sudden weight. It was times like this that you enjoyed with your best friend. The moments where she said yes, and you said no but she’ll change your mind and in the end, remorse wasn’t something you felt. 

But then you thought back to people who weren’t Sarah, the rest of the band…Ellie, your little princess secret wasn’t out yet hell you haven’t even given it the green light. People talk like trees in the wind. It was only a matter of time before the tabloids got sold a story and your face was plastered on every newspaper. 

JNU PRIDE? Princess of Glendale goes to Jackson U

Princess of Glendale likes to kiss girls!

Princess of Glendale…party monster?

Your brain combusted at the thought of seeing you headlining the news with some obnoxious title. You dreaded it — looming over you like a giant storm cloud. You shoved Sarah off of you, staring at the girl with your pinky out, “Can you promise me something?” You started, eyes full of seriousness and a fury like no other, you were no longer laughing. 

“You cannot tell anyone [Ellie?] not even Ellie, about my princess duties…not yet, I’ll do it on my own.”

Sarah now was mirroring your serious expression, kissing her pinky softly before wrapping it around your own with great force and weight.

“You’re secret safe with me…Princess”

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Somewhere along the way you were sure anyone could see the steam blowing out of your ears in anger. Sarah, while convincing, was not convincing enough. You should have opted out. Sitting on the rundown sofa in the band’s garage, You were certain Ellie was going to snap your head off. Part of you wondered why you still didn’t like the girl, was it her cockiness, overly large ego, or the way her hair shined like a fresh berry in the sun, or the constellation-like freckles on her—

“What are you doing her– is that my sweater?” the redhead rolled her eyes while tuning her guitar. Ellie’s eyes looked you up and down, slowly tracing her eyes from the pearl white knee-high socks, and black mini skirt before landing on the blue graphic crewneck you wore. Her once soft gaze now hardened, as if she suddenly had the realization of where the two of you stood. 

“This is not yours…it’s Sarah’s” You snap, crossing your arms across your chest. Ellie was next to you on the couch, The familiar scent of cigarettes and wood drowning your nostrils, it was intoxicating. Like fumes of a fire.

“...and where do you think Sarah got it from?” Ellie responded with a condescending tone in voice. She was pushing your buttons today, maybe slightly harder than she actually does. 

“I Don’t remember you being such a —”

“Such a what–”

You paused. Ellie looked away from her guitar to now glaring at you. Ellie’s hand was up to her ear, queuing that she was listening, eyebrows raising slightly. Your lips sealed tightly, as you sunk your body into the couch, trying to camouflage yourself from her vision. The room suddenly felt small. Air thick almost choking you.

“Thought so” Ellie spat, dismissing you with her hand while she continued to tune her guitar. Bitch, you muttered under your breath, now looking around to see if Sarah suddenly decided to make her re-entry. “Heard that”

The room was silent once more. The strumming of Ellie’s fingers hitting the G or the B chords filled the room, assisted by your small coughs. You could feel her body heat radiating to you, despite being so close yet so far on the couch – a noticeably large gap between the two of you. 

Ellie now rested her guitar flat on her lap, digging through her pockets and taking out a black light, along with a pack of Marlboro reds. Placing the toxin between her lips – cupping her free hand to block the wind from the flame. Ellie shook her head to herself as she exhaled the smoke.

“How are you?” she questioned out of the blue, tucking the lighter back in her pocket.

This was weird. Highly, extremely weird. The two of you bickered so much that you forgot what a normal conversation with her felt like. “How was your day?” was enough to break the ice, it surely was better than a “go home” or some outrageous insult she could think of. She was making small talk. Cheap chat.

“Fine…yeah I’m alright” you mumbled bringing a finger up to your mouth, chewing away at the flesh surrounding your nail. The pregnant silence filled the air again, Ellie’s bracelet jingled as she brought the cigarette to and from her mouth. Her left leg now bouncing up and down. “How…about you?”

Your eyes darted to the cigarette, watching as it burned quickly, the ashes building up, while Ellie would wait for the ash to build before cutting it away in the tray. 

“Fuckin’ fine too…” Ellie’s raspy voice wavered, almost as if she wasn’t trying to convince you more so herself. Her sudden movements were screaming that there was something that she wanted to say. The pace of her leg bouncing sped up while she also flipped the lid of her cigarette box opened and closed, almost feening for another stick in her mouth – perhaps the whole box.

“You don’t…look fine” You challenge, tilting your head at the girl next to you.

“Thanks, captain, fuckin’ obvious…not that you would care though” Ellie combatted, blowing the cigarette smoke away from your face. This time her hand was tangled in her hair, threading her fingers through her hair before pushing them back out and to the nape of her neck. 

You shrugged “M-Maybe I do…” 

“Oh sure, you do” Ellie laughed sarcastically, putting out the end of her cigarette, followed by a cough.

“You fuckin pry to everyone around you…or just me?” Ellie was getting mean. She didn’t mean to, the delivery of everything she would say getting more aggressive, and that was frustrating her even more. The girl swore she was working on being a better communicator – requested by Sarah who had to check Ellie for everything she said.

“Yeah, I totally pry to fucking bitchy assholes!” You yelled at Ellie. The tone of the room was shifting, the hostility growing back with swiftness.

“You and your prissy little attitude…”Ellie began, shaking her head as she turned her body this time to look at you, shrugging off the guitar from her lab, instead placing it next to the couch “You think Abby would have put up with how much of a brat you act?... Sorry Princess don’t think so” Ellie finished, clenching her jaw as she let out a heavy sigh.

“So this is what it’s about? Abby?” Your voice was harsh, as your body was also facing Ellie, this time the gap between the two of you was closing.

“Who— what the fuck? Who said this was [you did!] the fuck? I didn’t, [you literally said that!]  I mentioned Abby [which was months ago!]...shut up! and you got selfish [and you’re not?] Yeah actually!” the two of you were going back and forth this time. Talking over each other as your voices got louder and louder. Abruptly ending as Ellie reached out to grab your shoulders to get you to stop speaking.

“Get off!” You shouted. Tugging at Ellie’s hands – they only seemed to get tighter.

“Listen, I think…in some other shitty universe we truly could have gotten along with each other…you wouldn’t hate me and I wouldn’t hate you.” Ellie slipped, vulnerability spilling out of her mouth like water, that was the last straw.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Why do YOU hate me?” Ellie was silent at your question, but it gave you everything you need to know. You kissed your teeth, laughing to yourself as you shook your head in disappointment.

“Well I’m glad it isn’t this one” you responded. Your voice was like a smack to the face. Ellie’s hands fell limp at your shoulders, loosening their weight now giving you room to peel them off as you stood up from the couch. After a quick smooth-out to your skirt, and grabbing the black purse that was next to you, all Ellie could do was watch as your figure walked further and further away. 

As you opened the door, Sarah was now making her grand return, occupied by her cell phone but pulling you aside. From all Ellie could see, was your urgency to leave, Her fingers found their way to her lips rubbing them as she cursed under her breath. Sarah shifted her head to lock eyes with Ellie, Narrowing them. Making Ellie quickly turned into her seat sinking in the chair, bringing her hands up to shield her head. Ellie’s head was rushing – like a file cabinet with disorganized folders. Your absence was sealed with the slam of the door behind you, making Ellie exhale.

Sarah cleared her throat, anger deep in her voice, “Ellie what did you do?” 

Ellie exploded, “FUCK!” 

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

“Straighten your spine, chin up, relax the shoulders” 

This time, you were at your Grandmother’s Mansion It was almost impossible to relax when all you could think about was Ellie’s words to you prior. Her words played in your brain like a broken VCR, your body tensing at the thought of it. The hunch you had of the rebellious girl hating you plagued your thoughts, did she really mean that? Whilst you might have disliked the girl for her abrupt change in attitude you certainly didn’t hate Ellie. Your heart tore at the fact that she visibly felt the opposite.

“Princess, where is your head?...” your grandmother shouted with concern, you still couldn’t focus on your princess training lessons. Shrugging the book off of your head, used to control your posture, now choosing to place it in your lap as you sat next to your grandmother by the outdoor water fountain. 

“Dear, should we cut to tea time [No! Let’s keep going]…?”

“I don’t think I could do this” you exhaled, fiddling your fingers on top of the book. You didn’t wanna cut yourself short, but all you could do was hermit and hide yourself away. All for some petty argument. 

“Do what, dear?”

“This Princess…stuff – all respect! But I just don’t think it’s for me” you concluded, your words left a bitter taste in your mouth, putting your head down while you refused to look at your grandmother. You knew her face would be frowning, the wrinkles on her face exaggerating her apparent disappointment, displaying every bit of her age. Your hands started to grip your skirt, twisting and turning the fabric before finding a strand of thread, pulling the lining through as white web-like thread pooled in your hands.

“Okay…What’s wrong? Boy or Girl drama?” Your grandmother asked as if she was onto your behavior – She was reading you like a book. Her frail and boney hands reached over to grab at yours to stop you from pulling the threads of your skirt. You rubbed your gloss lips together, feeling the sticky substance provide you with mild comfort. 

“Do you think I’m hateable…Grandma?” You blurted out, voice small, barely coming out as a whisper, snaking your hand tightly to your grandma’s that was on top of yours. The older woman gave your hand a squeeze “Oh dear, that’s nonsense – you are wonderful! Slightly rough around the edges, but you are an amazing daughter, I’m sure you’ll make an excellent princess…an even better lover”

Your Grandmother gave you just the affirmation you needed, negative thoughts whisking away one by one. The elder abruptly stood up, fixing her tiara and pantsuit holding one arm out in front of you.

“Let’s walk, we have a lot to chat about” Her English accent was thick but she sounded elegant and proper. Great care and delicacy came with her voice. You followed her footsteps locking your arm with hers. The two of you walk through the courtyard, moving at a slow pace but perfect enough for the older woman to give you a lecture.

“The royal ball is this Saturday, followed by your induction ceremony on Sunday, I would like to know your decision” She discussed to which you let out a groan. The truth was you hadn’t made a decision yet, drowning yourself in academic work and the Ellie drama, it surely was the last of things you wanted to be focused on. 

“I–”

“I know what you’re thinking, your father was the same way too.” Your lips folded into each other at the mention of your father. You didn’t quite know the man, hell after his death your mother never mentioned him. Living with your mother in the refurbished firehouse, haunted by the pictures of him that felt like a pure imagination – Nothing other than a dream. No letter, no heirloom, nothing. But this certainly was something, right?

“You know Y/n you are just like him, even down to the looks – a spitting image of that man” Your grandma started, making you tilt your head at the analogy, “But what makes you different is your honesty, your father never knew what he wanted, except for the fact that he was adamant on trading royalty for a mundane type of love”

“He abandoned the throne?” You mumbled, looking away from your grandmother and facing the greenery in the garden. Tough conversations come at the time that you felt were improper. This was really not the conversation you were in the mood to have. Did she think you’d do the same?

The elder bit her tongue, “In simple terms, yes” A heavy sigh escaped your lips – not failing to go unnoticed by the older woman alongside you. “But I have a proposal for you…” Your grandmother began, this made your ears perk up, stopping her walk so you could hear her loud and clear. Perhaps if it wasn’t for the obnoxiously pollinated shrubs triggering your allergies, you could have heard her better.

“I think it would be great for you to find a date for the ball” Your eyes went wide almost like two tennis balls. There was no way that you would find one. Sarah had a date with some guy Saturday, and your other friend Dina had mumbled something about band practice. It just seemed near impossible. In full honesty, you’d rather be alone.

“Grandma, if I’m being honest…I don’t have anyone” You confess shyly, rubbing your hands at your temples and feeling the faint pulse come along. Certainly, Tylenol or a bandaid couldn’t fix the issue you were having.

“Your presence is still expected…I hope you think about it well, Princess”

If you thought you were dead, you certainly would have so wished now. The faint noise of whispered arguing filled your ears – muffled but with bass, while your head was tucked into a pillow. It almost sounded like bees gossiping in a hive. Noisy and irritant. All the noise seemed to stop when you let out a groan, twisting your body to face the white wall. Despite being in your sleepy state, the presence of warm bodies didn’t fail to interrupt the intimate moment you were having with your sheets. Your eyes fluttered open, blurry vision adjusting with a rub to the delicate skin around your eyes – body sitting up with vastness. Turning towards Sarah’s bed, your body jolted at the sight in front of you. Sarah sitting on her bed, staring at you with concern – Ellie to her left, looking at you with fear and sadness. Ellie was giving a pity look, and she never gave one of those. Something was wrong. 

“What’s wrong with you both? Why do you look like that?” You snapped, the silence was overbearing. Uncomfortable almost. Snatching the bonnet off of your head, which dropped the silky blown-out silk press you had gotten done yesterday. Reaching over to your desk to grab the pink hair brush to smooth out your hair. It is still silent – still,  from Sarah and Ellie’s end as they watched every movement you made, in fear almost. This was starting to frustrate you.

“Okay, seriously what’s up?” You grimaced, hopping off of your dorm bed to look at the alarm clock on your desk, seeing 9:45am flash repeatedly. The two were acting weird. Sarah gave Ellie a guilty glance, her lips parted as her blue orbs made their way back to you.

“Have you seen the news?” Sarah blurted out making Ellie tilt her head in irritation, “God Sarah shut up!” Ellie yelled, trying to silence the blonde next to her. Ellie gave you a nervous look, twirling the bracelet on her tattooed wrist. Clenching her jaw, Ellie now shielded her body away from you.

You squint your eyes at Sarah, “What news?” You question, “By the way, where the fuck is my phone? It’s literally nowhere to be found.”

Ellie dug her hand into her pocket pulling out your sleek phone covered in a pink protectant case – Why did Ellie have your phone? You speed walked over to the green-eyed girl, reaching to grab the device only making Ellie pull it higher from your reach.

 “Ellie seriously” You whined, Your body almost falling on top of Ellie’s as she tried to hide your phone away from your hands. The two of you almost dancing, You would reach with one hand, and Ellie would dodge it by moving in the opposite direction of your hand. Ellie threw your phone onto your bed, the device landing with a loud thud as her hands caught your waist before you could run off. Squirming underneath her touch, you couldn’t stay still until she dug her nails into your waist making you scream.

“Ow! Fuck you! E–”

“Tell her Sarah” Ellie was giving Sarah a pissed look as she held you tightly at the waist. Your eyes darted from Sarah to Ellie, back to Sarah once more, “Now!”

“--Someone leaked your secret – Everyone knows that you’re a P-Princess!” Sarah yelled out, pushing her phone in front of your face. Making you halt all movement in your body. The words that flew out of her mouth made you dizzy, a queasy feeling washing over your body as the urge to double over and chuck out yesterday’s dinner lingered. Your body tensed in Ellie’s hands as your back fell against her chest – Ellie holding you upright, rubbing circles at your waist. This was foreign. Ellie showing sympathy to you, it felt weird to have her hands on your body again after the roof-top incident. But you didn’t give yourself time to process it for long, “W-What?”

This time you snatched her phone from her hands,  looking at the articles in front of you. They were creepy photos, stalker-like almost. As if you had been watched for weeks. Photos of you on campus with Sarah, yearbook photos from high school, even you leaving your grandmother’s mansion. The titles were just as obnoxious. 

“ROYAL LIVES ON! FIRST SPOTTING OF GLENDALE’S NEW SOON-TO-BE PRINCESS!”

“BFF’S FOREVER? INSIDE SCOOP OF THE PRINCESS’S LIFE AT JNU”

“Nononono” You rambled, scrolling through each article that only seemed to be never-ending. Your face was attached to these articles. HD pictures at that. You were exposed to the world. Assed out. Everyone knew what you couldn’t even understand yourself. 

Your worst nightmare was coming true, and there was nothing you could do to stop it, especially with the Spring Festival happening today. It was the perfect recipe for disaster. Recalling Ellie’s hands at your waist, you shrugged the girl off in irritation as Ellie eyed your figure that was now pacing.

“This is bad! Like I’m screwed…Fuck Sarah, I’m so screwed” You ranted to your best friend, sadness turning to anger like a flip of a switch. “Hell, this article is wrong! I didn’t even say yes yet! It wasn’t my decision” You were on the verge of tears. 

“I didn’t choose the throne!” you cried out again, this time sitting on your bed holding your head in your hands. Your cat, Mittens, ran to Sarah’s lap, resting his head on Sarah’s leg while letting out slow purrs. 

“Sarah, Is she okay?” Ellie whispered, this time sincerity ran through her voice, as she looked at her sister this time, almost begging for directions on what to do. It wasn’t like Ellie to show that she cared, hell most would have thought she would have gained some satisfaction sentiment at the sight of seeing your world collapse, but it felt the opposite. Ellie felt guilty, sick to her stomach at the sight of your panic. Seeing your body rake in sobs, hands gripping at your sheets, tears like a never-ending river, “I don’t think so…I’ve never seen her act like this”

Sarah panicked, bringing her hand up to her mouth at the sight of your panic attack. She was sure if you weren’t stopped the dorm would have been absolutely demolished by the time you reached your cool down. It was true, crying was something you have never done in front of Sarah, hell not even your own mother. Your cool exterior was deteriorating, feeling your body suddenly lose control of itself, head spinning – nothing made sense anymore.

Sarah croaked, “Ellie…” making Ellie jump up from her position at the edge of Sarah’s bed rushing over to your figure. Ellie didn’t care if you were upset with her anymore, nor did the redhead care if you hated her. She didn’t want this for you. She wasn’t entirely an asshole.

Ellie did not care if you were going to fight her – potentially smack her for still being in your space, in this moment Ellie wanted to do something right, at least ease the fear that grew in your fiery heart. Ellie sat on your bed, applying her calloused fingers onto your shaky ones, giving a firm grip to your hand – detaching slightly as her hand trailed up your spine, moving your hair out from your face. Tingles exploded through your body at her sudden presence. 

“Can you look at me…please?” Ellie’s voice was gentle. Different from her raspy aggressive tone that she consistently gave you. Your head was still facing towards your lap, but Ellie’s voice was enough to drive you out of the dreamy haze you were in, each inhale you took could be heard loudly through the room. A hand shot up to your heart. 

“I can’t breathe…fuck– I can- I can’t” you whimpered making. Ellie squeeze her eye shut, cursing under her breath as she tapped herself back into the situation. 

“Sarah, can you give us a sec?” Ellie was almost begging her sister, Her hands rubbing circles in your back, while she looked across at Sarah’s nervous state. Sarah nodded, getting off of the bed to slide her slippers on her feet. Gently putting her key lanyard around her neck – Sarah headed for the door, closing it softly behind her. 

Ellie took the click of the door locks the opportunity to slide her hoodie off, leaving Ellie in a white tee. Recalling what she was learning in her anger management classes, something about controlling breaths and taking a step back to breathe – deciding now would be a good time to use the breathing exercises she learned. 

Ellie dipped her body weight towards yours, her cool bare skin touching yours that was slightly warm, Your hand was entangled around your heart, practically scratching the fabric that was your lace tank top. Ellie pulled your body into a full hug, which at first you resisted, but the thumping of your heart slowed with applied pressure. “Okay breathe in and out…slowly” Ellie instructed.

You followed her exact words. Head buried into her chest as you continued the breathing exercises, following the tone of her voice. “Good job, Angel, you’re doing such a great job, one more time for me” Ellie led the breathing exercises, as she inhaled implying for you to follow suit, which you did. Closing with a prolonged exhale.

Ellie pried your body away from hers. Not caring that your body was sticky from the pool of thick sweat that ran down your forehead. Ellie stopped to eye your face, which was in a calmer state than before but she could still see the jittering from your body.

“We are gonna try something, I know you’re not a fan of me…but I really need you to trust me, I’ll never let you down, nothing’s gonna hurt you while I’m here” Ellie muttered, she was pleading you. Her voice was wobbly as she did so. God, Ellie would never say it out loud, but she was concerned, and worried for you. The freckled face girl just wanted you to be at ease. “I want you to list 5 things you can see in this room”

You pointed at your cat on the floor “Uh…Mittens”

That’s one.

You winced before continuing to try to find objects to focus on.

“My Hairbrush”

That’s two.

“Your bracelet”

That’s three.

“The mole on your cheek…underneath your eye”

That’s four. 

“Come on baby, you’re doing so good for me…one more” Ellie praised, running her hand along your cheek.

“Your, eyes they–they’re a nice washy paled green”

Finally, five.

“Good job! Should we keep going?” Ellie was gentle – careful as if you were a piece of glass, but as much as you wanted to bicker with Ellie in front of you, you couldn’t find it in yourself to do so. But how close her body was to you and her ability to set your mind at ease was impressive. 

You shook your head no, feeling a lot calmer than you have prior. Feeling the faint mixture of cotton and satin from the comforter on your bed, the hand that was around your chest loosened up, and the air was becoming clearer. You were getting grounded, the blurry haze that was your vision vanishing.

“Can I say one more thing” Ellie spoke up amidst the silence, “...I still don’t like you” you grumbled in between breaths, pulling your hair out of your face and behind your ears. Your tender laugh rang Ellie’s ears, making her do the same –  Ellie rolled her eyes at your statement. Despite traveling through a panic attack you were the same old girl whose dislike didn’t seem to budge. 

“Yeah, yeah…no you don’t”

“‘cause you hat—”

“Not anymore…maybe a dislike?…I don’t know I just, I-I think I owe that much to you” Ellie snapped. The tone of the room shifted back to seriousness. Ellie was getting vulnerable, throwing in the white towel, this was the moment she was certainly sure she didn’t wanna drag her dislike towards you anymore. The more she thought about it, she really didn’t hate you at all. Ellie was unraveling the tuff knot she made of dislike that she had balled up for you, pealing each layer back like a tangerine. It was all a facade, as her therapist called it. Just a way for her to mask her emotions and put a wall up for anyone who came a little too close to stimulating emotions other than sadness or anger. It was her fear holding her back. Your name was certainly dropped in her anger management classes hearing the same words that would leave Sarah’s mouth. 

You don’t truly hate her, you love her but you’re too emotionally immature to deal with it.

You paused on the bed. Looking at Ellie in full this time, noticing that the girl next to you had discarded the hoodie she was wearing prior, and the conflicted scowl that rested on her face. That similar bitter look that you loved to give, yourself. Ellie was deep in thought, finding comfort in the silence that the two of you were sharing. 

You smacked your lips, 

“You know I have a ridiculous Royal Ball to go to – and no date?...my grandma was like bring somebody for comfort, and I…I realized I didn’t really have anyone, I mean of course I have Sarah and Dina but I’d go to my first ball with other royal people of the world and I’ll be entirely alone…God, I don’t know why I’m telling you this” you confess, almost laughing at the way the words were spilling out of your mouth.

 Ellie was attentive, listening to every word you said.

“You know you have me right…I know I didn’t do a good job of making it known before…sorry- this is really hard for me…” Ellie started, puffing out her cheeks to exhale large sums of air – letting the bubble formed by her cheeks deflate. Ellie rubbed her hands on her thighs, up – and down before giving her legs a final squeeze, 

“You look like you really need a friend right now, and I…I want to help you, of course your still fuckin’ annoying but let me help you…I don’t expect you to say yes, but…” Ellie cut herself short pausing to control her own breathing while you took this opportunity to speak.

“Ellie, I never thought in my entire 4 years of college that I would be asking you this, but what are the odds that you could be my fake date to the Ball?... It’s all pretend, you just have to act like you like me and we can go our separate ways” You reason, crossing your fingers as you dug them into the sheet to be hidden from Ellie’s field of vision. Ellie however caught the crossing of your fingers, darting her dilating pupils to her tattoo, rubbing a hand at the inked sinking into her skin.

“Can I wear a suit?” Ellie pondered, which brought a smile to your face. Ellie made you smile. “Wait…are you smiling at me?”

“No…I’m smiling at Mittens” you coughed, “behind you…”

“I’m just fucking with you…yeah I am”

“Well…stop fucking doing that you’re creeping me out!” Ellie whined, shrugging her body away from yours. Ellie didn’t wanna admit it but your smile was comforting. It made her want to give one back. Feeling her cheekbones stretch at the possibility of her chapped lips curling into a smile. It was foreign but for once Ellie didn’t feel entirely terrible for wanting to do it.

“Yes, Ellie you can wear a suit, even if you showed up in sweats I wouldn’t care…uh thank you for this!” you beamed with a twinkle in your eye. 

“Don’t mention it” Ellie sealed. Giving you a light nudge on the shoulder. There was more silence to fill the air. But the air wasn’t thick anymore, and it didn’t feel like you had to walk on eggshells around anyone – the cloudy sky that was a room when you and Ellie coexisted faded away into a bright sun with a rainbow. You were pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of knocking on the door. This made your heart thump in fear watching the way the slender beige wood bounced with each pound. 

“Guys! Uh… hate to ruin the moment but Spring Fest starts in 30 minutes and the band needs to warm up!” Sarah shouted from the other side of the door, making Ellie curse under her breath. Getting up from your bed as she ran to Sarah’s dresser to get her car keys. 

“See you Sun–”

“Saturday, Ellie…”

“Right, right see you Saturday, your highness” Ellie was panting, out of breath as she did a shitty bow before bolting to the door and meeting Sarah that was on the other side. As the door clicked closed you could hear the faint sound of Sarah and Ellie bickering – their voices fading away as they got further and further away from the door. Letting out a heavy sigh of relief. Ellie’s signature scent lingered as the room suddenly felt cold at the absence of bodies. 

Your body fell back bouncing against the mattress as Mittens crawled on top of a dark piece of fabric making you squint at the sudden dark material contrasting your pink sheets. It was Ellie’s sweater – shooing Mittens off of the sweater, you held the material in your hands, stroking the embroidery on the front. Pulling up the sweater to your nose where the scent of her cologne lingered, assisted with the faint tinge of dated tobacco.

Holding the fabric close to your chest, giving it a squeeze in your hands, as if you were giving it a hug. The smell helps to ease the come down from your panic attack, feelings of fear, and anxiety decaying. Ellie was helping you, in a lot of ways – and she didn’t even realize it.

 You hated how her scent was enough to ground you and connect you back to reality from your overwhelming thoughts. It felt like a big game of chess, Ellie knocking over your king piece and swapping it out for one of hers.

She was starting to conquer your thoughts, but no longer in a negative connotation, your thoughts of her were evolving into adulation.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

Saturday.

The mansion was busy this evening, servants and security moving fast while the decoration team had run through the two-story home being careful not to knock over the statues or fine-dining utensils. Meanwhile, you were sitting in your newly acclaimed bedroom, amidst the chaos. The room was previously your father's, remodeled for your benefit and appointing to the throne. 

Your delicate hands slid the thick short dress onto your body. It was pink and white, synching at the waist – corset style, with the ruffles and layers of white fabric peeking beneath. There was a slight sparkle to the material on your body – feeling it cling tightly as specks of glitter got onto your gleaming moisturized skin. The assistant that was hired to assist in getting you ready for the ball pulled at the strings of your corset, applying pressure to tighten them. 

With each pull back, your thoughts trailed off to Ellie – her suit, and what she would possibly wear tonight. You were undoubtedly nervous, having Royal officials meet you for the second time, which you hoped would go better than the first – but this time with the news out of everything about you. There was no more hiding who you truly were anymore. They would likely gossip about your GPA over a glass of prosecco. 

“Princess…Is everything alright?” the assistant questioned as she snapped her fingers in front of your face making you jolt at the release of pressure.

“yeah…I’m alright – sorry…just thinking” you reply sheepishly, turning around to give her a gentle smile. 

“Don’t apologize for thinking, it’s your first big day out of two! Plus you have prepared for this moment, and you have made great progress…Your grandmother is proud of you even though she doesn’t tell you, and I’m sure your father would be too”

You smiled at the mention of your Grandmother and her proudness, feeling complete at the abrupt praise. Recalling your father who you felt like you hardly knew but wish you did, building anything you know about him from pictures and stories.

“But I do…have something for you, which I feel is the right time for you to receive.” Your head whipped around almost giving you whiplash as the woman bent down to her folder picking out a white envelope that was sealed with pink wax. 

“This is from your father, it was set to be given to you on your coronation day, but I think you deserve it now…I’ll give you some privacy” holding the flimsy white envelope in your hand, eyeing the molded wax, as your fingers traced across the handwriting that belonged to your father. Hearing the door close, you quickly walked to your vanity, sitting down with your back straight up as you gently slide your finger between the thin paper, prying it open to pull out a letter. 

My little dove,

By the time you are reading this, I may be long gone, or you haven’t met me. Whether your mother chooses to tell you or not, I would like you to know that I love you and am so proud of the progress you have made that you feel goes unnoticed. If the cat is out of the bag, this would then mean that I am talking to y/n l/n metropolis vagn, Princess of Glendale, granddaughter of Elenor Metropolis Vagn, Queen of Glendale. It is a lot to take in, and I have left you with a big responsibility. Your decision will always be yours even if you feel that it is not. 

Weeks prior, leading up to my death I had an intense conversation with your grandmother about the future of the throne. Where it sounds like a curse, I pleaded and I wished that I wanted you to take my rightful place at the throne with my absence. To take my crown, to take my seat at the dinner table, I was giving you everything. I wanted you to have every last thing I owned that I couldn’t be there to give you myself. Royalty is a big thing, and at my age, when I was 17 when I met your mother, I knew that I would have not been in the best of care to run it for long. God when your mother said she was pregnant with you, I knew that she would make a sweet, headstrong but hot-headed child like the both of us. I put trust in you, just seeing the twinkle of your little doe eyes the first day out of the womb, I knew I was looking at the future Princess of Glendale.

I think that it would be wise of me to tell you the story of my first coronation day as Prince. I was late to every meeting, I totally failed at prince practice and balancing a book on my head to learn perfect posture, waved with the wrong hand – I couldn’t even tell my big spoon from my little spoon, or which fork I used first to eat. It was improper and your grandmother was honestly sick of it. I was late…extremely late to my coronation. I took your mother on a date to the gardens that day, We shared our first kiss and it was magical, more magical than the palace walls that I lived in now, it was a deep connection I will never forget. 

I took your mother to the ball, She wore pink to contrast my dark suit, but that didn’t matter. I think we complimented each other well, A pink rose corsage right above my handkerchief pocket oddly complimented too. I wore trainers to my first coronation – it was quite strange. My mother was actually sick of me. I naturally made conversation with the elders, and rulers of other places. But as soon as the crown was placed on my head, I left going with your mother to a drive-in movie while we ate messy cheeseburgers in our formal attire. It was such a sore soft moment, but at that moment I felt like I could have the best of both worlds, which I did – and I want you to know that you could have it too, I made sure of it. 

Now that this is in your possession, I want this to serve as a reminder that you are equally important. More important than some rubbish title that I rather you choose yourself 100 times over nobility. You choose where you would be the most comfortable. You are to be sweet and divine – but don’t let anyone dim your light or take your future and enjoyment away from you.

I hope this serves as a reminder of my love for you, and an appreciation for your progress, can you believe you have made it this far?

With love and acknowledgment,

Your father, Prince of Glendale, removed from the throne to stretch to his offspring.

P.S it’s okay to fall in love, live a little darling! 

Tears prickled your eyes, salted water falling down your face as you took a tissue off of the vanity being careful to dab the water to not ruin your makeup. A laugh escaped your lips, you weren’t crying of sadness you were happy. Genuinely happy.  In other ways, it felt as if your father had been giving you a hug and guiding you right along the way during your moments of doubt. You needed that. His encouragement gave you the extra boost to get you through the next two days, while you were not only battling public recognition but fully devoting yourself to the throne.

 Looking at yourself through the mirror, rolling your head, noting that it was time to fix your hair, which was currently in a half-up half-down look – placing the crystalized small tiara on your head. Sticking the note that Grandma left on the crown saying ‘just a warmup crown ;)’ on the cleaned glass. Your ringtone runs the air, answering swiftly to hear a raspy voice filling the air.

“Princess…I am outside the gate and there is some guy yelling at me that I have the wrong house” You groaned knowing she was definitely talking about Philip who was the same person who gave you a hard time the first time you visited the mansion. “First of all, don’t call me that…second I’ll be there hold tight”

“Hey! I’m—” you cut Ellie off by hanging up the phone with a swift click to the red button. You were nervous to see Ellie, the thought of what she could possibly be wearing stormed your thoughts, imagining a nicely fitting suit on her body, her hair free of any elastic. 

You slid on your pink kitten heals – it was time to put on your acting face. 

Right hand on the door knob, pausing to have a moment with yourself. You imagined that you were on a boat, the boat on sea rocking in the cold cerulean sea splashing its salty wakes against the curvature of the boat. Before a large tide comes in, waves crash — drowning out your boat. Slamming the door open, you pushed yourself forward dragging your body down the steps and being careful to not fall in your heels. 

Right foot…step…left foot…step until you reached the door. 

Waving with your right hand, proper, as your way of saying hello to the decoration team. 1 hour until guest arrival and you were feeling rancid. The morning tea in your veins pumps free adrenaline into you – giving you a slight pep in your step. 

Running in your heels, which was also, unprincess-like, you reached the gate yelling at Philip through the intercom to let Ellie in. Hearing the locks loosening up as the drawback on the door revealed Ellie, in all her glory. She actually showed up…for you. Ellie was wearing a black suit, her white button down peaking under that was slightly open at her chest. Chuck Taylor classics on her feet which made you laugh. Thinking back to your dad's letter about him wearing trainers to his coronation day. You found it funny – ironic almost but expected that Ellie wouldn’t own dress shoes. Your brain headed back to the words your dad has gracefully written.

She wore pink to contrast my dark suit, but that didn’t matter. I think we complimented eachother well

This time, it was your pink dress to contrast her dark suit, and to you, this didn’t matter either. You too thought you complimented each other. Ellie walked with confidence towards you, as she bowed – one hand folded at her stomach the other behind her back as she bend her body down at you, “Your Highness” 

Ellie was waiting for your approval. “God, Ellie…you’re such a kiss ass!” you snickered in amusement finding her figure bowed down before you. “You may stand now.”

“You do that again, I’ll make sure Philip drags you out of here” You finish making Ellie roll her eyes. Her gaze softened at the sight of you, eyes trailing from the tiara on your head down to your dress.

“You’ve looked worse” Ellie shrugged not wanting to fully give you the satisfaction of getting a compliment out of her. Ellie thought you looked stunning, a faint shade of red dusting over her cheeks, as she took in your outfit.

“Geez didn’t know you showered!” You hissed at the girl with a scoff, almost ruining the moment making Ellie throw a hand up in disbelief at your words. “There she is” Ellie sang as if she were expecting this to come out of your mouth any minute. 

You looked at the girl fully this time, her Converse were dirty — of course not that you cared, and her hair was loose from any free restraints. Now noticing the absence of the corsage pinned near her handkerchief pocket, you stumbled across the cigarette that was tucked neatly behind her ear. Mouth tip facing forward.

“No, absolutely not” Ellie was confused by your sudden protesting, trying to swat your hand away as you reached for the cigarette, chucking it into the water fountain next to the two of you. 

“Hey! That—”

“There will be no smoking on the mansion grounds! You hear me! Ellie, I’m so serious and I’m asking you just this once for a solid 5 hours not to” you pleaded. Normally you wouldn’t care but for an event like this with catty old rich people, you wanted to bypass the extra gossip. Ellie let in a dramatic inhale, looking around at the greenery of the yard the two of you were in. 

“Yeah...yeah sure I could do that” Ellie cleared her throat, and her hand was tucked in her pocket — the other at the nape of her neck flicking her hair, she rocked back and forth on her toes. 

“Thank you…” your voice was now at a whisper, Ellie’s eyes were beautiful next to the greenery of the garden, and you were almost enamored by how put together she looked. You didn’t expect her to pull through as well as she did, but you were glad she would at least be there to save you from driving yourself crazy in the mansion. 

You rubbed your glossed lips together, trying to find the right words to say at the moment. “If we are gonna do this, we have to do it the right way or else we totally jeopardize everything — poof! Princess had to hire a fake date, we don’t want that”

Ellie nodded in agreement. You stepped in closer, reaching into Ellie’s handkerchief pocket as you started to explain the rules, reaching for your own dress to detach the corsage that you pinned there on your way out. Taking the delicate rose and threading it slightly above the pocket on her suit. 

The two of your bodies were so close that Ellie could smell your floral and vanilla scent which contrasted with her salted musky wood, making her hitch her throat. The view of your eyes made her slightly antsy at the feeling of your body closer to hers. Instinctively Ellie didn’t know what to do with her hands, panicking as she rested them against the boning of the corset on your waist.

“You can kiss me, though I don’t advise it, hold my hand, walk straight, say excuse me before you end the conversation, no cursing…Stay close to me — it’s very easy to get lost and we don’t want that, no snarky comments, no smoking but you know that, smile” You were speaking fast, Ellie barely catching any of it as she was too busy investing her vision at your hands that were working magic around her suit, slightly doing two buttons for safety. 

“Anything else, Princess”

“Did you even catch any of that?” You question, the faint click of the corsage filling the space between the two of you. Ellie gave you a dopey smile, “Honestly, your tiara was crooked the whole time” 

It was Ellie’s turn to fix you up, slightly centering the tiara on your head with great delicacy, trailing her hands down your face and to your shoulders with an eyebrow raise. You groaned, ignoring the girl, dragging her hand to follow closely behind you. Ellie found part of it to be like a fairy tale dream. The shit that only happens in movies. From the overly large mansion to the obnoxious shrubbery and freshly kept grass it was hard to believe that your grandmother even lived nearby. 

“Don’t speak unless spoken to, and stop slouching you look like a hunchback” You whispered, this time grabbing Ellie’s hand in yours as the two of you walked side by side. Ellie felt a tingle shoot up at her arm at your sudden hand grab, shaking her head slightly to respond to your comment. “Never thought the day would come where you are not only checking my posture…but holding my hand as well, am I going mad?” 

You stopped walking to give her an exasperated look, “really? It’s business” The two of you kept walking, making your way to the dining area — almost reaching the corridor when your grandma stops in front of the two of you. She was giving you a stern look before looking over to Ellie. Flicking her eyes back and forth between the two of you. A faint smile as she looked between the two of you.

“You’re just like your father dear” The elder spoke up, putting her ringed finger up to her mouth in awe. “I know”

Elenor cleared her throat. “So who is your friend” Her field of vision shot to Ellie’s hand that was tightly gripped into yours. The two of your shoulders touching — almost scared shitless.

“Uh, Grandma, this is my girlfriend, Ellie Williams, Ellie this is my Grandma, Elenor the Queen of Glendale” You spoke up gesturing the two to each other, Nudging Ellie with your arm queuing for her to speak. 

“H-h..It’s a pleasure to meet you” Ellie coughed, “Ma’am” Ellie replicated the bow that she had shown you early, this time getting up quicker. Your hand suddenly felt clammy. Realizing that the moisture was not from your hand but from Ellie’s, who had been drowning in anxiousness next to you. So you squeezed it, giving the girl a soft look of reassurance.

“Oh please, you don’t have to bow Ellie! It’s so wonderful to meet you — aren’t you adorable” Your grandma reached over to squeeze Ellie’s cheeks making them a lot redder than they were before.

You winced at the interaction “Grandma…please” you used your free hand to swat hers away, continuing to look around the room to find an escape out. “We actually are going to go to the garden for a bit, have Philip come to fetch us when the guest arrives” 

Giving the woman a faint smile, you drag Ellie away, the redhead trailing behind you like a lost puppy. “Nice meeting you!” Ellie shouted making you shake your head at her outburst.

“And another rule…no yelling” You snapped, walking up to one of the servant trays to steal two glasses of champagne, handing Ellie a glass. The two of you exited through the backyard of the mansion, walking alongside the cobblestone into the garden. It was filled with different kinds of flowers: roses, chrysanthemums, orchids, and hydrangeas. It was a vibrant sight. Enough to make your eyes hurt as the sun was setting. 

Sitting next to the fountain, Ellie doing the same but across from you, you closed your eyes amidst the silence, letting the faint sound of the birds chirping guide you – picking up conversation again.

“Welcome to my world” you sang sarcastically, Ellie didn’t bother to heckle you – rather she took this time to see how many differences the two of you had. Ellie was a troublemaker since she was very young…known for picking fights and consistently butting heads with people. The day Joel brought home an anger management class pamphlet Ellie wanted to scream. It’s not that she didn’t think she had issues but she just couldn’t manage her anger properly – mad at the world consistently and it won’t leave her mind like an exposed wound. So Ellie tried one and tried another – realizing she actually needed to communicate what she was feeling if she wanted to be better. 

Then Ellie thought of you, certainly too good for her, a pretty girl academically smart and soothing in her eyes. That night at the rooftop didn’t make sense to Ellie, it didn’t make sense to her that a girl like you, could like a girl like her. 

“Got a cigarette?”

Ellie snickered “Oh now you want one, I got none for you, I don’t give cigarettes to princesses” Ellie dug into her chest pocket digging inside the fabric to bring out the familiar black lighter and her handy pack of Marlboro reds. Taking out a piece, but your request prior to the ball event made her stop to look at you for approval. “You can have one…go on, smoke it! This is more stressful than I thought”

Ellie shrugged at your response, setting a flame to the burning tobacco, exhaling with ease. You went steady with the champagne, taking a few sips – then larger gulps almost matching the way Ellie was swallowing the cigarette whole.

“Why do you do it?” you questioned. Rotating the liquids in the glass. “Do what?” 

“Smoke” your voice was barely a whisper. Ellie blew out the smoke away from your face – as always before tapping some of the ash away, bringing a hand up to scratch her cheek to really think about what she wanted to tell you. Ellie was going to throw in the white towel again.

“Helps me, uh fixate on something other than the emotion I feel, became like a stabilizer – oral fixation typa shit”

Ellie was honest with you, which you could tell from the tone of her voice, it was serious and she was being transparent. “Oh…” 

You were preparing to bring the champagne glass up to your lips again when Ellie stopped you, snatching the glass from your hand, tossing the leftover liquid onto the floor, “No more for you…Don’t want our Princess drunk now do we”

You rolled your eyes, “It was keeping my body warm” Ellie gave you a side-eye as she began to unbutton her suit jacket, cursing under her breath as she slid the black jacket off of her arms, raising an eyebrow before throwing it at your face “Ow!”

“You’re welcome” This time you didn’t respond, putting the jacket on while putting your arms through the sleeves. Cold arms feel warmer by the feeling of the fabric around you like a blanket. Similar to yesterday morning when Ellie had left her sweater at your dorm. 

“Can we…um” You rubbed your hands together, before locking them together “Can we talk about the night at the rooftop?” Ellie felt her heart sink, putting the cigarette up to her mouth one last time – tapping out the stick to stand up and move closer to where you sat on the brick exterior of the fountain.

“I think I owe that to you..”

You hummed, allowing Ellie to move in close to you, her knee was knocking against your own, as you looked at the girl with such love and admiration despite knowing the hefty conversation that was on the way. Ellie put a hand out to reach for your own, resting her hand in your lap. Webbed through your fingers.

“If I’m being honest…After it happened and my resentment started, I thought about you every night since, I…I think I truly was incapable of being honest with myself and kinda ripping the bandaid off to know that I could be liked. I enjoyed the kiss, do I regret it? Hell fucking no” Ellie began, taking the moment to laugh, “My arguing was a by-product of my flight or fight response absolutely going bonkers at the possibility that Abby could have you or you would reject m–”

“Why would I reject you?”

Ellie blinked rapidly “Sorry…What?”

“I like you! Are you joking, ever since you shook my hand I knew that you were different. But then once the kiss was over, you basically didn’t want anything to do with me, I thought, I made you up in my head” You stroked Ellie’s hand in your lap for comfort, this time Ellie letting go to squeeze your thigh. “The way I imagined you to act was just a result of what I made you to be in my head” You ramble making Ellie nod her head almost ashamed at the way she treated you months prior after the situation dissolved. 

“God I was such an asshole” Ellie winced looking away from you, applying faint pressure to your thigh 

“If you were one then so was I…”

“Did you mean to say ‘I like you’ in the present tense?” Ellie blurted out, eyeing your facial expressions to see if she caught what you were saying right – or if it was a mistake on your part. 

“I did say that didn’t I…” You mumbled, bringing a hand up to your mouth as if you were scrambling to organize your thoughts to prevent yourself from saying anything embarrassing or exposing yourself even further. Ellie’s gaze softened, 

“It’s okay if you did” Ellie whispered, lifting a hand to rub at your cheek. The two of you look at each other longingly. You didn’t say anything further – feeling your body lean into Ellie’s until her lips were directly onto yours, closing all gaps between the two of you. Her peppermint moisturized lips locked with your own, feeling Ellie’s hands shoot up to your face for extra support. The kiss was long, the two of you not being to detach from each other, the kiss was a hungry one. Ellie’s tongue grazed yours as the kiss got deeper…and deeper. A splash of the water from the fountain made the two of you abruptly pull away, shaky breathes as the two of you stared at each other for a prolonged period of time, there was no more hatred left in Ellie’s eyes and you knew she didn’t feel the instant regret like she felt the night of the roof-top.

“You gonna tell me to not tell anyone” you whisper to Ellie, giving a slight nudge at what happened the last time the two of you shared a kiss

“I’ve learned my lesson…I’m not hiding you” Ellie spoke softly, bringing a hand up to stroke your cheek. The soft moment between the two of you is ruined by the clear of the throat, to reveal Philip in all black standing in front of the two of you. The two of you jumped away from each other as you looked at the ground embarrassed.

“Now that the two of you have stopped macking, the Queen has requested your return there are some people she would like you to meet” Philip states bluntly, turning on his heel to walk away from the two of you. Ellie and yourself give each other a glance before letting out a fit of laughs at the awkwardness of the situation. Ellie stands up, putting a hand out for you to grab allowing her hand to help you stand up. 

With Your hand around Ellie’s everything suddenly felt like it was moving into place, no more need to stress or panic – it felt natural. As the two of you walked through the garden you thought about your dad's letter in admiration, you wanted the best of both worlds and you sure as hell got it.

“Hey, Ellie?” you whispered as Ellie only hummed in response.

“Wanna leave early after this and grab some food?” 

[theetherealbloom]

NOTRE DAME - CH. 7

Chapter 7: Heaven Help Me, I Need To Make It Right

Summary: In the rafters of Clinton Church, a mysterious reader with the power of illusion manipulation silently watches over Matt Murdock, the blind vigilante known as Daredevil. As danger engulfs Hell's Kitchen, their unlikely friendship blossoms into a bond of trust and longing, intertwining their fates in a battle against darkness that tests their resolve. Will their connection illuminate a path to salvation in a city of darkness or lead them deeper into the abyss?

Paring: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt to Comfort, ANGST, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, Religion, Fluff, Anxiety, PSTD, Nightmares, Catholic Guilt, Amnesia, Violence, Blood, Dark Undertones, Eventual SMUT, Shy Reader, Mentions of Abuse, Criminal Activities, Mobsters/Mafia, Character Death, Slowish Burn, Disassociation, 

Word Count: 11.8k

A/N: Hrmmmm… there are days where I feel like no one is reading this fic so sometimes I lack the motivation to finish it. Then I have to remind myself that I also write for myself because I’m that delusional, lmao. But to the anon that asks for updates for Notre Dame, thank you; it tells me at least one person is reading this– so this chapter is for you. Lastly, thank you to @bellaxgiornata for constantly listening to me ramble in her ask box about Matt. You are the best, love you loads and you mean a lot to me friend. <3

Song: No Light, No Light by Florence + the Machine

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KAREN’S APARTMENT – EARLY MORNING

After stopping by Josie's bar and inquiring with Josie herself about Karen's whereabouts, she mentioned having a conversation with Foggy. However, she seemed visibly distressed just before leaving. Calling for a cab, you reached your current location as the sun was beginning to rise. The lack of sleep weighed on you, but knocking at Karen's door, you couldn't contain your restless anticipation.

"Karen? Karen, are you there?" No response. Gritting your teeth, you unleash a surge of energy through your palms, using your enhanced senses to unlock the door with the doorknob.

"Karen?" Your voice echoes through the quiet apartment as you enter, scanning for any signs of distress. Your eyes land on the bedside table, where an empty alcohol bottle rests, sending a pang of concern through you.

Suddenly, Karen gasps awake, her breaths ragged as she jerks upright. Her eyes widen in panic as she sees you standing there, tears glistening. "Hey, hey, it's just me," you reassure her, stepping closer. "Karen, what's wrong?”

"How did you get in my apartment?" Karen asks, her voice shaky, still catching her breath.

"I might have, um, picked the lock... only because you weren't answering your phone," you somewhat omit the truth, your tone gentle. "I got worried and came to check on you. What... happened?"

You settle on the foot of her bed, the darkness of her room enveloping you both as your eyes adjust. It's then that you notice the puffiness and redness of her eyes, evidence of tears shed throughout the night.

"I..." Karen begins, her voice trembling, her words choked with emotion. She struggles to speak, her mouth opening and closing as she fights back tears.

You watch her struggle, sensing her pain, and without a word, you open your arms and pull her into a tight embrace. She collapses into you, her sobs shaking her body as she clings to you for support.

At that moment, a heavy feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. You can't shake the sense that the damage has already been done, and you fear that you may have arrived a little too late.

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MOMENTS LATER…

Karen decides to head to the office, and as she gathers her things, she turns to you with a hopeful look. "Could you walk with me?" she asks, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

You nod without hesitation, understanding her need for companionship during this difficult time. As you walk together, the weight of the previous night's events hangs heavy in the air.

"What happened last night?" you inquire gently, breaking the silence.

Karen takes a deep breath, her expression troubled. "I found Foggy at Josie's bar," she begins, her voice strained. "He was drunk, and things got heated between us. It's all just a mess..."

Suddenly, a noise from around the corner startles both of you, and you instinctively turn towards the source. Finding nothing, you try to lighten the mood. "Must've been a rat. Did you know rats have gangs in different parts of New York?"

To your relief, Karen laughs, the tension momentarily easing. "Rat gangs? Just what we need on top of Fisk," she quips, a hint of humor in her voice.

You meet her gaze, a sense of determination in your eyes. "We'll get him, Karen. He'll pay for his crimes," you assure her, offering a reassuring smile.

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NELSON & MURDOCK ATTORNEY’S AT LAW, OFFICE – EARLY MORNING

Karen opens the office door and steps inside, her movements slow and subdued. You follow behind her, gently shutting the door behind you. As Karen moves to put away her bag and belongings, you head to the small pantry area to start the coffee maker, the familiar hum providing comforting background noise.

From the corner of your eye, you see Karen stand up from her seat and take a few steps, her silhouette outlined against the window. You can sense her distress, bits of emotions you can pick up because of your powers, the previous night's stress persists deeply on her shoulders. You resist the urge to pry, knowing that she may not be ready to share the full extent of what happened.

As the floor creaks underfoot, both you and Karen startle, turning to find Foggy standing there in the middle of the room. Karen gasps in shock, her hand instinctively clutching at her chest.

"Jesus," she exclaims, her voice laced with surprise.

Foggy speaks up in a soft voice, attempting to reassure Karen, "It's okay, it's just me… the dick."

Karen's heartbeat gradually slows as she tries to compose herself. "What are you doing here?" she asks, her voice still tinged with uncertainty.

Foggy shrugs casually, his demeanor relaxed. "Last I checked, it was my office."

"Yeah, yours and Matt's. Is that why you're creeping around so late, to avoid him?" Karen probes, her curiosity evident.

Foggy shoots a quick glance in your direction before responding to Karen, "Okay, first, there was no creep. You were just too… whatever you were, looking out the window to realize I stepped out of my office."

There's a brief pause as Foggy regards Karen skeptically. "And have you been hitting the juice? Because you kind of smell like a distillery."

Karen moves over to you by the pantry, and you offer her a cup of coffee. She accepts it gratefully before retorting, "You're one to talk. I found you practically curled up under the bar at Josie's."

"Fair enough," Foggy says with a sigh, his tone tinged with resignation. He then presses on, curiosity evident in his voice. "But that was the end of my night. What happened to you after that?"

Karen avoids meeting Foggy's gaze as she takes a sip of her coffee. You observe her closely, sensing her discomfort as she responds with a lie, "Nothing."

Foggy narrows his eyes slightly, not fully convinced. "That 'nothing' include drinking and dancing? Or just the drinking?" he questions, his tone gentle but probing. 

Karen lets out a weak laugh, a hint of bitterness in her voice. "Funny, you actually sound like you care."

You take a long drag of your own coffee, the warmth spreading through you as you listen to Foggy's attempt at explanation. "Karen, what's going on with me and Matt… it sucks that it's bleeding over to you. It's the last thing I'd ever want to happen," he says, his tone sincere.

Karen nods in understanding, her eyes reflecting the weariness of the night before. "I know. Sorry, just, I, uh… Just had a... a rough night," she admits, her voice soft.

She moves to sit down on the chair by her desk, and Foggy attempts to lighten the mood. "You and I should not drink," he quips, a hint of humor in his voice.

Karen lets out a weak scoff, the weight of the situation still heavy on her shoulders. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm thinking about giving it up, moving on to the hard stuff," she replies, her tone tinged with sarcasm.

You snort softly as you join Foggy by the pantry. "Narcotics? Deal me in," he jests, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You raise your eyebrows skeptically. "You don't seem like the type," you remark, a hint of amusement in your voice.

Foggy shrugs nonchalantly. "Yeah, I smoked a doobie once. Made me drool," he confesses, a lighthearted grin on his face.

Karen frowns in confusion, prompting Foggy to clarify. "A doobie. Weed, pot, the Mary Jane. Whatever the kids are calling it these days."

“I'm not sure that's, uh, considered hard anymore. At least, not according to Denver, anyway,” Karen remarks, a small smile playing at her lips.

You nod in agreement as you shift your weight, sensing the underlying tension in the air. Foggy shrugs again, a wistful expression crossing his face. “The times they are a-changin',” he muses, unaware of the impact of his words.

You watch Karen’s expression falter slightly, her gaze distant, and your heart aches at the weight of the unspoken implications hanging in the air.

“Yeah,” Karen says softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

“Yeah,” Foggy echoes, his tone equally subdued.

“So, you coming back to the office?” Karen asks, attempting to break the tension that had settled between them.

Foggy’s demeanor shifts, his shoulders tensing slightly. “I just needed to pick up a few things,” he replies, his voice strained.

He moves to his office, hastily stuffing a pile of papers into his suitcase, while Karen follows closely behind, her concern evident in her expression.

“Wait, Foggy,” Karen says, reaching out to touch his arm gently.

“Let's not do this right now. It's not a good time,” Foggy responds, avoiding eye contact with both you and Karen.

“Is it ever gonna be?” Karen presses, her voice tinged with frustration.

Foggy sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he admits, his tone weary.

“That's not really an answer,” Karen points out, her brows furrowing in concern.

“It's the best one I've got,” Foggy replies with a resigned shake of his head.

“Whatever's going on between you and Matt, it would be really nice not to be alone here, you know?” Karen says softly, her voice filled with longing for solidarity.

“I know. What you said last night, you were right,” Foggy concedes, his expression serious. “No matter what's going on between me and Matt… that doesn't change anything with Fisk. I'm gonna keep digging. You can't just run around killing people and call yourself a human being. He's gonna pay for what he's done, just like you said.”

Foggy swallows audibly, a visible tension in his demeanor as he asks, “Do we still have a copy of all that stuff Ben gave us, from the… the man in the mask?”

Karen nods, her expression curious. “Yeah, uh, I think so. What are you gonna do with it?” She retrieves the file from a cabinet drawer and hands it over to Foggy, who accepts it with a thoughtful frown. 

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Foggy admits, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

“So, you, uh... you don't think the Mask is a terrorist anymore?” Karen inquires, her gaze shifting between Foggy and you.

Foggy hesitates, searching for the right words. “I don't understand what he is. But no, I don't think he's a terrorist.”

“It's a start, I guess,” you interject, noticing your nervous habit of scratching your arm resurfacing. It's a telltale sign of your anxiety, especially in moments of stress.

"Look, I know things are... weird," Foggy begins, his voice laced with sincerity. "But I'm still around. You need me, just call."

You nod along with Karen, acknowledging Foggy's reassurances. "You gonna pick up this time?" Karen asks, her tone laced with concern.

Foggy nods confidently. "Yeah, I'll pick up. Might not seem like it, but everything's gonna be all right."

Karen gives him a skeptical look. "How can you be sure?"

"Because I have to be," Foggy responds with determination. You offer him a supportive smile as he heads towards the exit. "Ease off the booze, stay away from the Mary Jane," he advises Karen with a hint of humor.

Karen nods in agreement. "Will do."

As Foggy opens the door, he comes face to face with Matt standing outside. Tension fills the air, palpable and thick. You hold your breath, observing the silent exchange between the two. Foggy walks past Matt without saying anything, indicating that the dispute has not yet been fully resolved.

As Matt steps into the office, Karen remarks, "Well, that wasn't awkward."

"What are you both doing here so late?" Matt inquires, setting his cane against the wall. "Or early or whatever it is?"

"Um..." Karen hesitates, seeking assistance from you. You reply, "Couldn’t sleep."

"Lot of that going around," Matt sighs. Karen adds with a hint of sadness, "Seems like it's the only thing we still all have in common."

Matt moves towards his office entrance, expressing, "I'm sorry, Karen."

"For which part?" Karen questions. Matt pauses near the doorway, contemplating. "All of it, pretty much."

"You want coffee? I just made some," you offer. Matt nods gratefully, "Yeah, please."

As you prepare the coffee, Karen follows you inside, discussing, "You know, he thinks he got her killed… Elena."

Your heart sinks at the mention of Elena. Matt refutes, "He didn't."

"You wanna try telling him that?" Karen retorts sarcastically, then adds, "Oh, right, that... that would be if you two were still speaking to each other."

Matt shrugs, "It's his choice."

"Only if you let it be," you interject.

Karen turns to leave, stating, "You know, I'm starting to feel like I made a mistake... coming to work here."

"Do you want to leave?" Matt questions, his tone firm.

"No," Karen responds promptly, continuing, "This is my home. You and Foggy, you're the only good things in my life right now."

"Karen, did something happen?" Matt presses.

"Yes," Karen replies, and you and Matt wait for her to elaborate. "The world fell apart. Didn't you notice?"

Karen walks away, retreating to her desk to bury herself in her work. You stand there, observing Matt as he processes her words, his jaw clenched in frustration. Sensing the tension, you clear your throat and take a step back, intending to leave. "I should probably..."

"Wait,” Matt's sudden request freezes you in place. You watch as he licks his bottom lip nervously, his hands resting on his hips.

“You okay?” Matt's voice carries a hint of concern, and you know he's attuned to every nuance of your response.

You stand there, wide-eyed, before blinking a few times and clearing your throat. “I’m fine. Just tired… I’ll see you around, Matt.”

Matt nods in acknowledgment, but as you turn to leave, you're overcome by a surge of concern. You stop in your tracks and turn back to face him.

“Hey, Matt,” you say softly, catching his attention. He looks up, meeting the sound of your voice with a curious expression.

"Just… be careful. Please," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper. Matt swallows visibly, his expression serious as he nods in response.

You turn away, the sound of your fading heartbeat mingling with the distant noise of the city streets.

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177A BLEECKER STREET, GREENWICH VILLAGE

NEW YORK SANCTUM – AFTERNOON

After a quick shower back at Clinton Church, and managing to grab a bite to eat, you rushed out the doors and back onto the bustling streets of New York City. With a wave, you hailed a passing cab and gave the driver the address: 177A Bleecker Street in Greenwich Village. You needed to visit the sanctum.

Arriving at your destination, you stepped out of the cab and onto the sidewalk, feeling a pang of reluctance as you gazed up at the building before you. With a deep breath, you climbed the steps and rapped your knuckles against the wooden door, waiting patiently for it to swing open.

After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing Wong on the other side. He regarded you with a cautious expression but stepped aside to allow you entry into the Sanctum.

You stuff your hands into the pockets of your coat, taking in the familiar sights of the Sanctum. Wong joins you, standing by your side. "Just the same as when you left," he remarks.

You offer a small hum of agreement. "Smells the same too. Looks like you guys haven’t dusted in a while," you quip.

Wong places his hands on your shoulders, his gaze steady. "We missed you," he says sincerely.

You exhale, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders, and give his wrist a grateful squeeze. "Thanks, Wong."

The Ancient One's voice echoes through the room from the top of the grand staircase. "Certainly didn’t expect you to be here so soon. Would you like some tea?" Wong steps aside as you shake your head. "I think you might already know why I’m here. And it’s not for tea."

The Ancient One smiles warmly as she turns, her cloak flowing behind her, and opens a golden-rimmed portal with her sling ring. Without hesitation, she steps through, and you follow closely behind, your heart pounding with anticipation.

As you emerge on the other side, the portal seals shut behind you. The Ancient One exchanges a few words with the librarian before he departs, leaving the two of you alone in the vast expanse of the Kamar-Taj Library.

“So, tell me what’s happened,” the Ancient One prompts, her voice echoing softly in the quiet space. You begin to pace around the room, the weight of your worries heavy on your shoulders.

“I’ve been using my powers for longer periods lately,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “And during those times, my friend got injured. Badly injured. I managed to heal him with my magic. But…”

“That’s why you’ve come here,” the Ancient One finishes for you, her eyes penetrating as she turns to face you directly. You meet her gaze, nodding in confirmation. “You’re here to learn a more advanced healing spell.”

You swallow hard, feeling a mix of determination and uncertainty. “Just in case I need to save him again,” you murmur.

The Ancient One's wise eyes scan your face, a hint of concern creasing her brow. "But who will save you?" she asks, her voice tinged with worry.

You offer a nonchalant shrug, trying to downplay any concerns. "I'm fine," you insist, though the unease lingers in your mind.

Her frown deepens as she studies you further. "I feel your life force fading," she declares, her tone solemn.

You shake your head, dismissing her observation. "It's not about me, it never was," you assert, determined to keep the focus on Matt.

The Ancient One's expression softens, understanding dawning in her eyes. With a sigh, she relents, her gaze turning inward as she contemplates the situation. "I suppose I could teach you," she finally concedes, her voice laced with a mixture of resolve and compassion.

A sense of relief washes over you, accompanied by a grateful smile. "Thank you," you whisper, a glimmer of hope sparking within you.

The Ancient One clasps her hands together, a sense of purpose emanating from her. "Let's begin," she declares, leading the way with unwavering determination.

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A DAY LATER…

KAMAR-TAJ, NEPAL — AFTERNOON

You let out a weary sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in your bones. The day had been long and arduous, filled with training sessions and lessons from the Ancient One and Wong. Despite their guidance, you still felt overwhelmed by the magnitude of the tasks before you.

You felt a buzz in your pocket, and with a quick glance at your phone, you saw Matt's name flashing on the screen. Without hesitation, you answered the call. "Hey, everything okay? Karen texted me wondering if I heard from you and if you were coming into the office today."

“I had a rough morning. I'm gonna need the day," Matt's voice came through, slightly strained. Sensing there was more, you waited for him to continue. "Listen… I'm working on something. I think it might help. But until I know for sure, I need you to stay out of it. If you talk to Karen and Foggy, you tell them the same?”

Your frown deepened, but you nodded, even though he couldn't see you. "Uh, yeah, I'll pass it along…"

There was a pause, and then Matt spoke your name softly. "Yeah?"

“Everything's gonna work out... I promise,” he assured you, and you let out a hesitant noise. "Mhm. I trust you."

“See you tomorrow,” Matt said before ending the call. As you looked up from your phone, your eyes caught the serene landscape of Kamar-Taj, with students training diligently amidst the tranquil surroundings. 

Approaching the Ancient One, you found her standing by the edge of the mountain, her presence calming yet authoritative. “I assume you are needed,” she remarked.

You nodded, a sigh escaping your lips. "I just got off the phone with Matt. He’s most likely going to do something incredibly reckless again.”

The Ancient One turned to you, her expression grave. “You must be careful. I fear there are more dangers up ahead the path you are on.”

You nodded solemnly and turned back to face the temple, using the sling ring to call out a portal. You give the Ancient One one more look before passing through, a quiet tribute to her knowledge and direction. Subsequently, you entered the glimmering golden portal bearing a heavy heart, prepared to take on whatever obstacles that lied ahead.

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MADAME GAO’S WAREHOUSE

HELL’S KITCHEN, NEW YORK – EVENING

Your senses heightened as you tracked Matt's movements, casting a discreet spell to locate him. Following the mystical trail of orbs, you found yourself outside a desolate warehouse. With a surge of energy, you cloaked yourself in invisibility and pulled the hood of your cape over your face as you perched atop a nearby rooftop.

Below, the scene unfolded like a choreographed dance of shadows. Matt, clad in his signature black suit, swiftly incapacitated two guards stationed by the door. As a third guard approached, unsuspecting, Matt swiftly subdued him as well, his movements a blur of precision and skill.

Silent as the night, you slipped through the door Matt had just entered. Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of illicit substances. From the shadows, you observed as Matt swiftly incapacitated two guards, their bodies slumping to the ground unnoticed by the workers blind and busy with their illicit trade.

As you move into the light, still cloaked with your powers you take in your surroundings, observing every detail, noticing that the workers have scars around their eyes. Matt has made his way to stand behind you as he also uses his heightened senses to understand what was happening.

And in the moment of your disbelief, you hear someone shouting Mandarin from above, an old woman, and before you knew it they began swarming Matt. As they all clamored and Matt saying, “No, wait, wait, wait! I'm trying to help you! Wait, no, please!”

Caught in the midst of the bustling factory floor, you managed to reach Matt's side and quickly enveloped him in an invisible cloak with your powers, guiding him away from the workers' watchful eyes. Together, you sought refuge behind a towering stack of wooden crates, the air thick with tension and adrenaline.

As you both regained your breath, Matt's voice cut through the silence. "It's you."

Your response was swift, shrouded in the illusion of a disguised voice. "We need to stay focused."

With a swift nod of understanding, Matt sprung into action, leaping onto a nearby crate with a readiness that mirrored his relentless determination. As an elderly woman, flanked by armed guards, approached, Matt swiftly subdued one while you deftly handled the other. With a touch of your hand, you unleashed illusions of his deepest fears, triggering chaos as he recklessly fired his gun at a tub of ethyl alcohol, igniting it into a blazing inferno, before rendering him unconscious with a swift strike.

As the flames danced around you, you and Matt materialized before the elderly woman, confronting her about her nefarious deeds. Matt's voice was stern as he questioned her about the innocent lives affected by her actions.

“All those people... You took their eyes,” he accuses.

“They blinded themselves,” she counters confidently, her tone unwavering.

Matt presses further, “Why would they do that?”

“Because they have faith,” she replies, her conviction unshakeable.

"In you and your drugs?" you interject, seeking clarification.

The woman fixes you with a piercing gaze, asserting, "In something beyond the distractions of your world. You two have taken that from them. Now, they will have nothing."

As Matt advances towards her, demanding information about Fisk, she delivers a powerful blow, sending him crashing into you, both of you tumbling to the ground with a heavy impact.

With a groan, you push yourselves off the floor, only to find the woman vanished, leaving behind a scene of chaos and confusion among the workers.

Matt takes charge, swiftly firing the guard's rifle and aiming it at the water pipes above the warehouse. As the water trickles down, he lets out a determined grunt, he orders the man, "Get these people out of here."

The workers scramble to evacuate the warehouse, their frantic movements illuminated by the raging flames that engulf the building. Amidst the chaos, you and Matt slip away unnoticed, making your way to a nearby rooftop.

As the wails of approaching sirens pierced the night, signaling the arrival of first responders, you exchanged a glance with Matt. Without a word, you both leaped down from the rooftop, only to be confronted by the commanding voice of Brett Mahoney.

"Police! Don't you move! Hands, let me see your hands! Hands!" Mahoney shouted, his voice filled with authority.

With cautious movements, you and Matt raised your hands in surrender as Mahoney cautiously approached.

"Slowly, slowly," he commanded, closing in on the two of you.

Under the cover of your hood, you watched as recognition flickered across Mahoney's face as he focused on Matt.

"You're the guy. The one that killed Blake and shot those cops!" Mahoney accused.

In a swift move, Matt disarmed Mahoney, his actions precise and controlled. You stood to the side, allowing Matt to handle the situation.

"I did not kill Detective Blake, or shoot those cops. Blake and Hoffman were dirty. Working for Wilson Fisk. Along with a lot of others in your precinct. I'm not the bad guy. We are not the bad guys," Matt explained, his voice firm and resolute.

"Then what are you?" Mahoney questioned, but before either of you could respond, the distant sound of sirens reached your ears. In a blink, Matt vanished into the shadows, leaving Mahoney bewildered.

Taking advantage of the distraction, you cloaked yourself in illusion once more, blending seamlessly into the darkness as you darted into the streets, away from the encroaching sirens.

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CLINTON CHURCH – DAYLIGHT

"You haven’t been sleeping much," Father Lantom observed, causing you to pause your movements and turn from the pew you were wiping down. With a sigh, you replied, "Yeah."

"Nightmares again?" Father Lantom inquired, concern evident in his voice.

"Something like that," you explained, your tone resigned.

"Dear, you might want to go see someone for it," Father Lantom suggested gently.

"I'll be fine," you insisted, shaking your head. But before Father Lantom could argue further, the sound of a tapping cane echoed through the church, drawing both your attention.

Surprised, you and Father Lantom turned to see Matt walking down the aisle. He softly uttered your name, prompting Father Lantom to pat your shoulder as he grabbed the rag in your hands and left to give you two some privacy.

"Matt, hey," you said, walking down to meet him in the middle of the aisle. You noticed the visible tremble in his lip and knew he was on the verge of breaking down. Quickly, you guided him to the garden out back, to the small secluded area beneath a towering sycamore tree.

Leading him to a bench, you urged him to sit as you settled beside him. Matt removed his red-tinted glasses, tucking them into his pocket, before turning to you with an unsteady gaze and tears rimming his eyes.

"I know this guy... We were close once," Matt stutters, his voice strained with emotion. "He told me if I, uh... I'd have to push the people that I care about away... if I wanted to be effective at what I do."

Your heart aches at his words, and tears begin to well up in your eyes. "Seems like you listened," you choke out.

"Yeah. I thought I didn't," Matt mumbles, his own voice thick with tears. He hears you nod, and continues, "This guy, he has a way of, uh... getting in your head, you know? And here's the thing... I had a really shitty night."

Your tears flow freely now, mirroring his own. "The kind where you think you've seen the bottom of humanity, and the pit just keeps getting deeper, you know?" he says, his breathing shaky.

"I... I can't... I can't do this alone. I can't... I can't take another step," Matt admits, his voice breaking into sobs.

Without hesitation, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close as his body shakes with the force of his tears. He leans into your embrace, seeking solace and comfort. You hold him tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as you whisper, "You're not alone, Matt. You never were.”

There were two reasons Matt was scared to let people in; the damage they could do and the damage they could find. Sometimes he doesn’t recognize the knots in his neck, the tension in his shoulders, the ache in his feet, until you hold him, and he melts into you. You feel the weight of his pain and exhaustion as he buries his face against your chest, seeking refuge from the storm raging inside him. He lets out a noise, a mixture of relief and vulnerability, muffled against the fabric of your blouse and your skin. Gently, you run your fingers through his hair, soothing away the turmoil and offering him a moment of peace.

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A DAY LATER…

CLINTON CHURCH, SAINT AGNES – MORNING

After the morning mass, you were playing with the children by the garden, ensuring everyone was having fun and treating each other fairly. After a game of tag and sitting on the nearby steps, you felt your phone buzz in the back pocket of your jeans. Pulling it out, you saw Doris's name on the caller ID.

Frowning, unsure of what to expect, you answered on the third ring. “Hello, Doris. How are you?”

“My dear… oh, I’m sorry, I just–” Doris's voice cracked with distress, her sobs audible even through the phone. A heavy weight settled in your chest. “Doris? What’s wrong? What’s happened?” you asked, concern rising.

Through her tears, Doris managed to say, “Ben is… Ben is dead. They found him in his apartment. Strangled him to death.”

You sucked in a sharp breath through your nostrils, the news hitting you like a physical blow. Closing your eyes briefly, you felt the world spin around you. “Oh, God,” you uttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

With a trembling hand, you covered your quivering mouth as you struggled to compose yourself. “Doris, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” you managed to say, your voice thick with emotion.

Doris's voice on the other end was strained as she spoke, “Would you mind helping with the funeral arrangements? If it’s no trouble, of course.”

Tears silently streamed down your cheeks as you nodded, even though she couldn't see it. “Mhm, yes. Yes, of course, I will. I’ll check with the morgue and then send the details later, okay?”

“Thank you, dear. You’re an angel,” Doris replied, her voice filled with gratitude and grief. You assured her that she could call you anytime if she needed anything.

As you place your phone in your pocket, the sounds of children playing and the warmth of the sun on your skin surround you. But the colors seemed muted, and the world felt a little colder as grief washed over you, turning everything into shades of grey and blue. With heavy sobs, you leaned forward, your hands covering your face as the weight of the loss settled in.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

CALVARY CEMETARY, GREENPOINT AVE. – DAY

Telling Matt, Foggy, and especially Karen was the hardest part. You couldn't bear to break the news to Karen over the phone. 

You went to her place instead, finding comfort in each other's presence. You two sobbed together, exchanging memories of Ben and sowing your sorrows in wine while the weight of loss hung thick in the air. You wanted, just for that one day, that God would ignore everything and spare you from the pain so you might at least feel somewhat at ease.

After finishing the funeral arrangements, informing Doris, and confiding in Father Lantom about Ben's passing, you felt like you were moving through life in a daze. Everything seemed to blur together, and you struggled to stay present in your own body. It was as if you were floating, disconnected from your surroundings and emotions. Each task felt like an insurmountable hurdle, and you found it difficult to focus on anything other than the overwhelming sense of loss and grief.

The winter wind cut through the air as the mourners gathered at the cemetery, a somber gray sky looming overhead. You stood alongside Matt and Karen, surrounded by Ben's friends and family. Pink roses adorned the hands of those paying their final respects as they watched the pallbearers carry Ben's coffin to its final resting place.

Doris, seated in her wheelchair, wept openly, her grief palpable in the chilled air. Karen, standing beside you, was visibly shaken, her tears mingling with the cold breeze. To your right, Matt stood stoically, his jaw clenched in silent anguish. His knuckles turned white as he tightly gripped his cane, a silent testament to the pain he felt.

As Ben's coffin was lowered atop the ground where he would be buried, a sense of finality settled over the gathering. The air hung heavy with sorrow as mourners filed out of the cemetery, leaving behind the memory of a beloved friend and colleague. Each person placed a pink rose atop Ben's coffin, a final farewell to a man who had touched so many lives.

Karen, her eyes red from tears, turned to Doris with a tremulous smile before glancing at you and Matt. "Give me a minute, okay?" she said, her voice choked with emotion.

You and Matt exchanged a silent nod, understanding the need for a private moment between Karen and Doris. As Karen approached Doris, you couldn't help but feel the weight of the unspoken guilt hanging in the air. Karen's shoulders sagged with the burden of sorrow and regret, a heavy reminder of the pain that lingered long after the loss.

Lost in your thoughts, you felt as if you were adrift in a sea of white noise, the cacophony of the world muted to a dull hum. You felt the stifling burden of guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders and strangling you. Each breath felt like a struggle as you grappled with the overwhelming emptiness that consumed you.

In your turmoil, the wind whispered its mournful lament, a haunting melody that echoed the depths of your despair. You stood there and closed your eyes, seeking solace in the darkness behind your eyelids, but found only the relentless pull of remorse dragging you deeper into the abyss.

There was no escape from the gnawing ache in your chest, no respite from the relentless onslaught of guilt. It seeped into every crevice of your being, staining your soul with its toxic touch. And as the water slowly turned red, a grim reminder of the blood on your hands, you knew that there was no redemption to be found in the depths of your sorrow.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

Matt stepped away from your side, his footsteps echoing softly against the ground as he made his way to Father Lantom. Then you retreated back into yourself as you stood there in a distant gaze at the casket. From where you stood, you could see them in conversation, their voices hushed but carrying in the quiet of the cemetery. 

“How you holding up?” Father Lantom's voice reached your ears, concern evident in his tone.

Matt's response was barely audible, a low murmur tinged with bitterness. “Like a good Catholic boy.”

Father Lantom's expression softened, sympathy etched in the lines of his face. “That bad, huh?”

Matt's reply was terse, his words heavy with regret. “He was a good man. And he's gone… because I haven't stopped what's happening to this city.”

The priest shook his head, his gaze steady. “Can't put that on yourself, Matthew. You've done everything you can. A lot you probably shouldn't have.”

A bitter laugh escaped Matt's lips, the sound tinged with self-deprecation. “And here we are.”

Father Lantom's concerned voice pierced through the haze enveloping your mind, pulling you back to the present. You blinked, slowly registering his words, but remained immobile, lost in your thoughts. Karen's gentle touch on your arm brought a slight sensation, but it wasn't enough to ground you.

Then, Matt approached, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of your disorientation. His hand squeezed your arm, a silent gesture urging you to return to reality. With a start, you snapped back, blinking rapidly as you struggled to regain your bearings.

“What? What happened?” you asked, your voice tinged with confusion.

“You okay? It’s like you were somewhere else for a second there,” Karen voiced her concern, her hand still rubbing soothing circles on your arm.

For a fleeting moment, you considered telling them the truth, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you opted for a vague response, hoping to brush off their worries. “Uh, sorry, just got lost in my head there for a second.”

Karen's gaze bore into you, her expression conveying a mix of concern and suspicion. Meanwhile, Matt's silent scrutiny felt like a weight on your shoulders, his heightened senses likely detecting your unease.

Despite your attempt to deflect, neither Karen nor Matt seemed convinced by your feeble excuse. Sensing their skepticism, you shifted uncomfortably, your heart hammering in your chest.

Swallowing hard, you attempted to mask your unease with a forced smile. "You guys can go ahead… I should help Father Lantom with the—"

But before you could finish, Father Lantom intervened, shaking his head gently. "You three catch up. I shall take it from here, dear," he said, his voice filled with understanding and reassurance.

As you walked away from the cemetery, a somber atmosphere hung heavy around the three of you. The sky, still overcast, cast a gloomy pallor over the surroundings, matching the mood of the occasion. Despite the weight of the moment, there was a sense of camaraderie between you, Matt, and Karen, a silent understanding of shared grief and support.

Matt, ever the gentleman, offered you his arm, a gesture of comfort and solidarity. It took you a moment to gather yourself, but eventually, you reached out and gently tucked your arm through his, grateful for the physical connection amidst the emotional turmoil.

With Karen walking beside you, the three of you formed a united front, drawing strength from each other as you navigate through the aftermath of Ben's funeral. Though words were scarce, the silent companionship spoke volumes, offering solace in the face of sorrow. Together, you forged ahead, leaning on each other for support as you walked away from the cemetery, prepared to take on any obstacles that may arise.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

NELSON & MURDOCK ATTORNEY’S AT LAW OFFICE — AFTERNOON

Karen stormed into the office, her frustration palpable in every movement. With a forceful twist, she inserted the key into the lock, the metallic click echoing through the room as she pushed the door open. Matt, ever courteous, held the door for you as you followed her inside.

Inside the office, the atmosphere crackled with tension. Matt shut the door behind him, the sound reverberating through the space as Karen tossed her keys onto the table with a sharp clatter. Her hands found their way to her desk, fingers gripping the edges as she vented her frustrations, “He just stood there, like he was his friend. Like he had nothing to do with what happened.”

Matt's brow furrowed in concern as he listened to Karen's tirade. "I thought Ben said he didn't have any evidence Ellison was taking money from Fisk," he remarked, his voice tinged with confusion.

Karen let out a frustrated sigh, her shoulders slumping with the weight of her emotions. "No, but it makes sense. I mean, it explains..." Her words trailed off, the unfinished thought hanging in the air.

With a heavy heart, Karen revealed another layer of her distress. "Do you know what makes this worse? Foggy. Didn't even show up." The disappointment in her voice was palpable, a stark contrast to the unwavering support she had always received from her friend.

“You said he left a message,” Matt said as he deftly removed his coat and scarf, hanging them on the coat rack with practiced ease. As he reached for yours, his touch ignited a warmth that spread through your body, a familiar sensation that never failed to catch you off guard.

“Yeah, he left a message… saying he had something more important to do than come to Ben's funeral,” Karen's voice dripped with bitterness as she recounted Foggy's absence as she heavily sat on her seat with a huff.

Matt shook his head, a hint of disbelief in his expression. “Come on, he wouldn't say that,” he countered, his tone tinged with a touch of defensiveness, unwilling to accept the possibility of his friend's callousness despite their recent fight.

Matt's sigh echoed through the room, laden with a heavy weight of guilt that hung in the air like a thick fog. His shoulders slumped, burdened by the weight of his perceived responsibility, “It's my fault, Karen… all of this with Foggy.”

Karen shook her head, her hand finding its way to her forehead in a gesture of frustration. "No, everyone shares the blame in a relationship. That's... just the way that it works," she reasoned, her voice tinged with a mixture of understanding and exasperation.

But Matt's response was tinged with sadness, a somber tone creeping into his words. "No, not always," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret as you frowned with your arms crossed and your back leaning against the wall.

A somber mood settled over the room, casting shadows that danced along the walls in the dim light. Matt's voice, calm and reassuring, pierced through the heavy atmosphere.

“Why don't you go home, get some rest, huh?” he suggested, his words carrying a gentle concern.

Karen's breath caught in her throat as she struggled to contain the turmoil churning within her. “I can't,” she confessed, her voice trembling with unease. “Every time I close my eyes, I see…” Her words trailed off, the memories of recent events threatening to overwhelm her. “What if he finds out that I… That I was with Ben… at Saint Benezet. What if he finds out that I spoke to his mother too?”

Matt listened attentively, his brow furrowing with empathy as he absorbed her fears. “If that happens, we will deal with it,” he promised, his tone resolute and unwavering.

But Karen's anxiety persisted, her doubts looming large in her mind. “How?” she questioned, her voice laced with desperation. “I mean, the news barely mentioned what happened to Ben because Fisk pays off the media. And the police haven't arrested anyone for it because Fisk pays them off, too.”

She fidgeted nervously, her fingers tangling in strands of golden hair as she grappled with the weight of the situation. “Foggy was right. How do you stop someone like that, someone who has so much?” she wondered aloud, her voice tinged with frustration and helplessness.

The weight of Karen's fear hung heavy in the air, each word she spoke laced with a palpable sense of dread. Matt's voice, calm and measured, cut through the tension as he sought to offer reassurance.

“It just means he has more to lose,” Matt reasoned, his words carrying a hint of conviction.

But Karen's mind was already spinning, her thoughts spiraling down a dark and foreboding path. “He's gonna find out what I did,” she declared, her voice trembling with apprehension.

Instantly, both you and Matt spoke in unison, your voices a chorus of denial. “No,” you insisted, your tone firm and resolute. But Karen remained unconvinced, her fears looming large in her mind.

“He's going to find out, and he's gonna come after me just like he came after Ben,” she asserted, her voice quivering with the weight of her conviction.

In the dimly lit room, the weight of Karen's fear hung heavy, each word she spoke echoing with the looming threat of danger. Your confession only added to the somber atmosphere, your voice heavy with guilt as you accepted responsibility for the chain of events that had led to Ben's demise.

Karen shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears, but before she could respond, Matt stepped in with a reassuring promise. “I told you I would keep you safe, Karen,” he affirmed, his voice firm and resolute despite the turmoil swirling within. “When he came after you over Union Allied. That hasn't changed.”

His words carried a sense of determination, a steadfast resolve to protect those he cared about. With a nod in your direction, he included you in his pledge of protection, “That includes you too.”

But there was something else in Matt's demeanor, a simmering anger that lurked beneath the surface. “Everyone that's taken money from him, everyone that's helped him tear this city apart… they're all gonna get what's coming to them, along with Wilson Fisk,” he declared, his voice tinged with a dangerous edge. With those words hanging in the air, he turned and strode purposefully towards his office, his steps echoing with a sense of determination and righteous fury.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

CLINTON CHURCH – EVENING

In the quiet solitude of your room above the church, you immersed yourself in the intricate dance of magic, each movement a delicate thread woven into the fabric of reality. With unwavering focus, you channeled your energy, summoning forth the ancient powers that coursed through your veins.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, you closed your eyes and allowed the magic to flow through you, its vibrant essence pulsating with raw potential. At first, your efforts were met with frustration as the spells fizzled and faltered, but you persisted, determined to relearn the arcane.

With each attempt, you felt yourself growing stronger, more attuned to the subtle nuances of the mystical forces that surrounded you. Shapes and symbols began to materialize in the air, glowing with an ethereal light as you molded the energy to your will. As the glow of your magic illuminated the room, you knew that you were one step closer to reclaiming the formidable powers that had once defined you.

The sudden shrill of your phone sliced through the quiet of your room above the church. With a flick of your wrist, your magical creations dissolved into the air as you rose to answer the call, the glow of your powers fading from your fingertips. Frowning, you glanced at the caller ID—Foggy. Despite your lingering frustration at his absence from the funeral earlier, you sighed and accepted the call.

"What?" you bit out, the tension evident in your voice.

"I swear I have an explanation for why I wasn’t at the service," Foggy's voice crackled over the line, laced with urgency. "But I’m in the office right now with Karen and Matt. We're going over the files to track down Hoffman since Fisk is hunting him down. He’ll need all the help he can get. Please."

Your frustration softened slightly at the gravity of his words. "Okay, fine. Where is he headed?"

"Fifty-third and Tenth. Hell's Kitchen," Foggy replied, his voice tight with determination.

"Alright, I’m on it," you affirmed, already mentally preparing for the task ahead.

"Come back safe, please. And take care of Matt for me," Foggy pleaded, concern evident in his tone.

"Always," you assured him before ending the call, the weight of the impending danger settling heavily on your shoulders.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

53RD AND 10TH, HELL’S KITCHEN — EVENING

As you raced through the dimly lit streets of Hell's Kitchen, your heart pounded against your ribcage, adrenaline surging through your veins. With a swift flick of your wrist, you summoned the power to cloak yourself in invisibility, blending seamlessly into the shadows that danced across the brick walls of the buildings.

From your concealed vantage point, you watched as the chaos unfolded before you. The corrupt NYPD officers, led by the menacing figure of Corbin, descended upon the scene with ruthless efficiency. Bullets tore through the air, the sharp cracks echoing through the alleyways, while the acrid scent of gunpowder hung thick in the air. Blood painted the ground in crimson splatters, a stark reminder of the violence that permeated the streets of Hell's Kitchen.

Corbin's smug demeanor melted away as he advanced menacingly toward Hoffman, the gleam of malice dancing in his eyes. "Hey, Carl. Been wondering where you got to," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice as he trained his gun on the terrified detective.

With a silent determination, you sprang into action, your movements swift and precise as you materialized from the shadows. Alongside you, Matt launched himself into the fray, his movements a blur of calculated strikes and evasions.

The air crackled with tension as you channeled your energy, the light dancing in your palm like a beacon of power. With a focused intensity, you unleashed your abilities, sending waves of energy crashing into the corrupt officers, rendering them incapacitated one by one.

As the chaos subsided and the last of the officers lay defeated, Matt turned to you with a nod of acknowledgment. "Took you long enough, sweetheart," he quipped, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

You couldn't help but chuckle, the sound muffled by the distortion of your powers. "We're doing pet names now? Cute," you retorted, your tone playful yet tinged with the underlying gravity of the situation.

Hoffman, his eyes wide with fear, looked on in disbelief at the sight before him, the two vigilantes of Hell’s Kitchen staring him down. You and Matt advanced toward him, a silent force to be reckoned with, as Hoffman remained seated, his trembling hands hovering over the scattered cards of his solitaire game.

With a determined stride, Matt dragged a nearby chair across the floor and positioned it in front of Hoffman, a silent invitation for him to take a seat. You stood by silently, your gaze steady and unwavering as you observed the tense exchange unfolding before you.

“You have an opportunity here, Detective,” Matt's voice was low and gravelly, carrying a weight of authority that commanded attention. “By turning evidence on Fisk, you can set things right. If that's what you want.”

Hoffman whimpered in fear, his resolve crumbling under the intensity of Matt's gaze.

“If not,” Matt continued, his tone sharp and pointed, “you can sit here playing with yourself until Fisk sends more men to kill you.”

Hoffman's whole body shook with fear, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as he struggled to form a coherent response.

“Decide,” Matt demanded, his voice tinged with a hint of menace.

Hoffman stuttered, his words barely audible above the sound of his own trembling. “It won't make a difference. He owns the cops. I'll be dead before I can testify—”

“Not all of them,” Matt interjected firmly, his voice brooking no argument. “Turn yourself in to Brett Mahoney. You can trust him. And he knows a couple of lawyers that can't be bought. They can help you.”

Hoffman nodded, his expression a mix of relief and apprehension. “Yeah. Thanks for the tip.”

But before Hoffman could rise from his seat, Matt's anger boiled over. With a swift motion, he flipped the table, sending the cards scattering across the floor, and delivered a punishing blow to Hoffman's face, sending him sprawling to the ground.

As Hoffman crumpled under the force of the blow, Matt loomed over him, his expression dark and menacing. “I'll be following you to make sure you get to the precinct alive,” he warned, his voice dripping with barely contained fury. “Try to run, try to do anything other than what I just told you, you'll wish I never saved you from that bullet.”

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

NELSON & MURDOCK ATTORNEY’S AT LAW OFFICE — EVENING

With Nelson and Murdock representing Hoffman, he spills his guts to the FBI, revealing everything he knows. The room is charged with tension as Hoffman recounts his dealings with Fisk and his corrupt network of associates. Each word he utters feels like a hammer blow against Fisk's empire, setting off a chain reaction that would reverberate throughout Hell's Kitchen.

As Hoffman's confession unfolds, the FBI agents scramble to take notes, their pens scratching furiously against their notepads. Nelson and Murdock stand tall and resolute, their expressions steely and determined as they listen intently to Hoffman's testimony.

And then, like a well-orchestrated symphony reaching its crescendo, the FBI moves into action. Doors are kicked in, warrants are served, and Fisk's cronies are dragged out of their hideouts in handcuffs. Randolph Cherryh, Parish Landman, Turk Barrett, Corbin, and M. Caldwell—all of them are brought down in one fell swoop.

The four of you watch the wheels of justice grind Fisk's empire to dust, there's a sense of satisfaction that washes over you all—a feeling that, for once, the good guys have won.

“The man once hailed as the savior of Hell's Kitchen is now believed to have been involved…” The newscaster says as it fades into the background as you sat around the table with Foggy, Karen and Matt. Foggy pouring out drinks in each of your cups as he says, “Now everybody knows what kind of asshole Fisk really is.”

You, Karen and Matt laugh in agreement. Karen adds, “And we are the ones that made it happen, the four of us.”

“And Marci.” Matt points out and Foggy happily swoons, “And Marci, God bless her designer pumps.”

Karen hums as she holds her drink looking at Foggy, “Maybe she's not that bad after all.”

Foggy smiles, “Woman does have a way of growing on you.”

Matt’s smiling face is illuminated by the glow of the laptop screen, his smile so blinding and his dimples showing as he says, “See, this right here… in this office. This is what's important. Knowing that the people I care about are safe, and having some sense of closure for the ones we've lost.”

Nudging Matt with a small smile, you quipped, "And I don’t even work here."

Amidst the laughter that ensued, Foggy pulled you into a quick side hug, declaring, "You’re part of the team. Can’t escape it now. You are legally bound to us. We’re like your best friends forever."

Your mock disgust elicited more laughter, but Matt couldn't resist teasing, "The moment Father Lantom told me you were asking about me was the moment you verbally came into an agreement that you are my and everyone’s friend for life."

Blushing at the embarrassing memory, you raised your glass, proposing a toast, "To those we lost."

"For Elena," Foggy chimed in.

"For Ben," Karen added solemnly.

"And everyone else that son of a bitch has hurt," Matt concluded, his voice tinged with determination. "Cheers."

As the warm liquor slid down your throat, a heavy feeling settled in your stomach, prompting a furrow of your brow. Foggy's jest about the liquor prompted a shake of your head, "No, that’s not it."

Karen leaned forward, concern etched on her face, while Matt's inquisitive tone encouraged you to speak up, “Tell us, sweetheart.”

"It’s just… okay. Arresting Fisk was too easy. Just… If I was a wealthy bad guy, who had multiple connections from different government sectors, I would have fail-safes upon fail-safes to make sure I would at least be able to escape prison."

You paused, assessing their reactions before continuing, "What if… What if he also has connections to the Bureau… someone loyal. That would mean—"

The news report blares through the office, drawing everyone's attention. The tension in the room spikes as the reporter describes the unfolding chaos involving the FBI transport carrying Wilson Fisk, “What appears now to be some sort of firefight involving the FBI transport carrying Wilson Fisk. Uh, Janet, can you confirm what we're seeing here?”

Karen reacts swiftly, slamming her laptop shut with a frustrated grunt. Foggy and Matt follow suit, hastily gathering their belongings. Outside, the wail of sirens pierces the air, signaling the urgency of the situation.

Karen's voice carries a mix of exasperation and self-reproach as she dons her coat, "Jesus, we were idiots, weren't we? Sitting here, celebrating, thinking that it would be that easy with a man like him."

"We need to get out of here before they close down the streets or something," Foggy urges, his tone laced with concern.

With Karen safely in a cab, Matt turns to his best friend, issuing instructions. "Get them home," he says firmly, his voice carrying an air of determination.

Foggy nods in acknowledgment, a sense of responsibility evident in his movements. "Okay," he responds, his focus shifting to ensuring Karen's safety.

But Karen refuses to leave Matt behind, her concern evident in her protests. "No, no, where are you going? We're not leaving you," she insists, her voice tinged with worry.

Matt offers reassurance, his resolve unwavering. "Back to my place, make some calls, see what I can find out," he explains, his tone calm yet resolute.

Despite Karen's persistence, Matt remains steadfast in his decision. "You live on the other side of town. I'll be all right," he assures her, his confidence unwavering.

Foggy takes charge, determined to ensure Matt's safety. "Hang on, I'll get him a cab," he says, swiftly moving to assist.

As Karen and Foggy make arrangements for transportation, you take initiative, declaring your own plan. "I'll head back to the church and make sure everyone is okay. I'll text when I get home," you announce, your voice filled with determination.

Before Matt and Foggy can voice any objections, you're already on the move, rushing out of the building and down the street. Making your way to the church, you quickly toss your belongings onto a nearby bench, offering a hurried apology to Father Lantom as you dart back out onto the streets.

As you walked through the bustling city streets, the weight of your purpose pressed heavily upon your shoulders. You found yourself in a dimly lit alleyway, the shadows providing a cloak of secrecy as you prepared for what lay ahead. With a deft movement of your wrist, you cast a glamour, obscuring your presence from prying eyes, and pulled your hood over your face.

With a resigned exhale, you muttered, "Okay, here goes nothing." Igniting the palms of your hands, a brilliant glow enveloped them, the iridescence shimmering in the darkness. You shut your eyes tightly, focusing on the spell, seeking out the unique essence of Matt's aura amidst the myriad of colors swirling through the city. Eventually, you detected his familiar maroon burgundy hue, and with a twist of your wrist, you vanished into the sky, hurtling towards him.

The sensation of falling at a rapid pace filled you with exhilaration and dread in equal measure. You spotted a figure clad in red traversing the rooftops and aimed for their vicinity, teleporting once more to land upon the rooftop.

A low groan escaped you as you stumbled upon landing, and you glanced up to see the Devil of Hell's Kitchen towering above you.

He offered a smirk, his voice tinged with amusement, "Didn't think I'd have you on your knees this quickly, sweetheart."

You distorted your voice and shook your head, brushing off his remark, "Not the time. Where's Fisk?"

He tilted his head, listening intently, before striding towards the rooftop's edge. You followed suit, observing as he hurled his billy club with precision, causing a nearby truck to tilt dangerously.

You couldn't help but quip, "Oooh, the Devil's got new toys. Nice suit, by the way. I like the horns."

A smirk played across Matt's lips before a loud thud diverted your attention. Wilson Fisk staggered out of the truck, prompting Matt to leap atop it, while you gracefully descended next to him, utilizing your magic to shield yourselves from the ensuing gunfire.

Matt's voice carried a grave warning, "You were right… what you told me over the radio that night. Not everyone deserves a happy ending."

Fisk sneered in response, "You?"

Before the tension could escalate further, gunfire erupted from the truck, forcing you and Matt to take a step back. With resolve, you instructed him, "Go get Fisk, I'll deal with him."

With a nod of agreement, Matt retrieved his billy club, and you focused your powers, summoning a surge of energy to confront the threat before you. You watch as the man falls to the ground and you quickly dispose of the rifle before running off to find Matt.

Eventually, you hear yelling and grunting by an alleyway, and from a distance you see Fisk punching his face and grabbing him like a barbell before slamming him to the ground. He grabs Matt’s billy club and begins screaming like a child throwing a tantrum, “This city doesn't deserve a better tomorrow. It deserves to drown… in its filth! It deserves people like my father! People like you!”

With a surge of magic coursing through your veins, the iridescent glow on your palm intensified as you unleashed a powerful wave of energy towards Fisk, sending him hurtling against the alley wall. The impact echoed through the narrow space, mingling with Fisk's pained groans.

Ignoring Fisk's struggles, you rushed to help Matt up, but your efforts were abruptly halted as Fisk seized a handful of your hood and your hair, wrenching your head back and slamming it repeatedly against the unforgiving brick wall. Sharp yelps of pain escaped your lips with each brutal impact, leaving you disoriented and vulnerable.

Before you could react, Fisk snatched Matt's billy club, raining down vicious blows upon your defenseless form. Each strike sent searing pain radiating through your side, the force knocking you to the ground, the gritty concrete scraping against your skin.

Through a haze of agony, you heard Matt's defiant declaration, his voice heavy with determination. "This is my city... my family."

Summoning every ounce of strength, Matt unleashed a relentless assault on Fisk, each blow driven by a fierce resolve. Despite his injuries, Matt refused to yield, delivering a final, decisive blow that sent Fisk crumbling to his knees, defeated.

As police sirens wailed in the distance, Brett Mahoney, his weapon raised, approached cautiously. "Police! Show me your hands! Do it! Show me your hands!"

"I told you before, Sergeant… We’re not the bad guys," Matt asserted, his voice raw with exhaustion. Mahoney's recognition was palpable as he lowered his gun, his disbelief evident. "Holy shit, it's you."

With Fisk restrained, Matt helped you to your feet, concern etched into his features. Despite the pain coursing through your body, you managed a nod, determined to press on.

As Mahoney secured Fisk in handcuffs, Matt whispered softly, his concern evident. "You alright?" You winced but nodded, assuring him of your resilience.

Mahoney's voice cut through the tense atmosphere, seeking clarification. "Hey, so what am I supposed to call you when I file my report?" But you and Matt were already in motion, swiftly making your way to the rooftop.

With a final surge of energy, you cloaked yourself in invisibility, teleporting to the New York Sanctum, a sanctuary, your strength waning but your resolve unyielding.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

OUTSIDE NELSON & MURDOCK ATTORNEYS AT LAW OFFICE — DAY

"Daredevil and the Divine." Karen's voice resonated through the crisp morning air, her words dancing off the surrounding buildings like a fleeting melody. "That's what they're calling him now. The man in the mask and that woman who shows up to help him and the people of Hell’s Kitchen."

Foggy, his fingers dancing nervously on the signboard, echoed his skepticism. "Daredevil? Sounds like he's gonna jump Snake River Canyon on his rocket cycle."

A grin tugged at the corner of Matt's lips, a rare moment of levity amidst the grim reality of their recent struggles. "It kinda does, doesn't it?"

"And The Divine? What’s with these names?" Foggy's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, mirroring your own silent query.

Karen, however, found a glimmer of amusement in the midst of it all. "Okay, okay. I thought it was a bit goofy at first, but it kinda grows on you. And it's better than the Devil of Hell's Kitchen anyway. Oh, come on, the Divine for a woman vigilante superhero is pretty cool."

"Not wrong there," Matt agreed, a hint of approval in his tone, while you offered a nod of agreement.

"I cannot believe this is the same guy that stopped that Union Allied nut from stabbing me in my apartment. That is a serious upgrade," Karen remarked, her gaze lingering on the newspaper clipping.

"I don't know, I think the horns are a bit much," Foggy chimed in, prompting a burst of laughter from you.

As Foggy finalized the sign, Karen's expression softened into a smile. "There! Done! What do you think?"

"I think I'm glad I fished it out of the trash," Karen quipped, earning a pleased grin from Foggy.

Matt approached the sign, his fingertips tracing over the engraved letters, before turning to face his companions with a warm smile. "Nelson and Murdock. Avocados at law."

Your raised eyebrow prompted Karen's laughter. "'Avocados'?"

Foggy glanced at his watch, a hint of urgency in his demeanor. "It's a long story. Which I do not have time to tell you. Promised Marci I'd help her find a new job since most of the partners at Landman and Zack are under indictment."

"Oh? You two getting back together?" You inquired, drawing a shrug from Foggy. "No. I don't know. Maybe."

Amidst the laughter and banter, you interjected, "Tell her thank you, for everything she’s done for us. For everything she did helping bring Fisk down."

Foggy's reminder of the impending trial cast a shadow over the jovial atmosphere. "Fisk still needs to go to trial. Just getting a court date on a case this big could take a year."

"That long?" Karen's concern was present, but Matt's reassurance rang clear. "He's where he belongs, that's all that matters."

Matt gestured to their small group with his pointer finger as he smiled, "And we put him there."

Foggy's grin was infectious. "Yeah, we did. Hell of a sign."

Matt's lopsided smile hinted at his quiet pride. "Now all we need are clients."

"One day at a time, partner. One day at a time," Foggy echoed, offering Matt a reassuring pat on the arm before heading across the street to meet up with Marci while Karen went upstairs to the office to finish some work.

Your sudden wince of pain drew Matt's attention, his heightened senses detecting the faintest traces of discomfort emanating from you. He steadied you with a gentle touch, concern etched into his features. "You okay, sweetheart?"

Your quick explanation belied the true source of your discomfort, “M’just a little sore from all the walking and running,” but Matt's perceptive nature left no room for evasion. "Running?"

"Oh, just when I’m running late on errands and stuff…" Your feeble attempt at deflection couldn't mask the truth from his discernment. “Anyways, not that big of a deal, I’ll be alright.” You said as you scrunched your nose a little.

Matt's voice, a soothing whisper amidst the chaos of emotions, enveloped you like a comforting embrace. "Y’know you can tell me anything, right?" His hand found yours, the warmth of his touch a reassuring anchor in the tempest of your thoughts.

You met his gaze, the crimson lenses of his mask reflecting the faint glow of the city lights. His smile, a beacon of solace in the darkness, stirred a flurry of emotions within you, each heartbeat echoing like the frantic flutter of hummingbird wings. Yet, beneath the surface, a weight pressed upon your chest, a silent reminder of the burdens you carried.

"I know," you murmured, your words heavy with unspoken grief. "There are things though I wish I could change. Elena… Ben. But I can’t."

Matt's grip tightened, his touch a silent reassurance amidst the turmoil of your emotions. Drawing you closer, he offered words of solace, a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of sorrow. "It's like I told Foggy, all we can do is move forward… together. Come on."

With a solemn nod, you surrendered to the comforting embrace of his guidance, a silent pact forming within the recesses of your soul. Yet, amid the solace he offered, a shadow of apprehension lingered, a silent reminder of the fleeting nature of the peace you now have.

For in the heart of this momentary respite, you recognized the cost exacted by the fragile sanctuary you dared to grasp—a price paid in the currency of uncertainty, where the promise of heaven was tempered by the inevitability of its fleeting embrace.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

TAGLIST: @scoliobean @thychuvaluswife @pantrashtic @ofmusesandsecrets @c-losur3 @coco-karfunkel

[a-random-fan4444]

Hockey Stick brainrot is real. Have some ramblings! :D

(Also thank you so much to every single person whose rebloged, liked, or commented on my Hockey Stick stuff!!! 💕💕💕)

Part 1 | Part 2

Quick summary on “Hockey Stick”: Casey jr gets an emotional support animal, but the emotional support animal is Brother Kraang in disguise. Junior names his pet Hockey Stick.

———————————————————

Casey Jr on the pet forums. His posting history is along the lines of:

“Is it normal for my pet to try to kill anyone who visits my apartment?”

“Is it normal for my pet to screech at midnight?”

“Do animals have a sense of morality?”

And respondes of:

“Yes, my own dog and cat have been acting similarly skittish since the alien invasion. Your pet just wants to protect you. I’d advice slowly introducing new friends to your pets, like through scent! Hope this helps.”

“Yes, all animals do this. I had a little mouse who was silent as well, a mouse, during the day but at night screeched like a banshee. The only insistence where this would be considering not normal is if your pet was a fish.”

“No, people may try and fool you into thinking it’s just cats that lack morality, BUT THEY’RE WRONG!!! My brother’s fish was planning to drown me, I don’t have proof BUT I KNOW I’M RIGHT!!!”

———————————————————

Hockey Stick being scared of the vacuum, Hockey Stick being afraid of the vacuum, Hockey Stick being afraid of the-NO WAIT! Both Casey Jr and HockeyStick being scared of the vacuum!!!

The sound the vacuum makes reminds them both too much of the sound the portal to the Prison Dimension made when it closed.

April has on more than one occupation vacuumed Casey Jr apartment while he and HockeyStick (hidden in Casey Jr’s hoodie as to not be spotted) hissed at her from the top of the fridge. Both have ear muffs on (HockeyStick’s mini earmuffs were provided by Mikey).

———————————————————

Both are discovering what it means to be “normal” by human standards.

Casey Jr adjusting to being in a world where he isn’t constantly on survival mode. Where his normal actions are now “paranoid activity”

Brother Kraang not existing in a dimension that’s nothing but vast emptiness and rubble. Pretending to be a normal part of a world that has a lot of biodiversity in comparison to the prison dimension.

Both are experiencing the beauty of planet Earth for the first time, and the joy of just being able to simply enjoy existing for the first time. (•,n,•) I’m making myself emotional.

AND both feel alone because their families are just out of reach!

Casey Jr’s family doesn’t exist anymore, the present version of them will never become the versions of the family who raised him.

Meanwhile Brother Kraang knows his siblings are alive and where they are, but he can’t do anything to free them.

———————————————————

Other Random Detail:

Casey Jr lives in the same apartment complex as Draxum and April.

The name “Hockey Stick” was a suggestion from Casey, she had a goldfish in her childhood named Hockey Puck.

Hockey Stick when first taken in by Junior was the size of a stuffed bear, but is slowly getting back to his regular size.

Brother Kraang despises all animals, they have very good intuition so they attack him on sight.

———————————————————

Little Plot Bunnies, Specifically the Kraang & EPS:

Prime Kraang and Sister Kraang know each other to be alive. They don’t know if Brother Kraang is alive.

Sister Kraang spends her time imprisoned thinking about how she’s gonna torture the turtles. Specifically how she’ll torture them in front of each other, making them give up any information of where her brother is. She misses her psychotic little brother.

Speaking of, the EPF (Earth Protection Force), is looking for “The Infector” (Kraang Brother). They have “The Destroyer” (Kraang Sister), and know that Kraang Prime has somehow been exiled from Earth.

Yes, the EPF can get Kraang Prime’s name right but not the other two. Sister Kraang doesn’t plan on correcting them anything soon.

Honestly I could do a whole spin off on Kraang Sister’s side of the story. While “HockeyStick” is getting belly rubs and napping, Sister Kraang is setting new records for how long a security guard can last before pleading with their superiors for a transfer.

———————————————————

And Finally, Art Time:

Casey Jr with HockeyStick (What are they looking at? 👀)

Brother Kraang shifting into his animal form for the first time.

[bcofl0ve]

So, genuinely and respectfully, I have a question. Your previous anons about Vanessa and why people don't like Kaia got me thinking. It seems like the more hard-core fandom is split into people who like Kaia and vocally support the relationship, and people who don't like her and are vocal about thinking it's PR or that they'll break up. I have seen people who don't like her say it's PR, they're not soulmates, she's a nepo baby, etc. I've also seen people who do like her say they'll get married and have kids, and handwave away anything about her that comes across as problematic. Both sides are also very vocal about thinking the other side is delusional, from what I can tell. My question is: if they were to break up and he dated someone else, do you think Kaia's supporters would dislike the new girlfriend in the same way her detractors dislike her? I'm not suggesting that you (or anyone else) necessarily would, but your anon about Vanessa in particular made me wonder. If he dated someone else, it would be easy for people to nitpick the new person simply because she was *not* Kaia, or insist that the new relationship wouldn't last. Or call her *insert negative personal attack here* in comparison. I'm not saying that's what would happen, or accusing you or anyone else of anything. I'm just curious to know your thoughts on whether, if Austin and Kaia did break up, Kaia's supporters/fans specifically would dislike the new girlfriend by default. This is more of a psychological 'let's put on our how women treat women in the social media sphere goggles' type of question than anything else, but I just wondered if you had thoughts.

i actually love doing fandom psychology LOL so don't apologize!

me personally, while i'd be bummed if they split bc i really like them together- anyone austin was with that wasn't like, genuinely problematic i'd "accept" him with. i want him to be happy more than i want him to be/not be with any one specific person. whatever that looks like- so long as it doesn't appear to be genuinely harmful or something, i'll trust his judgement calls on his own life.

whether i would make those calls myself or not. like for example, i joke a little sometimes about how the ppl who hate kaia would be throwing even bigger fits if he ended up with alana champion (a model he followed that 2021 summer he was single. no proof they were ever ~involved~, hence my being jokey about this). not bc she's a bad person- i don't dislike her personally! but bc just objectively ppl who wanted to nitpick would imo find more to nitpick. she's good friends with dasha of red scare pod fame and i just...can you imagine if austin was in that circle and we were doing red scare pod discourse on here as opposed to "kaia can't act" discourse lmfao. we got lucky! but i say that to say even so, if it was alana he found his happiness with i would've been ~fine~.

if they broke up i wouldn't endorse others being nitpicky about this hypothetical new girl if wasn't actually problematic or a "bad person". though i mean, i'm human and not without my own biases. so i think it'd take me a hot minute to "adjust" since at this point i am genuinely a fan of kaia on her own! but idk if i'd blast any of those hypothetical feelings all over in public posts as opposed to just dming my friends about it. (a self control skill i think more people could use lol!)

i feel like im word salading here so hopefully i made sense!

[reasonsilovemywife]

Mental Health - Break the Stigma

My beautiful bride posted this on “The Facebooks”  and it’s important and she gave me permission to share it here, word for word: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Recently, I was struggling with depression, and I may be still, but it wasn't until this year that our insurance covered mental health services.  I wasn't aware I was depressed until it started to get a bit better. That doesn't mean the depression magically left, it means there was enough of a break in the clouds that I could see the sky again. Two things happened that caused me to notice.

One, at least a small part of my depression was hormonal. I was prescribed some estradiol 0.01% estrogen cream by my urologist because it could help with my interstitial cystitis. I'm perimenopausal, so my estrogen is dropping and it caused a hormonal depression.  What caused me to realize this was happening was after I used the estradiol and it was like I had just mainlined some espresso! For the first time in a long time, I felt so good! I had more energy and I was raring to get some things done! 

Before I had used estradiol, a friend had told me of her hormonal depression and how hormone therapy helped her. I didn't think I was depressed. I had just been through a world fracturing loss immediately followed by several other losses, so it made sense I was down. I was grieving, but I didn't know it was depression and that my hormones had hopped on for the ride.  As I examined my physiological response to the medicine, I began to connect the dots, and that's when I could see the depression for what it was. It was like coming out of a haze. This is what spurred the second thing to happen. I began to look at how I was feeling and my responses more closely. Overthinking came in handy at this part as I turned everything over and examined it more closely. I could see that over the last 2-3 years my communication with friends and acquaintances had dropped off dramatically. Only the very closest people to me were getting some kind of regular communication, even though that was a struggle sometimes. It wasn't that I didn't care or didn't want to know how others were doing, and if someone had reached out to me for help I would've done my best to help them, but I couldn't reach out for myself because I didn't know I needed help. That realization lifted a significant chunk of the haze for me. You may wonder why Mike didn't notice this, it's because he was suffering the same losses. The person closest to me was also in a depression in struggling, and for those 2-3 years we just survived. The first 6 months or so were the adjustment to the quarantine and life in a Covid-19 world. Then I got certified as a medical transcriptionist. Addison got Felix, and Mike took them to the park and to Stone Mountain to hike while I did my course. And then there wasn't enough to keep busy. Whether other activities slowed down, or the depression strengthened, maybe both, I can't say. We survived the through losses, through the pandemic, through life by hiding in our escapes of books, movies, tv shows, and video games. But that's what it was, surviving, not really living. We were there for each other as much as we could be, but when getting out of bed is one of your biggest struggles, and how you start each day, it can be incredibly difficult to be present in life let alone be there to support someone else. So when that's all we could do, we would just be present for each other. We were fortunate with that, and it may have made a bigger difference than we'll ever know.

This depression started with the loss of my Dad in December 2019, followed by one of Mike's brothers 6 weeks after that, followed by losing Joey Good Boy, followed by 5 more losses in the year and a half since that December. Because of the pandemic, I couldn't go back to MD to see my mom and sister regularly, something that helped me deal with everything. Grief so great that it nearly blotted out everything else. Grief so great that it's a mental health concern. Grief so great that it shut everything else out and consuming depression moved in. 

Mike and I do regular check-ins with each other about once a week or so about how we're doing individually and how we feel about how our relationship is going. We used to do monthly relationship check-ins to make sure we maintained a healthy relationship, but that was before we were surviving. Little things, things that would go unnoticed could uncharacteristically become a big deal, but they weren't being addressed because it was just one more thing to deal with and it was just one more thing I simply could not handle because I was surviving. I got out of bed most mornings, because there was a point I just gave in, and that took all the effort I could muster.

My depression. I had never before been depressed like this. It was new and terrible. It was stubborn and difficult to get to leave, and sometimes it keeps trying to slip back in like an unwanted visitor. I know its tricks now. I know the signs when it wants to ramp up again because I'm still not 100% but now I know. I know how and when I need to communicate that I need something. I focus on rebuilding communications and relationships that suffered, and that's hard sometimes because it can still be hard to talk about being depressed, not because I'm embarrassed but because it's a lot to deal with, but facing it is how I, personally, work through it.

Not everyone is that fortunate, that's right, fortunate in depression. I was raised in a home where we were taught to be compassionate about the struggles of mental health. Mental health, the health of the mind, a legitimate illness that needs the care of a good doctor. My depression snuck up on me, and then I accidentally found something that helped me. Not everyone is that fortunate. Check-in on your friends. Let them know you care.

[bokutosbiceps]

HIII!! I hope your having a great day…! I saw you take matchups but I’m not sure if your requests ar woken or not but I think they are—? Forgive me if I’m wrong anyways but I’ll take a romantic matchup for Soul Eater, Bungo Stray Dogs and Fairy Tail please ^^

So small introduction..! My name is Joey, I use he/him pronouns, im transgender aromatic unlabeled and bisexual, i have autism and adhd(diagnosed), and im a cool person 😎/hj My personality: I am a ENTP and I’m extroverted but I am awkward at first when I meet someone new so it may take me some time to adjust to the new person before I emote freely, my enneagram is a 6(not sure if that’s important BUT ANYWAYS—!), i usually love to ramble about my Interests a lot or just how my day went, I also like texting a lot usually as well so I make jokes like “UwU”, “hai”, or “I’m homophobic” (Bro don’t take the homophobic part seriously 😭), and lastly I also like to make sexual jokes a lot lololol only if I’m REALLY close with someone

Appearance: I’m 5’6, I’m white skinned, I have brown (now more boyish) hair, brownish/hazel eyes, and I shave a rectangular body shape (I also gained some muscles so nkw I can squeeze ppl plus I’m more stronger xD), i also wear a shit load of styles—! Like goth (trad goth, romantic goth, mall goth, and nu goth), gyaru (hime gal, himekaji, agejo, rokku, manba, kogal and tsuyome), scenemo/emo and vkei ouji and lolita but!! i wear that stuff when I’m doing social media stuff, at home, school, malls, etc, but usually I also wear streetwear stuff like baggy pants and usually anime shirts or a regular shirt

Interests/hobbies: anime/manga, gaming, cosplaying, art(drawing, painting, pottery, digital art and more), cooking, fashion, making clothes of my own, making/listening to music(I’m a vocaloid producer hahahah—), science/history, shopping, writing, learning new languages likes Japanese and Spanish and more so on

Likes: cats, hajime hinata (danganronpa), a silent voice, albedo (genshin impact), lemon demon, felix kranken (twf), bread, musicals, sharks, christmas music/christmas in general, scp 3008 (roblox game), get a snack at 4am (roblox game), hotels, and my friends!

Dislikes: negative mentions of my voice, comparing me to people like “you remind me of ___”,hate talk about my interests or myself, drama between friends/family, loud noises(yelling, vacuuming, etc), and spiders

Thanks!

a/n: i'm so sorry if these suck. this is the first time i've written anything in like almost a year so i hope you enjoy them LOL

bungou stray dogs

I match you up with Edogawa Ranpo! You guys are two sides of the same coin which makes your relationship all the more fun and interesting! You guys would have tons of fun together either learning about new things and Ranpo loves to listen to whatever new music you make or inspect any new art you may create! Ranpo especially loves your fashion sense and is often envious of how you can figure out how to put a whole costume together. He would especially love your sexual jokes because he also loves to make lewd remarks with a smirk just to see someone flush in embarrassment. Honestly, chaotic power couple right here, the vibes are immaculate.

fairy tail

I match you up with Mirajane Strauss! Mirajane is super nurturing and extremely supportive of whatever you want to do, she’s your biggest fan! She also knows a thing or two about putting together different outfits (she’s got all these demon equip outfits that are awesome and I just love them so much) so you guys bond over your fashion sense and your interest in cosplaying. Lewd comments/jokes will make her blush ear to ear at first but after you guys get more comfortable with each other, she’ll be quick to fire some back and start a battle of who can make the dirtiest joke around ;) She also hates drama between her friends and family so that will never be an issue in your relationship, since she’ll do everything in her power to avoid any sort of drama between the two of you.

soul eater

I match you up with Crona Gorgon! You both are just the most precious little beans and need to be protected at all costs. Crona is interested in everything you do and admires your many talents; they think you are the coolest person ever. They look up to you in every way and often ask you to teach them how to do things. Right now, Crona is the most interested in the music that you make. Music makes them feel happy and warm, no matter what kind of music it is, and they think that it’s just the coolest that you can actually create a whole voice! Please be patient with Crona though, they will most likely take quite a while to warm up to you, but once they’re comfortable with you, they’re never leaving your side!

[in-my-feels-probably]

hey there! i'm interested in getting option 2 for the 1.5k event. i would love the vampire diaries/the originals fandom.

pronouns: she/her

interested in being shipped with the boys

hobbies: singing in a band, reading fantasy novels, taking long naps, collecting things like stickers/journals/postcards, drawing, crocheting

i'm an INFJ Ravenclaw

i'm a very short redhead with blue gray eyes. common people i'm told i look like: lucy hale, florence pugh, hailee steinfeld, danielle campbell

personality time! (oh gosh)

i'm the type of person that people regard as being very well adjusted but honestly i'm having a mental breakdown most of the time.

i'm a deeply empathetic person, i care a lot about others and sometimes i forget to care for myself because of it. if someone i care about is in trouble, or needing my help, i will drop everything i'm doing to assist them. i also love sending care packages and letters to people.

i have taken in many of my friends throughout my life because they needed a place to stay. unfortunately, this aspect of my personality has also led to me being scorned many times (i see the good in people and tend to overlook the bad).

BECAUSE of that scorn though, i have developed some trust issues.

on the flip side of my sensitive/kind nature, i can be very feisty. when i'm frustrated i just want to beat up something, and i become very passionate towards injustice. my friends say i'm like a kitten with a knife.

additionally, i would consider myself a brave person. I don't struggle to have hard conversations with people (i don't like them but I'll do it), I've stood up to every bully I've ever had, and I've asked out every crush. unfortunately, this has led to me being rejected multiple times (contributing to my sense of no one ever being able to love me)

due to my trust issues and rejections, i tend to feel like an outsider in most of my friend groups. it can be very lonely.

TO FINISH IT OFF (this has become too long), i would consider myself a wise/intelligent person (i give good advice), resilient, but also easy going.

i'm a words of affirmation girlie, so i would love in a relationship to feel supported and welcome when i often don't feel accepted in a space.

i also would love someone who doesn't mind me going on about my hyperfixations for hours (which i will do when i get comfortable).

i'm also very touch starved but i will never initiate it (i like when my friends hug me but i will never go to hug them first).

hope that information was helpful! i realize i sound crazy

hi!

thanks for participating :)

i ship you with stefan!

i know damon is more of the collector type, but i feel like stefan is too when it comes to sentimental things. a lot of things he could collect would have bad memories attached to them if he got them in one of the periods his humanity was off. but, when he saw how much you liked collecting things, he’d attach new memories to them. he’d gift little things to you if you expressed interest in them, i totally think one of his love languages is gift giving.

stefan is also a really empathetic person. he’s directly protective of the ones he loves, and he’d admire that you’re the same way. he feels a lot for the people he cares for, even taking on their feelings as his own. he’d see that you felt as deeply as he did, and it would bring you closer together. knowing the signs of a breakdown because he’s all too used to having them himself, he’d be especially helpful for when you felt overwhelmed and anxious. and he’d know he could lean on you when he felt the same, knowing you were one of the only people who truly understood the complexity of those feelings.

hot take, but i think stefan is a glass half empty kind of guy. he’s has too much happen to him in his life to remain entirely optimistic. he puts on a good front, but you’d be able to see right through it. he’s quick to think of the worst case scenario—the good part of that being he’s always prepared to deal with it. and while he can he incredibly patient, he also has a short temper. but around you, he’d learn to control it. you’d make him feel like it was ok to try and have a better outlook on his life and circumstances.

he’d understand that life has made you a little reserved when it comes to learning to trust people. and he’d feel extra special when you let him in and let yourself be vulnerable with him. he’d also 100% be down to be with you and away from the group. while he enjoys hanging out with friends, he’d much rather be alone with you. when you needed a day to recharge, he’d be happy to give you it. but he’d never let you shut him out, and he’d never let you feel lonely. you’d be stuck with him for better or worse. quality time is another love language of his. he’d find it so endearing when you’d ramble on about your hobbies and interests. no matter what they were or how much he was or wasn’t interested in them, he’d be content to hear about them just because you enjoy them. and he’d be happy to join you with them.

i don’t think physical touch is that important to stefan. while he’d certainly enjoy hugging you and holding your hand and being close, he doesn’t need to. he’d never want to do anything that made you uncomfortable, and he’d be content just being in the same room as you. but he’d also be able to sense when you needed a hug, even if you didn’t ask for one. he’s so good with words, he’d make you feel comfortable enough to initiate touch with him yourself if you wanted to.

—

one perk of being a vampire nearly two centuries old is the sheer amount of journals he’d been able to collect over the years. one day, he’d take you to the library in the house full of books from various time periods. he’d show you a small section off in a corner that damon never bothered venturing over to full of leather bound journals—some filled, some empty. he’d pull a almost entirely blank one off the shelf, handing it to you.

he’d smile as you looked at him in amazement, gently flipping through the pages. “where did you get this? it’s beautiful.”

“chicago, 1929,” he’d recall, flipping it over to show you the initials carved into the spine. “i had a loft above this speakeasy there. it was left on the counter one night after close, and no one came to claim it. the bartender was about to throw it away before i got to it.”

you’d open the journal once more, your brows furrowing as you looked at the front page. “just this page was written in. and this isn’t your handwriting, so it must be from whoever left it behind. why didn’t you rip out this page and start it over? you kept it with you all these years just to never use it?”

he’d chuckle, glancing up at the shelf of journals tucked away. “i never needed to. i had plenty of others to use. it seemed like a waste.”

“why not throw it away if you planned on never using it?” you’d ask, holding it out for him to take.

“i don’t know. maybe i was waiting for the right person to come along. you’d certainly get more use out of it than me.”

your eyes would light up, making him smile. “you’re giving it to me?”

he’d nod, his eyes softening on you as you beamed up at him.

“baby, you could have the whole shelf if you wanted it.”

—

i don’t love how this turned out but i’m sleep deprived and i don’t wanna make you wait any longer, so here you go! i promise i’ll write something better next time if you’re here for 1.7k lol. thank you again for participating! i hope you enjoyed this :)

[definesanity]

The Master of Puppets, The Reunion of Friends, and The Altered Destiny.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sounds of heavy panting echoed through the desolate cavern, with the occupants holding on to a nearby wall for support.

"Well, that was terrifying." Phillip said in a matter-of-fact tone, as he quickly brushed himself off and adjusted his clothes. "You two okay?"

"Huff... I haven't been this exhausted in a while!" Amber then nodded. "But, apart from that, I'm fine! How about you, Eula?"

"...I swear, if we get out of this alive, I will get my vengeance." from her tone and glare alone, Phillip knew not to make a comment; the Lawrence Clan are known for their photographic memory, after all.

"Lovely; now, apart from that nice greeting we had from our resident hellspawn, I noticed quite a few things about this place while we were running.

"You know, besides it being a shithole." he added, seeing Eula's unamused gaze.

"Well, go on; I want to know who to put on ice after all this."

"Eula!"

"Well, it's clear that someone has been using these tunnels for a bit now; maybe just under a few months. Not only that, but I sense multiple Elemental lifeforms around us; one that's incredibly pure, most probably the kid; one that's incredibly dark, maybe Collei and Hank, and--"

"Wait, hold on." Amber suddenly looked incredibly interested, her eyes looking oddly distant. "Did you say Collei?"

"Hm? Oh, you know her? Around your height, green hair, purple eyes, and a lot of snark?"

"Yeah... yeah, that's her!" she suddenly looked puzzled. "But, I thought she was in Sumeru?"

Chuckling in exhaustion, he gestured. "Come; I'll fill you two in as we walk."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, random question; let's say, for a moment, that I don't recall mentioning my little... problem. Would you be able to sense it, still?"

"Indeed; my eye is able to track, trace and analysis Elements. Yours is no exception."

Walking at the androids' side, Collei moved the bracelet-gauntlets, grumbling. "I admit I'm not the fashion type, but why are they so large? And--wait, how did you make these so fast?"

Hank glanced at her. "They were made that way to control larger amounts of energy, Archon Residue or Elements. As for its quick creation, I had it on my person for a while; I simply completed some last minute adjustments on it."

"How long is 'a while'?"

She shrugged. "Last I checked, one hundred and twenty-three days."

"I guessed..."

Continuing on, Collei gave herself a mental shrug. Might as well learn more about her unexpected companion, right?

"So, apart from your guns, what else do you use in combat?"

Hank pointed towards her waist, where thin capsules laid side-by-side.

"These: Micro Elemental Bombs, or MEBs for short. Once thrown, they explode upon either elemental reaction or a heat source. The latter, I don't worry about; as an android, I have no body heat."

"Hmm..." putting her arms out and... 'willing' it, dark tendrils surrounded Collei's arms. "Would this count as a heat source?"

"...No, it would not. Why do you ask?"

"Say if you need someone to give it an extra 'oomph'; if I cover myself, I'd be able to hold them, right?"

"...That is correct." Hank looked pleased, though she's not sure if that's a necessarily 'good' thing.

"Well, anyways... is there anyone else here besides us?"

Hank's eye flickered into life, and Hank then replied: "There is Phillip, Llizel's mortal vessel and an 'Amber' and 'Eula Lawrence' as well... Collei?" Hank turned to the frozen girl, who's eyes were wide.

Collei blinked, then muttered in shock, "Amber's here...?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well, that explains a few things.

Holding on to your staff to support to yourself, you peered down and spotted a group that you weren't surprised to see:

The Fatui. Because where danger and/or interesting things are, they're soon to follow.

And, sitting on a Ruin Guard, her bored eyes twiddling her thumbs, was the Fatui Harbinger Marionette, or just Sandrone.

"Progress." her voice was soft, but with the underlining venom in it, you immediately knew she wouldn't be fun to face in combat.

"I'm afraid that it has been slow, Lady Sandrone," a Skirmisher said, as he moved over to a device that sunk into the ground. "However, we've managed to detect a massive Elemental energy a few hundred feet below us, maybe even less; not only that, but it's artificial as well."

"Artificial? In what way." there wasn't even a flicker on her face, but her voice did hold curiousity.

"We are still attempting to ascertain it, but it seems to be divine in origin; additionally, another Elemental signature shows another entity, one that's ancient in age."

"I see. If you'll please, try and take another scan elsewhere; I shall deal with the affairs here."

The Fatuus nodded, and with a quick, "Yes, My Lady," he walked away. When he was gone Sandrone scanned the room.

"I assume this power I feel is the one of Our Divine Leader. Do I assume correctly?" there was no hostility in her voice, only a curiosity.

Seeing that you've already been found out, you decide to find yourself, and teleport some feet behind her. "You've got a good eye."

"...Hiding your physical form? ...I suppose that is fair; after all, God or not, one should always be careful." Sandrone reasoned, before turning to your exact location. "Still, a suggestion; perhaps you should consider hiding your Elemental energy as well?"

...Yeah, she's got you there. Revealing yourself, you gave a shrug. "I confess that my mind hasn't been the sharpest lately. I will take l your suggestion to heart, however."

The Marionette's eyebrows raised at your appearance, icy blue eyes betraying not the slightest thought behind them. "So, the God Who Formed Teyvat has returned. For what reason?"

You smiled, walking around and slowly twirling the Staff of Llizel. "Now, that's an interesting question. Honestly, I could tell you that I'm here on important business, when I'm actually just here to relax. I could tell you I have descended to save the world from an immediate crisis, when I'm actually just going to sit back and watch it happen.

"What I'm trying to say is: it's not what I think I'm here for, it's what you think I'm here for."

"...I see. Then, if I was to say you were here in order to help the world of Teyvat in ridding it of a potentially harmful being..."

"...Then, that shall be my reason." you nodded, your staff on the floor. "I never thought I'd find myself in the company of one of the Cryo Archon's Harbingers, to be frank, but it is nice not knowing all."

"Forgive my prying, but what do you mean, 'nice not knowing nothing', might I ask?"

"Personally, and don't tell this to anyone from Sumeru, but I believe that true knowledge exists in knowing that you know nothing; knowing everything can be incredibly dull, all things considered, and mayhaps I simply enjoy surprises, but I quite enjoy adapting and overcoming obstacles."

"...Hm." Sandrone nodded at you, a smile gracing her lips. "In that case, it's a pleasure to work with you, Your Grace."

"Likewise, Lady Sandrone."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hm~hm~hm-hm~hm-hm-hm-hm."

"Please tell me you're not enjoying this."

"Oh, heavens no; although, when the going gets tough, denial is one's best friend."

Amber let out a small laugh at her friend and the strange yet respectful traveller's small bouts of talk. It helps to break the silence that normally befalls them. After a moment more of walking, Amber tried her hand at conversation, as Phillip paused to check the Elements around them.

"Say, Phillip, I've been wondering; do you have any hobbies?"

Eula looked at her, but Phillip chose to reply. "Hobbies? Hmm... well, to be perfectly honest, no; not in this life, anyhow."

"Eh? What do you mean, 'not in this life'?"

"That, my friend, is where it gets less logical and more 'please believe me' territory. Though, since you're curious, I'll try my best to explain it simply: firstly, tell me this: what is, to you, a soul?"

"A soul?" Amber put her hand to her chin, tapping it as her eyes closed. "Well... it's what a living being is, right? What makes them 'them'?"

"That's a good description, yes; furthermore, a soul can be, basically, recycled; when a person's physical body dies, and their conscious fades entirely, their soul gets 'cleaned', and is then passed on to the next new living being. What then happens then, if you please, if a soul isn't fully cleaned?

"In short, the memories of that life is passed on to the next being, more commonly known as reincarnation: as it currently stands, I am the sixth reincarnation, with this being my last."

"...Okay, let's say for a moment I believe you," Eula challenged, her eyebrow quirked. "How is it that you still possess all your memories without suffering any mental damage?"

"Ah, now that is something I was hoping you'd ask; simply put, I've categorised my memories, from life, into talents, into knowledge, into experiences, like a folder of sorts. It helps save my memory some trouble, and is highly effective as well!"

"That... actually sounds pretty cool!" admitted the crimson Outrider, and then pondered, "Well, if you have so many memories, could you answer one question of mine?"

"How much?" at Eula's glare, he put his hands up. "I'm joking. Still, if you will?"

"In Sumeru, I heard that people use knowledge as a resource. Well, I was thinking: what is the difference between knowledge and wisdom?"

"Hmm..." crossing his arm over on and placing his hand on his chin, Phillip closed his eyes and stood still for half a minute in silence, his lips moving slightly in whispered words. Finally, he opened them, and shrugged.

"Now, I can't give you a straight answer: I and my Incarnations may share the same Soul, but we share multiple different opinions and lives. Although, I do think that 'we' have an answer:

"Knowledge is, to us, a basic understanding of a subject, philosophy, hobby, sport, or any other type of individual existence. For example, I have a basic understanding, or Knowledge, of sewing. While nothing too noteworthy, I am still able to stitch my own clothing and, by extension, create my own as well.

"Wisdom, meanwhile, is akin to a Master's degree in a subject. You could say that you, Amber, have Wisdom in gliding and archery, whilst in my second reincarnation, as Philip Agro Isekai Tomo, I had Wisdom in playing the violin, guitar and piano. Knowledge and Wisdom are very closely related, but I suppose it matters on the individual's understanding of such things that change it from one to the other."

He then shrugged. "I'm not sure if I helped you in the end, or completely confused you."

Amber did look like she was trying to get her head around it, but after a moment, she gave a thumbs up. "Got it! ...I think!"

"I'm glad to hear tha--"

Not finishing his sentence, Phillip suddenly whipped around and unsheathed his blade in the same motion, pointing it behind him.

Nothing was there.

'...Curious. You felt that too, yes?"

'...'

'...Hm. It seems our connection was closed. I assume Istaroth had a role in this. Rather, the only person who could have a role in this...'

"Phillip?" Amber asked, standing next to him. "Are you okay?"

"...Aye, I've been better though. Shall we continue?"

Eula nodded. "Let's."

As they stepped onwards, they suddenly heard an inhumane roar.

"...Well, shit."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hank blinked. "Well, that's not natural."

"What is it this time?" it wasn't that Collei was sick of Hank. No, far from it: she was just tired with her being incredibly cryptic at all times.

"It seems that Elemental Energy just tripled some couple of feet below us."

"...Isn't that near Amber?"

"Ye--"

Not even finishing her sentence, Collei dashed, panic on her face--

--Only to be stopped by Hank.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" Collei screamed, but Hank paid her no mind.

"Preventing you from killing yourself."

"Preven--Hank, people might die! If we don't move, then--!"

"Which is why you'd need my help."

"...Huh?"

Hank held a MEB, tilting her head to it. "I suggest you get a running start."

Collei didn't need to be told twice, quickly moving backwards. Slowly breathing in and out, dark tendrils encased her body, before settling at her feet. She quickly took off, jumping as Hank through the bomb upwards...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

...And, at that moment, the roof suddenly caved upon the monster, being put into a rocky coffin. And, from the dust, two shales emerged.

"Hello again, Master." Hank waved mildly.

Collei, meanwhile, coughed while waving the dust away.

Getting out of it, Collei was about to speak when her eyes widened.

Amber.

The two stared at the other in silence, none saying a word...

...Until Amber gingerly took a step forward. Then, Collei took a step herself.

The two then walked quickly, and embraced the other tightly.

"Collei... a-am I...? Are you...?" Amber whispered, golden eyes watery. Collei looked at her, her own purple eyes glistering.

"Hi, Amber. It's..."

Amber hugged her friend even tighter, putting her face into Collei's shoulder. "It's you... It's you...! Collei!"

"...Yeah, it's me. Amber." hugging back, the two remained embracing the other for what felt like an eternity with the other...

...Until a loud bang brought them back to reality.

Everyone turned, and found a graceful Sandrone and their god, with you on your back.

"...Heya, kid." Phillip awkwardly greeted.

"Hey, Phillip!" you smiled back.

...

After a moment you then replied, "Well, that hurt."

Sandrone quirked a smile. "Whatever happened to--?"

Her smile then vanished. Eula's Claymore was incredibly close to her face, with the Lawrence glaring at her. "You..."

"...Ah. That's rather rude of you."

"Wait wait wait!" you quickly stood up, standing in-between the two. "She's working with us!"

"That's a rather strong term. I prefer temporary partnership."

"...A Fatuus?" Collei whispered.

"Unfortunately, yes; you're currently in the presence of The Marionette, Sandrone, one of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers."

"And that's meant to deter me?"

"Yes, heavily so, in fact--"

"Okay, look: Collei, you don't like the Fatui, fair enough; Phillip, you can be both a real help and a royal pain in my ass, stop being the latter and try being the former; and Eula, Sandrone? Try to not kill each other as I explain what the hell is happening to everyone."

And so, you did. After a moment, Amber sighed, laughing weakly. "Wow, guess you've been having a few adventures yourself huh, Collei?"

"Putting it lightly, yeah, heh..." Collei then looked at you. "What's the situation?"

"Well, it's something like this, but first; Phillip, does the name 'Hilaqiis' ring any bells?"

"Hilaqiis is here?" Phillip immediately looked on edge, his eyes growing wide.

"You know him?"

"Yeah... long ago, he was one of the Four Shades created by the God of Peace; The One True God, Llizel. Among them was Istaroth, Satanael, and Xenophillius. The latter being a unique case, as he was not created by Llizel, and was instead simply given a vessel for his soul."

"...That soul is yours, isn't it." your flat look didn't match the raised eyebrows of Sandrone, the confused expression of Collei, or even the unexpressive gaze of Hank.

"...Ouch. And here I was, ready to make a long speech about it... still, you're right. But, I'm not important. Who is, however, is why a certain someone has detached themselves from my soul, and Hilaqiis is general."

"How powerful is he?" Sandrone's question made Phillip let out another sigh.

"Bluntly, we're in for a long one."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The minutes that passed felt like seconds for you, and now, you find yourself in front of a large door.

"So, this Hilaqiis; what do you mean by a 'Shade'?" Eula queried, her hands on her Claymore.

"The Four Shades were the personal creations of Llizel; well, minus me, anyhow. They were the Goddess of Time, Istaroth, the Goddess of Wealth, Satanael, the God of Song, Xenophillius, and the God of Power, Hilaqiis."

"Power? In what sense?" Sandrone has stepped off of her Automaton, and had placed her hands together near her waist.

"In physical and mental sense. With that, I ask: do you really want to get involved in this?"

"...Phillip." Collei stood in front of him. "Do you doubt us?"

"No. But do you doubt yourself?"

Collei scoffed. "A little late for that. No, I don't. It's about high time I start working for myself, this... thing inside me be damned. Phillip, Hank, Amber, Eula, and even you, Harbinger. Let's, if only for this, work together."

"Whatever happened to 'Not forgiving the Fatui, might I ask?" Hank blinked.

"Hey, I'm able to grow. Besides, it's not this Marionette I hate: it's that fucking Doctor that I want to murder."

"You certainly aren't the first." Sandrone muttered. "Well, shall we?"

"Yes," you agreed, and opened the door. "Let's finish this long quest."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the other side, you saw Hilaqiis, and your first impression was desperation.

He was leaning on a throne made of stone, and on it, was a broken puppet that looked like you.

He didn't notice you all enter, he just continued crying.

"Hilaqiis." Phillip said, and the other god jumped, looking at him.

"Xenophillius...? But how, aren't you--?"

"My death was greatly exaggerated. I've been hanging around for a while, even after Celestia wiped Khaenri'ah of the face of Teyvat. Not only that, but some time ago, I felt Celestia use its influence to nearly kill our dear Llizel. Now, how could that happen?"

"..." Hilaqiis twisted his hand. "Forgive me."

You felt like you were floating, flying past red, blue, green, and finally, purple.

Landing on your feet, you heard two other feets of feet hit the ground. Looking over, it was Eula and Sandrone.

And, in front of you, was that thing from before, its form monstrous in size, letting out a roar of fury. It through its fist out at you, and you readied a shield--

--When it howled, retrieving its arm, as Sandrone tsked, a Geo Construct piercing its hand.

"No point standing around doing nothing!" Sandrone called, her hands now at her side.

"The one time I might agree with you, wretched woman..."

"Here it comes!" you yelled, its hand slamming down on the concrete, it tumbling into a void below, and you quickly got onto it.

"Keep it pinned down! I'll try and get to it!" the two nodded, and Geo and Cryo glowed behind you.

Meanwhile, like a blade of wind, Phillip ran up the monster's arms, its many others trying to crush him but failing to. As he approached the glowing core of it, a hand attempted to crush him, just as a black and purple snake launched itself at it, biting and tearing it off, dark blood spraying from it.

"Go!" he heard Collei scream. "Me and Hank will take care of the others!"

Running, he reached it, grabbing his greatsword...

Erstwhile, Hank was shooting down the arms while Collei used her Residue to combat them. The bracers certainly did its job; it didn't hurt her at all.

"Motherfucker saw the old man and ran. What, does he and Phillip have a bad track record?" Collei asked, using the her power to create twin snakes that divided and conquered a number of smaller and thinner arms.

"I'm afraid to say Master never told me; I was created 500 years ago, long after his time as a God."

"...Llizel above." the green-haired girl cursed, glaring at the monster. "Alright you piece of shit, let's see how smug you are after I send my snakes down your throat AND PULL OUR YOUR FUCKING HEART!"

"Vengeance will be mine!"

"Let it rain!"

Despite the heat of the flames and the chill of the frost, the arms persisted, and the monster only grew in anger.

"Shit, shit, shit!" you cursed. Damnit, that monster was starting to really piss you off... you needed help, but...

'Llizel.'

Time stopped. Not even the snowflakes or the embers moved, or even Phillip, who was mid-jump backwards, his face just about to turn into an annoyed frown.

"My, Hilaqiis certainly made a mess." came a voice, your voice, as they stood at your side. "I'm honesty quite surprised you needed my help."

Llizel, The God of Peace, looked like you, stood like you, sounded like you, but wasn't you; their left eye was a crystalline blue, shinning without any hatred or negative thoughts, while their right was a molten gold, that reflected their pride, their joy, their peace.

"I'd rather not risk it." you reply, holding your left hand. On it, was nothing. On Llizel's, a small wing tattoo. (To each their own, as they say.)

"Ah, playing it safe, hm? I can respect that."

"Aren't we the same?"

"We are. And, we are not. You may be me, but I am not you." Llizel's eyes never left yours, and they put their hand out. "Well, shall we?"

You passed them their staff. "Go stop this chaos, 'Zel."

"With pleasure, 'Me'."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A flash of gold light, a ripple of green, and a flurry of white surged all at once.

The golden light was Llizel descending, and using their staff to hold the beast in place while also allowing their mortal form to appear in the real world, and attempt to stop Hilaqiis.

The green was from Collei. She may not have faith in the gods, despite being friends with the God of Teyvat themselves, and yet her ambition was shown clear to them: 'Protect and Grow'.

At that moment, either through sheer irony or a true show of will, a glowing green or appeared in Collei's hands, and vines with the sharpest thorns sprung forth, clearing a way for the white light. In addition, the bandages had all but been destroyed, showing hardened scales on her body, and sheer determination in her indigo eyes.

The white light was formed alongside other lights; Amber, firing a barrage of arrows; Eula, unleashing a large slash to the beast; Sandrone, using her mechanical guardian to shoot missiles at it; and Hank, who joined Phillip, and the two ran up the monster's body towards the sickly green core on its head.

Hank grabbed Phillip and, using her strength, threw him upwards. "Now!"

"STOP HIDING, COWARD!" the immortal roared, and as his blade cleaved the core in two, a light engulfed all of them...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Golden chains rapped around Hilaqiis, just as a light appeared and your friends stepped out.

"Just remember," Llizel whispered, standing by you, "It's our staff."

"Alright, let's start off simple," Phillip slowly made his way over to Hilaqiis, as his violet-turning-indigo meeting the God of Power's crimson. "Why do you insist on trying to kill not only us, but a Shade of Llizel and their mortal self?"

"...We have gone a long, long time without seeing our God, Xenophillius. Don't you think it's high time we--?"

BANG!

Everyone, especially Collei, jumped as Hank fired a bullet straight into his head, crimson blood exploding outwards.

"A fake." Hank simply stated.

"Yeah, I gathered; Hilaqiis wasn't the brightest, even next to Satanael, but even still... I guess that means our friends upstairs did all this."

"So that Elemental signature was a fake?" Sandrone was, once again, sat upon the hand of a Ruin Guard. Where it came from, you don't know.

"Yes and no; no, because it was a genuine one, but yes, as it was simply a copy of Hilaqiis', made by the ones up there."

"...Sorry, up where?" Eula had placed her Claymore back into the... place the characters put their weapons.

It was Collei who answered, oddly enough. "He means Celestia. Speaking of them," she put out her palm, which in it held a Dendro Vision, glowing brightly. "Thanks a lot, dickheads!"

"Wait, you have a Vision?" Amber smiled, putting her thumbs up. "Isn't that good? You have the power to protect yourself!"

"I had enough with this, thanks." at 'this', she had put her arms up, showing the bracers and the scales surrounding them.

"Ah, that..." Llizel muttered, then looked at you. "That staff may be from here, but don't forget the spells and powers you yourself gained."

You looked at them confused, before it suddenly clicked. "Wait, Collei, keep your arms up."

"Why? Want to admire them or something?" she dryly remarked, but then looked more confused as you placed the Staff of Llizel in front of them.

Slowly, a light began to accumulate near its tip, which then flowed down onto Collei's arms, which glowed a radiant silver before fading.

"There," you said, smiling at her. "That should hopefully prevent it from spreading."

"...You cured me?" Collei whispered, eyes wide in wonderment at how easy it was, and denial, as was it really that easy?

"No, they simply paused it; you may still experience symptoms similar to arthritis, but it is better than permanent paralysis, yes?"

"A~nd there goes the happy moment." Phillip groaned, making a noise between a sigh and a laugh. "Remind me to teach you how to read emotions better, ay?"

Hank just smiled, ignoring her master.

Amber also smiled, but more in exasperation. "Even still... what now?"

"Well, I can warp you two back to Mondstadt easily. Sandrone probably has their own way back, although I ask of her one favour before she does so, and it's to give this letter to someone only they can reach," he paused, giving a sealed letter to Sandrone, who nodded, before the Ruin Guard made its way out of the door.

"Next, I might go and figure some stuff out, like the whole thing with Chiyo--yes, Makoto is able to speak again, I assume it was because of interference she could not communicate with me--, the kid will probably want to explore Teyvat, the curious little shite they are, and..."

"If I may, Master," Hank gestured to Collei. "Perhaps we should allow Collei to travel with the God of Peace's mortal form? That way, she might be able to return to Sumeru while also being able to visit Amber."

"...Hm. What says you two?"

"Can I get rid of this?" Collei asked, about the Vision.

"Nope, but take it from me; any power is better than none at all; besides, being able to use it against the people who gave you it? I say that's a good thing."

"...Fine, I'll think about it."

"No complaints here!" you smiled.

"Well, no arguments?" hearing none, Phillip smiled a genuine smile. "Then, let us be off."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Well, who knows?" Phillip said, smiling at you. "More tales might arise. There's still Loux's to finish, so for now: thank you for reading this little adventure, no matter how tedious or odd it might have been. Until next time, let the earth whisper its secrets, and for you to grow. Hm? Grow into what? Well... that's up to you. It's your life, after all!"

[iamthecomet]

Hoot!

(Finally replying, heh)

I honestly really hope that the meds will work too. I‘ll keep on taking the same ones I take now and take the other ones in addition, but they actually benefit? each other (as in, both probably will work better when taken together)

I‘ll most likely start tomorrow, but it will take 4-6 weeks for them to actually make something change. And also my symptoms of like dizziness and headaches will likely get worse at the beginning (this will get better over time tho)

They can also make you feel more suicidal in the beginning (which is because they make you more aware, including more aware of problems) but that also gets better after those 4-6 weeks when the actual effects set in (the new one is a kind of antidepressant)

So like, I’m pretty nervous about that

Yeah, going outside is pretty good but also hella hard to do. Sometimes my friends manage to drag me along, which I very much appreciate (they also need to go slower when we go somewhere by bike because of me, but they do that without ever complaining, for which I’m very thankful).

And you‘re so right. In the past, I’ve sometimes not treated them very kindly because of my insecurities and how I’m scared of being a burden, which is also why I isolate myself a lot, but whenever I feel a little less bad they always welcome me with open arms (they‘re also the reason I can watch movies/series, because 2 of them are so aware of my phobias that they will make me feel safe whenever something triggering happens. It’s literally so damn good, because when I’m watching with them, I can actually enjoy watching without being constantly scared that something triggering could possibly happen)

Also seriously, the way one of them immediately offers her hand for me to squeeze while simultaneously covering my eyes is just the sweetest thing ever

But like, there are other good news I think!

I‘ve been thinking about using a cane for at least months now. I sometimes feel very dizzy, to the point of pre-syncope (even though I never actually fainted before) and especially in the past few days, I feel even more unstable when walking than I usually do. I‘m very scared to go outside, especially on my own and just really don‘t feel safe. And especially during disability pride month, people where explaining what mobility aids can be helpful for what, and dizziness was often mentioned for canes.

And I honestly really think that it would help me a lot, and give me a sense of standing/walking more safely.

I always wanted to wait because I was/am scared that I’m just telling myself all that because I want a cane to get attention.

But my dear ex roommate (and one of the sweetest people alive) actually was like “well if you‘d benefit from it, who cares even if would be partly for attention? What about attention is so bad?“

And I think that they are very right. (They also added that canes do look cool as hell and they are also very right about that. I cannot wait to put stickers all over mine if I actually get one)

So on the next appointment I’ll have with my doctor, I’ll ask her if I can get a prescription for a cane.

Oh god, this got long again. Sorry about that

At least it included a lot of (pretty) positive things I think

At least for me, engaging a lot in fandom content helped me with my post-Ritual depression (as far as it was related to that cause I got regular depression going on as well xD)

But it seems like you‘ve been doing that /pos

~ @owlishanon

Finally digging this out of my drafts SORRY! ♥ I'm so glad things have been looking up! I hope that your meds aren't too hard on you during the adjustment period, and that your side effects are minimal. I'm glad you're friends have been so supportive, and are so good to you. I've probably already said it, but real friends are going to be there for you no matter what--they love all of you (even the not as fun parts) and I'm glad you have some like that. I'm with your ex-roomate on the cane stuff. If it's going to help you, you should do it. Who cares what other people think. If it makes you feel safer, more stable, you shouldn't hesitate to get one. I hope that your conversation with your Dr. about it goes well and you can get one and that it helps! Lots of love to you, I hope things are still going well!

[yourthoughtsreallymatter]

Hi! I'm so glad I saw your blog. I've been really needing to talk about this lately but I've lacked an outlet to do so. It just feels good to get some of it out. (sorry in advance for the ramble to follow)

One of my very close friends, whom I've known for years, recently mentioned in passing that she'd gone off her depression medication. I had been speculating that she had for about a month. (it's worth noting here that when it came up she was talking about how she had no more issues with mental health etc at this point, which caught me off guard) It's ultimately none of my business and no big deal, other than that her behavior has been different enough to the point where I noticed a change. Not big, just less energized, enthusiastic, and honestly a little mean? I never doubted her decision, but the subtle changes have made me feel things about our friendship that I never have before.

I'm very sensitive, although I often don't have the luxury of feeling things fully/won't let myself until I trust someone, like the way I trust my friend. These subtle changes have made me feel awful in some ways. It makes me remember my middle/elementary school friendships and how I felt like an accessory to other girls. I didn't feel real. I thought that if I wore the wrong thing or said something they didn't agree with that no one would want to be my friend anymore. I've yet to fully process how much those experiences hurt me, but this is starting to bring a lot of these insecurities back up.

When we spend time together, I get the sense that she's annoyed with me, I'm constantly doing something wrong. Sometime's I'll get directions wrong and she's frustrated and yells a bit, or she waves me off with her hand. Sometimes she's on her phone when we hang out instead of talking to me. (Of course, some of this is bound to happen in normal friendships, but this has been constant in recent months) Then I go home and cry about it. I tell myself to spend some time away from her to regroup. We'll make plans again and I'm excited because I want to spend time with my best friend. Then I get hurt again. I would do anything in our friendship to make her happy. I'm aware that I'm making too much of the situation. I know I shouldn't take all her actions so seriously, and everyone has little moments of feeling that they need to let out.

But she makes me so sad. I love her so much and we have had many good moments, but it's become so difficult. I haven't mentioned this to her in any serious way, I've only told her after she let me know that she wasn't taking her meds that I'd had speculations. On top of the sadness, I feel so selfish. Of course I want her to be happy, but do I want her to be happy just to make me feel secure in our friendship? If she feels better now than she did before, then I can be satisfied knowing she's better off. I just don't know if I'll ever adjust, if we can still be friends in the same way. I struggle with bringing this up with her, as I don't want her to feel guilty for doing what's right for her mental health. All I want to do is the right thing for the both of us. I've been taking another break from hanging out with her, but I know I'll need to talk about this eventually. It just hurts when someone you trust is mean to you, and you have no way of defending yourself. I could be making way too much of this whole scenario, and it could ultimately have more to do with us both changing than her getting off medication. I just want to support her the best I can while minimizing hurt for myself. But I have no idea what to do now.

Oh my god is this ask long! I'm really sorry, but I extend my many many thanks if you made it all the way through. I'm not exactly sure what I'm looking for here, but writing this out has already made me feel better :)

Dealing with change in friendships + friendship dynamics

Hi anon, it means alot that you trusted enough to write this out. I can see where you’re coming from

It seems like your friend is doing better, but she could def still be struggling behind the scenes. People who are mean are often unhappy with parts of themselves. I say this from my own experiences and also from seeing others like this.

However, how she’s doing you is bogus asl. Even if she’s doing that out of her own emotions or issues, it is no excuse to treat you badly. And I think it’ll continue if you keep allowing it

The next time you feel she mistreats you, CALL IT OUT. Dont let it slide. Obvs don’t be rude towards her but politely and firmly tell her you don’t like that she did that. If she brushes off your confrontation, she doesn’t fr respect you. I think some communication will help you

People change. For worse or for better. I understand that you have a big attachment to her tho since she’s been your friend for so long. I think your view of her is more rooted in the past. This can cause resentment from her, in the past I resented my old friends for only viewing me as the past version of myself when I was a much different person by then. That may be the case for your friend. And you likely changed too. This isnt a bad thing ofc but it will affect your friendship with her

If she continues mistreating you, don’t be afraid to give up the friendship. Sometimes the best thing you can do is walk away, esp when a friendship has caused you sm stress and trouble.

With what you said about being insecure about being friends with other girls, I get what you mean. I became pretty and many girls wanted to be my friend specifically cause of that. It made me worry that if i made one wrong mistake, they wouldn’t fw me anymore. But if someone is a fr friend, small things wouldn’t matter. Keep that in mind.

Also, I had a friendship similar to yours where I had lots of good moments with the girl but I also felt lots of hurt when she mistreated me. I cared too much about it and I constantly chased after her friendship and approval, and it ruined my confidence and self esteem. Eventually, she ended up ghosting me. While I don’t regret the friendship, what I did regret the most was being too emotional and putting in energy for someone who jus wasn’t feeling me. And in the end I didn’t resent her for not reciprocating. If this happened to me now, I would have just taken it for what it is and left her alone. I think detachment helps you alot, even if it is someone you really care about. If you leave thijgs be and take them for what they are, it saves alot of stress HAHA

If you want to talk more, feel free to dm me. I got you

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Paradise Circus - Chapter Nine.

I really cannot begin to even describe my joy when I read your comments over this story, besties! I’m so thrilled you love Tommy and Darla as much as I do. I’m so invested in telling their story, so to see that enthusiasm reflected back is amazing :) 

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 2,730

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. NO MINORS, PLEASE!

“You and Tommy?”

“Yes.”

“Really, you and Tommy? The skinny little strip of a boy who I perpetually wanted to feed, because he was so small when he was ten?”

“He isn’t so small any longer, ma. Hold on.” Much like she had with her friends, she took her phone out and called up one of the Sparta Tournament promo shots, turning the screen to her mother. “This is him now.”

“Good lord,” she began, taking her glasses from her head to examine the image closer. “He’s the size of a small rhino!”

“He’s a little bigger than that now, actually. Like the hulk.”

Nancy shook her head in wonder at how much she had to adjust her mental picture of him. Of course, he’d grown up, but how much he’d grown outwards was definitely a surprise. “Hold up, you said you don’t get on with him now? What has changed there? You two used to be inseparable.”  

“What’s changed is the fact we’re two very different people as adults. We reconnected at a coffee shop where I happened to run into him, he offered to take me out and it was there that I discovered we’ve virtually no bond any longer. Adulthood, time, different lives, they all contributed to us in becoming very different people, but the one connection we do have is what lead to me currently being in the mess I now find myself in,” she explained, Nancy nodding as she handed her phone back.  

“Does he know?”

“Yeah, I told him last night.”

“And what are his thoughts?”

“He’s leaning to not wanting to be a father, or at least not with me because of the fact we’re so different. He’s speaking sense there, we’re so volatile together, and we’re not even together. Bringing a child into it would be very difficult, it’d be a disaster, I think, but I don’t know. We sometimes have these moments where we’re suddenly in tune, but I question whether it’s enough to start a family with him, knowing that we’ll never be together. He also says he wants to be respectful to me since I’m the one who it ultimately lands on, to either have an abortion or carry it for the next nine months. That was good of him, I have to say.”

Nancy nodded, smiling warmly. “His heart always was in the right place. So, what are your feelings, my love? I know your stance on abortion, of course, so this must be causing a lot of conflictions.”

“It really is, for all of the above reasons. I know he isn’t the right person to do this with, the situation and the time just not ideal, but then I feel such a tremendous guilt when I imagine halting it. I’m not far along, so I could take a pill and it just goes away like a heavy period, but hell, it isn’t that tiny little life in there’s fault that it’s would-be father and I were careless.”

“Bringing a new life into this world is a huge responsibility, Darla, but I do think you could manage it. Are these issues you have with Tommy really not anything that couldn’t be easily ironed out with a little more communication? I’m not saying you guys have to get together, family comes in so many different forms these days, after all, but surely you could work on it, be good friends raising a child together, if this is truly what you want?” Nancy suggested, stroking her daughter’s arm supportively.

Darla took a moment to think on her words. If they both cared to admit their bull-headed natures a little more, perhaps they could find a way through it, raise the child in an environment not fraught with hostility and constant disagreements. “Perhaps.”

“Maybe try spending some more time with him, and then see?”

Her mother’s suggestion was not only the simplest, but would also prove the most effective in wondering how possible it could be for them to put aside their differences, or if they even could at all. “How far along are you, exactly?”

“Six weeks, or thereabouts,” Darla confirmed.

“There, it means you have plenty of time to make a decision, so try not to panic about it until you’ve put a little more effort into resolving your issues with Tommy first.” It made perfect sense, Darla thanking her for such sage advice before they continued to enjoy their afternoon, talking of times gone past, when she and Tommy were still kids and he seemed to perpetually always be in their old house, he and Darla commandeering the lounge every Saturday when the wrestling was on being one of Nancy’s particularly favourite memories.  

Darla left at 6pm, wanting to get home semi-early so she could be reasonably fresh for her 6am start, indulging in an extra half an hour in bed all the same the following morning, sending a text to Tommy to see when he was free next.  

‘I can do Thursday?’

Shit, her pilates class night. Sending another text saying it was a no go, she suggested Friday, pouring almond milk over her cereal and taking a few mouthfuls while she waited for his reply.  

‘Friday is a no go. I have a date, but I’m free Saturday morning.’

A date?

Immediately, her mind began to spin. Okay, so they weren’t together, weren’t even anything close to it, in fact, but how the hell could he even think of dating someone else at a time like that, when he could be potentially having a child with her? Again, she knew she had zero claim to him and he was free to date whoever he pleased, but even thinking of opening herself up to something with another person was about the last thing Darla was capable of at that moment.  

It also meant one thing. He truly saw no future with her at all. Of that, he must have been very adamant. Was she a fool? Or rather, was she fooling herself into even daring to wonder if the little moments of them finding themselves on the same page might just lead to more? She truly didn’t know what to think, there, firing back a text at him before giving herself pause for her swirling emotions to settle.

‘Well, I suppose it depends on how well your date goes, if you’ll be free Saturday, doesn’t it??’  

Five minutes passed before her phone rang.

“Are you getting pissy with me because I have a date?” Tommy asked, Darla trying to keep herself reined in.

“No! Why would I be?” Her slightly barked reply confirmed the tone of her text to him, Tommy sighing, regretting telling her. Given the circumstances, he’d wanted to be honest with her.  

“You sure sound anything but,” he observed. “Listen, it isn’t anything against you, alright? This girl, I’ve liked her for a long time, she became single again recently and asked me for a drink, and there you have it. We know we don’t work, so I didn’t think it’d be a problem for you,” he continued to explain, Darla feeling herself become tightly wound.  

“It isn’t a problem. I just thought, well, you know, with everything going on that it’d be the last thing you’d be looking for,” she explained, hanging onto her temper. Why was she even mad, though? Why? It made no sense.

“If you feel that way about yourself, then that’s up to you. But you don’t get to dictate my life, okay? I’m fine with it, and if we end up having the kid, I’ll only not be fine with it if Cassie isn’t, then she’s out the door. Who knows, I might end up butting heads with her as much as I do you, though,” he explained, amused at the end.

“Do you think this is funny?”

“I think you getting angry with me is. What, you don’t want me, but no one else can have me either?”

His tone there was so cocky, Darla lost it immediately.

“Fuck you, Tommy!” She hung up before he could say anything else likely to piss her off, but the damage was done. Her mood was now set to foul, eating the remainder of her cereal angrily. 7pm and already, she was vexed. It did not bode well for her day ahead.  

“What kind of a bullshit name is Cassie?” she shouted behind the wheel of a car, forty minutes later and still no calmer. She hated to admit it, but she was suddenly suffering a case of extreme jealousy. Why? Cassie might be more compatible with him, and then where would that leave her? No longer receiving regular doses of the best sex of her life, is where it would leave her. “God, I’m so fucking selfish and superficial! Why am I even mad? I don’t want him as a boyfriend, but I’m angry because I might not get to fuck him any longer? Jesus. I need to get a fucking hold of myself. I’m a professional young woman, I’m articulate and intellectual. I am most certainly above this behaviour!”

She could give herself a thousand thorough talking’s to, though, but acknowledged that they likely wouldn’t go very far to quelling her anger. It was herself she was mad at the most, no one else, although she went back and forth with being mad at Tommy for seemingly being in the right headspace to go on a date with someone else, not bothered enough by the fact she was pregnant to let it get in the way of his life, like it was doing with hers.  

“I don’t know, is he a complete man bastard, to coin one of your expressions, or am I overreacting? I mean, this is the only thing on my mind, and he’s out there waving his dick around at any woman who gives him the nod!” she virtually screeched at Aimee over lunch, salt and pepper flying everywhere but her plate as she shook the shakers over her pasta, clanging the glass containers down again, the pepper placed back with such little caution, it toppled off the table completely.

“Easy, easy!” Aimee advised, picking up the shaker and placing in back next to the salt. “There’ll be no breaking of things. Now, breathe, put these down and just breathe.” Taking her knife and fork from her, she put them at the side of her plate, grasping Darla’s hand. “In for four, and out for four. Come on, work with me.”  

She coached her through the breathing exercise, discreetly sliding her thumb to Darla’s wrist, waiting until her pulse began to calm down a little. “There, better now?”

“Yes, a little. I’m sorry I got so worked up, it’s just that... oh... everything!”

“I know, I get it. You’re pregnant and hormonal, it happens, it’s not a big deal, don’t get upset about being emotional. Now, while I want to initially say that yes, he’s a man bastard for evoking how you’re feeling, there is a side of me that says the sensible truth is that you guys aren’t involved on a deeper level. You made no commitment to one another, not before or in the wake of the pregnancy. But it’s tricky, I get that.  

“It’s consuming you because you’re the one who is pregnant and not him, and while I do think that he might have lacked some tact this morning, still, you can’t tell him that he cannot go out there and date. Tommy’s responsibility to you ultimately begins and ends with the baby, if there actually will be one or not,” Aimee explained gently, Darla finally calming down enough to take a mouthful of her puttanesca.  

“You’re right, of course, you’re right,” she began, swallowing her mouthful, sipping her soda water. What she wouldn’t have done for a glass of the Merlot Aimee had chosen to accompany her strip steak and fries. “I just hate that it’s got me so worked up! And that he seemed entertained by it!”

“You don’t think,” Aimee began, pausing for a moment, “that he’s doing this to try and make you jealous? You know, force your hand?”

“He said as much himself that, to use his very words, ‘we know we don’t work’, so it’s doubtful. Besides, Tommy isn’t calculating. He’s very straight up, doesn’t have agendas. I mean, I think he does like to get a reaction out of people at times, he did confess once it can be something he dislikes about himself, but I just don’t see why he would when he’s acknowledging that we don’t work,” she surmised, sighing.  

“No, this is true. Men aren’t nearly as complicated with mixed messages or hidden feelings as we’d like to sometimes believe they are. Oh, hon. Still though, despite anything else it must be a kick in the teeth for you, him being so carefree and you in a mess about it. Unless, that is, we’re overlooking something glaringly obvious here?”  

Aimee paused, seeing if Darla would come to her same conclusion. “What, that he’s distracting himself with this Cassie girl?”

Bingo. “Yeah, exactly that. I think you guys could do with a talk.”

Darla snorted, feeling embarrassed at her 7am temper tantrum. “I told him to go fuck himself before hanging up. I doubt talking to me is anything he wants right now.”

Aimee could see it in her face, that she was mostly livid with herself for losing her cool, nodding as she sipped her wine. “Leave it a few days, then. Let the dust settle and give yourself time to cool down as well. In the meantime, though, I have the perfect thing for you to let your rage out on. Obie has finally talked me into going to his boxing gym for a workout, and I think you should come! It’s short notice, I know, but I’ll be meeting him there at 8pm tonight for my third session.”

Obie was Aimee’s ex, the first guy she’d dated after her marriage had come to an end just over two years ago. Because of the bitter divorce she’d gone through, she truly hadn’t been ready for a relationship, but Obie was such a nice guy that they’d remained firm friends.  

“Are you sure boxing is a good idea in my current condition?” Darla asked, taking another mouthful of her pasta.

“He just coaches me on the punchbags and then does a little with the focus mitts, there’s no actual one on one. Come on! It’ll be fun!”

Getting to hit something inanimate to take out her frustrations did sound perfect, Darla eventually agreeing. Once their lunch was done, they kissed goodbye, the novice boxer heading back to the law firm she would be making notes through a long deposition for the afternoon, and the complete beginner returning for afternoon lectures, finishing up at 4pm.  

She headed home and got into her gym gear early, sitting at her laptop grading papers while eating a tofu salad for an early dinner, not wanting to work out on a full stomach. She was actually quite looking forward to her evening, glad that Aimee had mentioned it. Plus, she got to see Obie again, whom she thought was utterly amazing, sad that Aimee and he hadn’t worked out as a couple. It was a problem her bestie had found a lot, the fact that she didn’t want children, that reason causing the demise of her marriage to John, and then later a contributing factor to the demise of her relationship with Obie, who very much wanted to be a father.  

Feeling pricked as she thought about fathers, naturally turning back to the father of the tiny little clump of cells within her womb, Darla tried to cast it from her mind, concentrating on the screen before her until it was time to leave.  

“What’s up, baby cakes! How you been? Aww, man. It’s real great to see you!” Obie greeted her with warmly upon her entrance to the gym, Darla having to stand on her tiptoes to hug the giant of a man. Looking over his well-defined shoulder as she hugged him warmly, she could barely believe her eyes. There, in the ring sparring, was Tommy, soaked in sweat, taking his opponent down with ease. Fuck.  

His was honestly the lasty face she wanted to see that evening.  

A/N - Now, here’s the really, really important part. Did you enjoy it? If so, please don’t just redundantly click that heart. Reblog it. Also, I love to engage with my readers, so a little comment would not go amiss either! Doesn’t have to be long, just reach out. I’m all about building community here and there is nothing more lovely than readers and writers supporting one another!  

[milascenta]

28th April 2:50pm

I'm back at my parents house now, fully moved back. I have my cat and she's doing well, she's always quick to adjust she just doesn't like too haha. Same with me to be fair. My childhood cat doesn't like her at all, but she doesn't like any other cat lol. You would love my cat, she's big and fluffy and has lil legs. She's been a big light in my life since I got her. She knows where ever she is, as long as it with me then she's ok. And I try and show her that too. She likes to collect toy fish and bring them too me, meowing to tell me that she did it. So try to hide them around so she can go and find them and bring them to me again.

I'm trying to think of things to do that coincide with my values and directions I want to take. I have a couple ideas that are very creative and will get me doing things out of my comfort zone as well. I've been studying again and that has been making me feel mixed feelings, its what I want to do but I feel torn by it not being an instant money maker that will help me move out, like I feel some of the people around me want me to do. It feels weird being back here, all the memories and feelings. Its hard to process things and try to be a functioning adult. I'm just trying not to be hard on myself.

There are things I want to do and accomplish and feel like I really can, I've gotten some good advice from one of my best friends (he's doing something similar too) and he thinks I should go for it, there really isn't a downside you know if it works it works if it doesn't then I can still do it but not have it be a major focus. I want to create more things, music, maybe videos and live streaming and I might draw again. I've set up my room with cool lights, and a corner with a big desk that can fit my monitors. And I understand how it sounds, I'm not saying I'll start making videos and become mega famous, all I want to do is make things and have fun and it sounds fun and creative you know.

I thank you for you kind words and support. I'm glad you like TVD, its one of my favourites. But don't worry too much about it, it doesn't last long and I've been making steps to more recognise it. Because you're right processing emotions and situations is what humans do, and I have to remind myself that I am human and not some unfeeling ghost. I feel like small steps to build my foundations again is something I can do now. I know you would look after me if you were close, but really thats ok. You do more from afar than some people do really close. I really hope to start living for myself, and not constantly thinking if this is what someone else wants me to do, or even getting "permission" from other people that it is something I can do. Don't worry you make sense, you always do. I understand writing like this can seem word vomity but it isn't, its just us talking.

I'm sorry to here your old job wasn't great. I completely understand what you mean with you manager. I had one exactly the same last year. He didn't seem to understand the high turnover rate for the jobs was because of him, even when people told it to him to his face. I guess some people are like that, given a small amount of power and they completely run with it. I'm glad you go you got out though and hope your next job is a lot more comfortable and towards your values because you deserve that. You deserve so much, always will. Don't worry if you need to take time too, going through something like that at your last job is no joke so I hope you can spend this time to process it and move on peacefully too. And I'm here for you too. I'm glad you had fun in london and got to meet that actor, and I'm more glad that they turned out to be cool and remembered you a little too. I love that description too. I bet they are really nice photos. I love that you have someone so into more obscure and underground music there too. It makes me smile to know you have people around you that you can have fun with and properly connect with. Please get back into bass and more musicy things, I love your singing voice and I know you would love bass again, that is sooo nice of them to refurbish a bass for you too. I know you wouldn't stop writing even with not equipment its just apart of you, N. Your red hair looks beautiful, normally it looks amazing but I know you love red so it just looks more you.

I hope to be able to post better things in the future, more positive things. I'll start with a gig we played last weekend. It was in Canberra again, and was probably one of the best gigs we've played, not only did we play really well but we also played to pretty much all new people and we even poached people from the other gig happening next door. I think I did my best talking to people too, even one of my bandmates said so. Someone even came up to me and said they aspire to play bass like me. I just kinda froze and was like "I mean I wouldn't if I was you but you know to each their own" lol it was fun. I've never gotten compliments like that so it was weird haha. It was just a fun night with good bands and good vibes.

I hope you're doing good, and I hope this finds you well. I hope it gives you more insight into how I'm feeling and what I'm doing and I will try to not disappear for long again. You really do help, I want you to know that, your words bring me peace and they have a certain presence with them too.

"We were washed in stormy waters of red and gold We were held in stormy skies above the road We were meant to let ourselves into, let it go Never wanted to be here"

[andswarwrites]

Day 13

 Part Four: Stacey is Bipolar (getting the hang of things, at last)

Shortly before I was hospitalised and diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I pleaded with my husband to ask one thing of me, and he asked me to be stable.  My heart sank at that request, because I felt it was impossible.  It's not impossible.  There's just a learning curve.  And you can't do it on your own.  You need to accept support.  In my case, I got a lot of support from the very beginning.  My psychiatrist, my therapist, my family, my friends who are as close as family.  I was surrounded with care and consideration.

For my part, all I had to do was cooperate and take one day at a time.  That may not seem like much, but it's enough.  I wrote while in the throes of psychosis, as well as when I was first recovering, and then when I was well on my way to recovery, and all three stages are visible.  What I have learned from re-reading what I wrote is that, like a waking dream, everything makes sense to you while you're dreaming, even though it's splintered and scattered and forever unravelling, and when you first wake up, it still makes sense, but as you reflect and remain awake you see the dream for what it was: a collection of visions and storylines that kept shifting like sand.

My dose of medication had to be adjusted, so I had to have regular blood tests and regular appointments.  As time passed, my mind slowly stitched itself back together.  I participated in some recommended activities and courses.  And mainly I learned patience.  Being discharged from the hospital does not mean that you are fully healed from a psychosis.  The first time, I thought it did, so I tried to resume life like the whole ordeal had never taken place.  I quickly learned that you don't magically heal from something like that.

It takes weeks, then months, then years, of taking your meds, evaluating how you feel, gauging what you can do, embracing healthy habits, getting sufficient sleep and rest.  I'm a bookworm, and I used to be able to devour a book in an afternoon.  Now, even a graphic novel tires me after a few pages.  And it's been years now since those psychoses happened.  I have to pace myself, and not take on too much.  But these limitations don't dishearten me.  My reality is who I am right now, if that makes any sense.

What I mean is: I do my best to not dwell on good things from the past, because there were bad things too; I focus on what I can be grateful for in my present situation, and I do hold out hope for an even better future.  That is what I consider to be a balanced perspective.  And I focus on what I can control: I can remember to faithfully take my medication.  I keep a little three compartment pill organizer in my handbag, just in case I don't get home in time to take those pills in the evening.

Another thing I can control is my attitude.  If I had a choice, I would obviously choose to not be bipolar, but what choice do I have? I choose to make the best of my situation.  On a bad day, I think "Maybe tomorrow will be better."  And if tomorrow is worse, I think "This is just a low period, I'll make it through."  And then I make it through.  Even though I take medication, that medication only tempers the highs and lows, it doesn't make them vanish completely.

I asked S- which he prefers, the highs or the lows, and he told me that when I'm on a high, I'm fun, and when I'm on a low I'm cuddly.  So even though I'm not perfectly stable, in his eyes I'm stable enough.  The therapist I was seeing retired and I made the decision not to replace her.  She had seen me through the worst of it, and she bestowed upon me so many tools to help me cope with life.  And she did so gently, simply through discussion, and asking questions to make me come to my own conclusions.

When I see my psychiatrist I basically bring him up to speed on what is going on with me.  We go over my last blood test, he asks me a few questions and I answer them honestly.  Then I leave.  He's told me several times that a lot of individuals with bipolar disorder stop their medication because they can't live without the highs.  I don't get that at all.  I cannot relate.  I mean, experiencing a manic episode can lead to some funny stories, like redecorating your bedroom in the middle of the night, and you do feel this incredible combination of joy and power, but I feel the cost is too high.

If we look at mental health the way we look at physical health, how do we become and remain healthy?  Good, daily habits are the foundation.  For physical health, we need to stay active, eat well, drink enough water, avoid stress and get sufficient sleep.  I find those habits go hand in hand with mental health.  Just add healthy relationships, healthy self-care, and reasonable expectations of yourself and others.  I also find I need a routine, but if that routine is too rigid, I collapse, so it needs to have enough flexibility and variety for me to keep it up.

How do I conclude?  If there's one thing I'm bad at, it's ending a story.  Every once in a while, the perfect ending comes along and writes itself, but most often, I just abruptly end my tale, leaving things unresolved.  But that's because it's not really the end, it's a stopping point.  I'm only thirty-five, who knows where I'll be at in five, ten years, not to mention fifteen or twenty.  I can plan, to a certain extent, but this story of me being bipolar will continue to unfold and I will learn more and more as I go on.  So for now, let's close the topic and move on.  And thank you so much for reading.

[mental-health-advice]

hello! i’ve been struggling with feelings of worthlessness, helplessness, dejection, suicidality, and i’m completely unmotivated. the thing is i currently take medication for these issues and i have been doing so for about a year. i take prozac 10mg everyday at a consistent time, and i’ve still found no way around how i’ve been feeling for around two months now. i use to go to therapy but i feel like my therapist low key ghosted me and i haven’t heard from her since the end of last december. i don’t know what to do with myself anymore. i feel utterly disappointed and dissatisfied with myself and i truly feel as if i don’t deserve anything in life. i feel so unwanted in this world, as if everyone’s life would’ve been better if i hadn’t been born. i think i might reach out to a new therapist or get on some new prescriptions but i just don’t know what to do with myself anymore. how are we supposed to live in this world filled with superficial friends and unforgiving competition, because i truly don’t know anymore.

Hey there,

Whilst being on medication can be really helpful, it sounds as though what you are currently on is not being of much use to you and so I would definitely encourage you to go back to your prescribing doctor and ask for a medication review. It may be something as simple as adjusting your dosage, adding another medication to the mix or changing medications all together. I know that changing medications can seem daunting but please me patient if your doctor wants to change your medication as there are a lot out there and it can be at times trial and error to find the best one for you and the right dosage that really helps you and how you are feeling overall.

Seeking therapy again also sounds like a great idea but again I know how difficult it may be due to the fact that your last therapist lost contact with you for whatever reason. If you can though, try to see a different therapist but again be mindful that all therapists work in different ways and so like medication, different therapists work for different people if that makes sense.

In regards to feeling as though you have little to no motivation and are feeling completely dissatisfied with your life, could you try to focus on the positives in your life? So for example, even if it’s something really small, the good things that may make you smile make you happy, even if it’s just for a spilt second. These moments, no matter how small they are can really have an impact on your overall mental health in a positive way and especially if you remind yourself of them on a regular basis. Doing something small each day can also be helpful, even if you have to force yourself to do it. Routine is also of upmost importance, so doing things such as getting dressed, doing some chores or other things you need to do each day and getting yourself out of the house can be really helpful to put yourself in a better headspace. I know that this doesn’t and will not come easily though but with time and practice it will become easier, it’s just something you have to work towards and just trying to take each day as they come.

I really hope that these things have helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any way!

I’m thinking of you and hope that you are going well!

Take care,

Lauren

[scaryjr]

@martyrnal asked : REFLECT

send REFLECT for me to explain a traumatic event in my muses’s past and talk about their perception of events,  which parts have stayed with them longest and how it affects them now.  (  sender can request specific scenes/backstory  )

am i gonna use this to talk about scary and terry bc i feel like people do not Understand why she is so distant toward him and i need people to understand ?? yes, yes i am.

so a lot of this is my own headcanon bc s2 is still pretty early, early enough that we don’t have all the little details of the kids backstories yet, so what we know about scary’s biological father is that he left when she was very young and she cared about him a lot but he is fully out of the picture. i think that there was more to that, that scary nearly idolizes this man that left her and her mom, and she won’t let him have any negative traits at least not major ones. he is the good guy who had to go, it was her fault he left, she’s the problem and she desperately wants to try and rectify that. she does it in many ways - joining soccer, listening to metal bands she may not even like, etc. she was doing everything she can to bring him back, because if he came back she would be worth loving again. scary said herself, she hasn’t learned to love herself in the 15 years she’s been alive, and a large part of that is because the one person who was suppose to love her unconditionally, who was suppose to be there and support her and help her through life left. if she was so easy to leave, there must have been a reason for it, right?

in walks terry jr. and for those of you who don’t know, terry is just the fucking best. he’s an absolute dork, ( which honestly i think some of ron rubbed off on him and i love that ), his mom was a therapist so this is maybe the most well adjusted kid of the group ( i say of the group as there are still some moments i say looking pointedly at i guess i’m immortal now i’m going to go kill my abusive and narcissistic grandfather when he was NOT EVEN REMOTELY IMMORTAL ), and all he wants is scary to love him ( which is a direct parallel to early s1 and ron trying to get terry to love him and terry wanting nothing to do with ron and the line “ it’s almost as if you can love and love someone and no matter what you do they don’t love you back” but that’s ANOTHER analysis post ) and scary is just not having it at this point. terry being there means there is no room for her father to come back. terry being there means she’s failed to earn her father’s love and if she’s failed doing that, then why would anyone love her? scary is firmly under the impression that love has to be earned, it isn’t freely given, and she doesn’t trust a lick of it when terry just offers his love on a silver platter for her. it doesn’t make sense. and slowly, with the help of her friends, she is starting to realize that love can be freely given and you don’t have to earn it, but it’s going to be a slow process, especially if willy is also in her ear and he’s the king of horrible, shitty parenting. 

scary does care about terry, a lot, but she can’t let him care about her and she can’t just accept his love. “i haven’t learned to love myself in fifteen years, what gives you the right to try in 8 months” it doesn’t compute with her, and also, what’s stopping him from leaving just the way her father did ?? this girl has so much trauma surrounding a father’s love for their daughter she only knows how to be hostile to terry and until she learns that love doesn’t have to be earned or stolen, she’s going to continue to be a bit hostile.