#she's (e)special(ly depressed)

[freddos616]

andre deflecting his self hatred onto cate and jordan. he's so awful, i love him.

[writingsofanobsessedwoman]

A Love of Steel: Shay Cormac

*contains a mention of suicide and depression*

You hammered away at your latest design. A new hidden blade for Shay. You were one of the best blacksmiths in New York, and it hadn't taken long for the Assassins to notice your work. You were quickly commissioned, learning all the working of the hidden blade, and mastering its design. This particular blade wasn't a requested one, but rather a gift. Shay's birthday was a few days away, and you wanted to give him something special. As you lowered the short blade into the oil, your thoughts turned towards him. Most of the Assassins assumed the two of you were lovers. You were closer than most siblings, and you were hoping you could confess your feelings to the Irishman through this blade.

That was a year ago. Shay, as you'd been told by Liam, had committed suicide after going to Lisbon. It took you months to even try and move on. The blade still sat on your bedside table, finished, but never given to him. You kept it as a reminder of him. After his death, you stopped working for the Assassins altogether, being unable to bear the thought of him no longer being around. But, your work had still caught the attention of people all around New York. Folk constantly poured in, wanting swords and even guns, a recent addition to your mastery. Not only could you forge some of New York's finest weapons, you could also add personal details like names, dates, or sometimes small pictures. Something that kept demand high, and money flowing. You were prosperous, to say the least.

Things had been rather slow so far in the month. You had still sold some pieces, but autumn was usually when things began slowing down. You would usually get a new surge of orders once winter hit, though, with Christmas and all. It was the second of September when a tall man walked in, asking about getting a sword and dagger set made for a friend. A set like that was unusual, to say the least. Most people wanted matching pistols or a single sword, but given the pay, you had no objections. The man, with his smooth British accent, began asking about your custom work. As you explained what you could do, he asked for you to inscribe a name into the sword, Cormac. You tried to hide the shock on your face as you scribbled it down into your notes. The man had also wanted it done by September 12th, and delivered to Fort Arsenal that morning, something you were happy to do.

It took you around two weeks, and you'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't proud of the pieces. Both blades shone, and were sharp enough to cut through just about anything. You'd inscribed Cormac through the sword, choosing to add the cross design to the dagger. As you neared the fort, the sound of a party reached your ears. You could see a ship docked nearby, but chose not to pay much mind to it. As you went to knock on the door, the man who had ordered the set came around, asking you to follow him. You complied, and rounded the corner. The smell of liquor and beer slapped your nose, and music was being played by a small band of people. The man walking with you, whose name was Haytham as you found out, called out to the rowdy men to grab their attention. They all stopped, and began walking over. Haytham scanned them all, before asking a simple question: "Where is Shay?" Shay? You thought. This has to be some strange coincidence. They all stayed quiet for a moment, before one finally spoke up, replying with, "Inside, sir." Haytham turned to you, and apologized, asking you once more to follow him.

He led you inside, and once he reached a specific door, Haytham knocked. An Irish brogue answered, giving permission to enter. A man with dark brown hair looked up, and froze when he met your (E/C) eyes. He stood slowly, walking up to you as if you'd run away if he moved too quickly. Haytham, now thoroughly confused, broke the silence. "Do you know her/him, Shay?" he asked. "Aye do. But I fear he/she doesn't quite recognize me, sir. (Insert a nickname)," he addressed you. Tears began flooding your eyes. Shay was the only one you ever let get away with calling you that. Anyone else got a punch. "Oh, don't cry. I'm here," he cooed. You were sobbing now. "I- I thought-," you stuttered. Shay wiped away your tears, pulling you to his chest. "I promise lass/lad, I'll explain everything. I'm not leaving you. Ever. Not again." You could hear resolve in his voice. You pulled away from his chest, only for him to grab your cheek, and pull you into a kiss. One turned to several, and you only separated when Haytham cleared his throat. Your face flushed more than you thought was possible, and Shay had the widest smile on his face. You remembered his gift, held in Haytham's hands. Haytham gave you a knowing look, passing the leather wrapped blades to you. Before he excused himself, he sighed, saying, "Perhaps it's better you give him this. And don't keep us waiting for too long, Captain Cormac." Shay blushed, but turned to you. You revealed his new blades to him, and his eyes filled with wonder. For a moment, anyway. He set them onto his desk, and pulled you into another kiss, and another, and another. Not even the band in the courtyard could play loudly enough to cover the noise.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHAY PATRICK CORMAC!!!!

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

yknow, if there's one piece of advice I can give to people who don't have special needs in school, it's that DO NOT under any circumstance, idek (???) apply to be a scribe/writer for a special accommodations kid just to solely get out of class.

I had this happen to me in year 11 or 12, when the public school I was at, as well as the nsw education board, were adamant that the ONLY way I was to ever sit my hsc (end of high school) exams and pass, was to have a scribe. and a scribe only since no one would take the time & effort to EVER read my OWN hand written responses if I chose to do them by handwriting only.... and also that the education board kept outright refusing my access to a laptop bc "exams are meant to be handwritten only!!!! this student obvs wants an easy way to do her exams and wants to cheat!!!!" and "obvs this student, her teachers, her GP and the occupational therapists we made her see..... are all lying that she kid NEEDS a laptop accommodation for her exams to let her have a chance of succeeding.... so instead, we'll give her depression and anxiety so bad that she won't bother studying, lol."

so the first couple of scribes i had were good, bc they were in the year below me, and so, didn't know me. they told me to take my time and breathe etc etc. all around being supportive. however, one girl who had volunteered to be my scribe was originally in my year, but forced to repeat bc she'd missed too much class or whatever. moreover, she never liked me bc of the ~stuck up catholic school bitch~ thing that some people still held against me even after I'd been there for a while and was nice to everyone.

but what did this girl's dislike of me lead her to say??? she demanded of me, for my ancient history or w/e the fuck exam she had to write for me, that: "can you just hurry the fuck up and get this done so I can GET TO LUNCH ON TIME???? bc I only signed up for this to get out of class and get extra lunch time if you're quick. its not my fault you're *the R word*."

like Sally. you full well know HSC exams are long. ancient history was 2 or 3 hrs, I can't remember now. of course you're going to miss lunch. why the fuck did you even bother signing up for this, if you actually D O N T want to help people, let alone help someone you don't like???? wow. what a kind soul you are, you dumb ass. I don't give a fuck if you want to miss class. you signed up to help, so get writing. you selfish ass bitch.

anyway, I took my precious, painstaking time in this exam mostly out of spite for this bitch, bc i didn't think she deserved to have lunch on time when she'd signed up to help people for the full exam time. and also for calling me the *R word*. like I get that. it was 2012/2013, and I'd had people call me it plenty at catholic school too, for being related to the special ed dept. but there was NO REASON to call me that right before my exam that you signed up to help me with.

as an aside, I was practically a low needs special needs student. all I wanted was a fucking laptop for my exams. but instead, I had to settle for this fucking cow, who actually didn't give a fuck if she made me fail or not.

anyway. my point is, if you sign up to help any type of special needs student at school or at uni, have some fucking empathy and patience for the other person. having a scribe should NEVER be an option in exams, in my opinion, because it's impossible to relate coherent thoughts under exams stress. or at least it is for me. and esp as someone who used to do writing as a hobby in high school, this was like purposely cutting off my arms, which I could ACTUALLY use and also the direct brain connection to: brain to arm, to hand and pen, to paper. I fucking L O A T H E D it so much, and esp in the case of this girl.

like yes I did end up getting a laptop, which ended up being pretty pointless anyway (diagrams in entertainment industry and biology and doing double the work for multiple choice).... but still. I have this experience buried in my brain whenever I think about how shit special accommodation organisation can be for exams for special ed kids. don't sign up if you don't actually WANT to help, and instead want to do it solely to get out of your classes and expect early and extra break times.

[finallydelight]

ming was a bit out of line for the comments and not realizing that her actions were gonna hurt not only her but yeonjun and mark, AND the members as well HOWEVER ngl some of the members did cross the line (specially hyung line) with the way they treated mark in the beginning. and the other two instigators too. it’s understandable that they would care about her because they met when she was young but omg did they treat everyone else they same way or just her because she’s A WOMAN??? idk I grew up with overprotective older brothers and i get some of her actions so i don’t really blame her for lying about who she was hanging out with. they also need to understand that they can’t protect her from everything and should always be supportive (not with having hoes right) but yeah it was heartbreaking. i hope she can get the chance to explain herself to mark and yeonjun and she still gets the chance at love (markming nation 😭) and also clears the air with the members, and that ALL parties apologize because she also deserves a fucking apology. ok that’s it ig omg i’m sorry it’s so long… n e ways i loved this i love your writing and your mind and let’s go markmingers!!

Ming is a complex character and I didn't want to make her out to be like the most angelest angel ever, because we all make mistakes in life and have regrets. the same way goes for the other members.

I do want to make it clear that the ONLY reason why some of the members are that protective over her is because the previous time she got that close to someone, they broke her heart and she was depressed because of that for a long time. so, when they saw her get the same way with mark, obviously they didn't want the same outcome for her.

don't apologize for it being long ! its nice to see people are so passionate about this and have opinions ! thank you so much for this and for your kind words at the end <3

[tangerinecreamsicle]

costa rica p1

I went to an 8-day retreat in the costa rican mountains by myself. I'm not sure what compelled me to drop everything and go hermit-mode where I was far from everything and everyone. Perhaps it was the absolutely crippling depression that no amount of ssri's could fix. I was 30 and lost. I emphasise 30 because I was sure that by now I would have had my life together. Well, reality was far from it and it hurt to acknowledge.

I was on ssri's for over a year and a half. I started because I couldn't handle the stresses of 'my dream job'. Ssri's helped numb the agony of having to show up every day feeling totally defeated and unworthy. Until I hit a point of what I call THE VOID. It feels like what comes after having felt absolutely nothing at all for a long time. I can only attempt to compare it to, some type of all-consuming darkness. It's finding out rock bottom isn't rock bottom. But there's more. Fuck. And it doesn't seem to end.

My partner was the absolute light of my life throughout all of this. But some things you have to feel alone and can't ask others to feel them with you. It's entirely yours. That dark cloud was entirely mine and that was the loneliest thing in the world. My best friend urged me to go to the retreat. I'll never forget, she said: "I feel like your soul will get obliterated if you don't leave now." OBLITERATED! Oh, how I wished it would be obliterated! It would have felt cathartic to burst into a million pieces. But no, I'm sentenced to life on earth. I booked my ticket that night. Yes, I was crazy and out of my mind!

Prior to the retreat I was forced to be off my ssri's a month in advance - as well as alcohol, caffeine (brutal), vitamins and supplements, canned food, fried food, dairy, animal meat, etc. The goal was to rid my body of toxins and raise its natural vibration to the highest possible.

Fast forward to when I got to the retreat. The first thing they asked us to do was surrender our phones, laptops, watches, SNACKS(?!), books and journals. We lived each day not knowing what time it was, falling asleep to crickets and waking to birds singing tunes I only ever heard for the first time. It was like time collapsed and I entered into a natural realm where all I was asked to was e x i s t. What was I supposed to do with all this time?

Well I spent it sat on a sunbed overlooking the mountains (v breathtaking), or lying on the hammock and staring at the sky thinking about this and that until eventually no thoughts were left in me. When you have 24 hours (almost) every day without distractions you eventually run out of things to think about. It felt like my entire existence became one big meditation. But, I wasn't always alone. I was there with seven other women and when we weren't off doing our own thing staring at rocks and counting ants and stuff, we talked nonchalantly about some of our deepest darkest secrets, like it was just the weather. What was there to hide? We were all here because we were broken, exhausted and beat up by Life, and together hanging on to this one last piece of hope that might help us be ourselves again.

It was a beautiful union. One I've never experienced in my closest of friends, religious community or family. A kind of bond when strangers come to heal and be healed. And no - it's not like what I've experienced where some priest or pastor, or spiritual 'leader' supposedly in higher standing of some made-up hierarchy offers you healing. It was just us, broken and in pain, healing each other. How is that possible? I was always taught you have to be healed to heal. To help yourself before you help others. But this was so different. We were in it together and we saw the pain and felt it like it was ours. And that healed me in a way that made me think humans are pretty damn special.

More on retreat and ayahuasca experience to come :-)

[jackienautism]

saw u asking. about dr on amberpriceenthusiast’s blog… now i’m curious who YOUR favorites are

[insert that gif of that guy poointing to himself] you all have been feeding me SO well lately .........

drthh:

kyoko and celeste one THOUSAND percent...... i also rly like aoi and sayaka. and taka too but [redacted] sort of ruined him for me a bit lol.........

i cant really remember what drew me to kyoko initially. i thought she was cute. and i liked her voice (erika harlacher! same va as ann p5!) (talk 2 me abt VAs plsease) plus maybe tmi but i love like low energy characters a whole lot. esp if it's like... pretty obvious that they have depression or autism LOL

and for celeste... gosh i dont even. i remember being neutral on her after first playing the game, dont really know what made me DRASTICALLY change my mind . i guess i thought more about her character and OH I THOUGHT HER ENG VA'S PERFORMANCE WAS JUST SPECTACULAR..... HANDS DOWN THE BEST PERFORMANCE IN ALL OF DR TBHH........ anyway, i thoguht more about her character and hte more i thought about it the mor e i like... felt bad? djkfndf felt connected to her? it hought her whole like... lying thing to b interesting... esp how she was able to deceive her own emotions... there's NO waythat girl didn't have mental issues

sdr2:

rubs my little hands together. OK

I JUST..... I REALLY LOVE SONIA..... fun fact i got attached to her even before getting into dr LOL i cant remember how exactly i first laid my eyes on her but WHEN I FIRST LAID MY EYES ON HER.... IT WAS LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT...... it was like. i had to spoil thr whole second game JUST to make sure she survived. literally considered playing sdr2 before drthh just so i could be w/ her sooner kfdjgjkg I LOVE HER.......

AFTER playing the game though. my faves are def sonia (obv) peko mahiru chiaki gundham and nekomaru. i also rly rly like hajime akane and nagito LMAO i originally HAAAAATED nagito but i listened to ignorance by paramore a bunch of times and it finally clicked. hes my fucked up little guy and i am just alesbian

i know im typically All Girls but GOSH... GUNDHAM AND NEKOMARU..... LOVE THEM BOTH SO MUCH....... going through nekomaru's ftes (i wanted his special ability thing LOL) and i just.... i love this man...... the most mentally stable dr character fr......

ndrv3(?):

actually havent plauyed this game either yet djgknjgg BUT ive seen enough of the characters in the fandom as well to probably know who my faves would be

i love kaede and kirumi so very much<3 shout out to this one animation youtuber i follow on my other yt acc for getting me to fall FIRST for the characters and the pairing.... also think i would really like gonta and himiko and probably kiibo

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Days with Love // A.B.

Request: Millie!! I was wondering if you could make a fluffy Bridgerton one shot where the reader has a bad mental health day and Anthony spends the day cuddling her, making sure she has plenty of tea, and reads her favorite books to her? - @whovianwholikesgirls​

A/N: Thank you for such a request!! I hope you like and I hope I have done it justice. 

Warnings: female reader, she/her pronouns, low moods, depression, bad mental health, lots of comfort, lots of fluff, lots of cuddles and tea and reading, and full to the brim with love.

Word count: 1.1k

Poem featured: William Wordsworth, I wandered lonely as a cloud.

There were days when (Y/N) could not leave her bed, when the mere thought of removing the sheet exhausted her beyond her means. That the very idea of standing, getting dressed, smiling was too much.

On those days, she retreated to the safety of her bed where the soft sheets did their best to fight away the ever-darkening fog around her. She would curl onto her side, eyes focused on very little as she spent the day accepting the fact that she would have bad mental health days. Anthony always knew when such days were hiding around the corner. He knew because he watched the light dim around her; her smile struggling to remain on her lips, her confidence in herself wavering.

The room is dark save for a slither of daylight peeking through the roughly closed curtains. Anthony’s focus falls straight to his wife; her body lying flat on the bed, eyes gazing unseeing at the ceiling.

“Darling,” Anthony murmurs. “I’ve brought you some sweet tea and finger sandwiches.”

“I’m not hungry,” (Y/N) answers, blinking lazily at the ceiling.

Anthony cannot hide his smile as he watches the frown grow on her face. “Alright,” He concedes, “No sandwiches, but you will have a cup of sweet tea as I read to you.”

For the first time in the day, (Y/N)’s interest is piqued. “What are you going to read?”

Anthony bites his lower lip to keep the smile on his face from growing larger. Deep down, Anthony knew that her curiosity surrounding publications and serials would become too much for her to truly resist. Anthony shrugs nonchalantly, pouring two cups of tea. “Nothing special. A friend of Benedict’s dropped something off, I think he wants my patronage.”

“Oh,” She sighs, pushing yourself into a sitting position, knowing it would be better to drink her tea. She shuffles to the side, leaving room for Anthony to join her. (Y/N) spies the bound publication poking out of Anthony’s jacket pocket; she raises an eyebrow in question, but voices nothing.

Anthony takes his seat next to (Y/N), feeling more at home now than he did at the beginning of the day when he realised it was to be a bad day for his wife. With one hand wrapped around his cup, he reaches out for (Y/N) with the other, desperate to feel some connection with her. She leans into his touch; Anthony’s arm firm and strong around her shoulders, letting her feel more put together than she had in hours.

The couple are quiet as they take their first sip of tea. Her muscles relax as the drink spreads through her body, warming her from the inside out. As she leans back against the numerous pillows at the top of the bed, she remembers her mother’s mantra – the world could be put to right over a simple cup of tea. She doesn’t think a cup of tea could solve her bad days, but they slowly help to bring her back to herself.

“How are you feeling?” Anthony asks, his voice quiet in the peaceful room.

She shrugs, meeting her husband’s concerned gaze. “Like the last time this happened. I feel low, and sad, and unmotivated. Exhausted with a capital ‘E’.”

Anthony nods, wishing he knew the words that could comfort her, wishing he knew what he could do to take such days away from her. For now, he takes comfort in the fact that sitting with her, reading to her, and providing love in the form of cups of tea is enough for her. He would not know what to do with himself if his go to methods failed him.

“Would you like me to read to you?” He asks, always checking and always making sure that he was broaching (Y/N)’s days on her terms.

One nod becomes many. A wavering smile flits across her lips; there one minute and gone the next but it’s enough for Anthony’s heart to soar. “Yes please,” She answers, appreciating the effort her husband is going to.

Anthony pulls the bound book of poems from his pocket. The bound publication is pale blue in colour; the fabric covers looking extremely new as Anthony goes to open the front cover. The typeset is small; words only just legible as Anthony skips the title page and contents, flicking through until he finds the page he was looking for. With a caring glance to (Y/N), he asks, “Are you sitting comfortably?”

Her nod is the only answer he needs. In his best voice, Anthony begins to recite:

“I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o’er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze…”

Anthony takes pause, wetting his lips before moving to continue. (Y/N)’s hand reaches out to stop him; her fingers hiding the words away as she exclaims in a somewhat shocked manner, “Benedict is friends with William Wordsworth? How?”

“They met at one of the many parties thrown by one of Benedict’s many friends at art school.” Anthony explains before adding, “I had a meeting with Wordsworth just last week.”

At his explanation, (Y/N) falls silent, her focus lost to the tepid cup of tea in her hand. She stares down at the liquid; exhaustion washing over her in one fell swoop. Without so much as missing a word from the poem he’s reciting, Anthony reaches for her cup of tea, placing it on the bedside table. He glances her way, checking to see was alright and was relieved to see her falling asleep beside him. Anthony closes the book; the poem paused for now.

“Tired?”

(Y/N) nods; a yawn slipping from her lips. “Would you think me rude if I fell asleep?”

“Of course not!” Anthony all but cries, already shifting on the bed. As he stands from the bed, a hand catches his wrist, freezing him in place. “Stay with me?” She asks, her voice small as if she would dare ask her husband such a thing.

Relief washes through Anthony; the coldness in his veins turning to a warm fuzz as he slides in beside his wife. Their bodies find each other in the darkness of the room; Anthony’s arms strong as they wrap around (Y/N). In his arms, her mind begins to settle and the fog, whilst still dark, does not seem so consuming.

As she drifts off to sleep in the safety of her husband’s embrace, (Y/N) begins to come to terms with the fact that she will always have bad days – days where she will stay in bed and not venture further than the window – but with Anthony’s love for her so strong, and so pure, those days start to feel filled with nothing but love too.

*******

Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @janelongxox​ @sexysirius​ @wallwriterstuff​ @magicalxdaydream​ @darkestbeforethedawn16​ @gryffindors-weasley​ @spideysz​ @iammirrorball​ @joyfullymulti​ @nuttytani​ @multifandomfix​ @freyathehuntress​ @odetostep​ @bo-mitski​ @pinkcloxds​ @rosie-posie08​ @lovesanimals0000​ @flourishandblotts-inc​ @blankspaceblankday​

[b000mbayah]

Red Velvet as Yandere types

Have something that was just sitting in my weird drafts 🙃 I haven't read it thoroughly (like all my works), ignore spelling errors 😅

^=^^=^^=^^=^^=^^=^^=^^=^^=^^=^^=^

Irene- sadistic 

•Scary

•Like, ice queen scary

•Irene would have a strong desire to break you in many ways.

•Physically 

•Mentally 

•She'd find many ways, it's scary how she does it

•She would be sadistic in nature

•Rough tendencies to corrupt you, her innocent and corruption free partner in this life

•Struggles to show affection, so harming is how it's done 9/10 of the time

•Tight fisted hugs

•Tightened lips on your skin

•Just wouldn't know how to do it

•The temperature practically drops whenever she's pissed

•Definitely protective

•Loves seeing you beg, it gives her joy and pride

•Seeing you bleeding is like seeing you show her how much you love her

•Irene is just straight up insane :)

•But you still love her… not really.

"You've still got blood on you from last night.. that's no good, how am I supposed to see the fresh batch that I want to get tonight!"

Seulgi- Worshipper

•The moment she saw you she noticed something special 

•You looked like a god

•She'd vow from that day on to get to know you, and that's exactly what she did…

•Though, she worshipped you more so than being your friend

•An actual slave

•Major simp

•She wouldn't mind doing anything you asked of her 

•She'd probably enjoy it too!

•Also doesn't mind what you ask for

•Killing, yup

•Stealing, no big deal

•Losing respect from others, whatever!

•Hacking the government??? Like she would care… pfft!

•She'd do it as long as you're happy

•As long as she's providing support for you and building your trust.

•Although this is one of the more less harmful types out there

•She's still dangerous in many ways

•A weapon that knows it's being used and doesn't give a damn.

•However, a more depressing types

•As she has devoted her life to you, for you

•She'd make anyone feel bad for her in the blink of an eye too!

•Thinks of herself as less of a person and more as a weapon/tool that you could dispose of if she's not up to your standards anymore

•11/10 service because of that

•You're like some religion that she has taken the path of

"Y/n, I'm back! Would you like anything? A massage? An ice cold drink, please relax. Today's all about you darling!"

Wendy- projection

•According to Wendy, you look just like her previous lover.

•Her former lover either cheated, found someone new, died/ something along those lines..

•Once they left her, she'd see you shortly after

•Wendy would think you're beautiful and that you act just like her previous lover.

•She'd go after you, seeing this as a chance for redemption 

•Very innocent 

•May get aggressive if given the opportunity

•Will change their new partner to become just like the old one

•May project her ideal lover on them/you

•She does love you, just deep down so it hasn't surfaced yet

•Would buy you clothes (clothes that her old partner would've gotten)

•Would accidently make a slip up and say their name instead of yours

•She'd explain the truth but in her own twisted way

•Explaining how her ex left her and she's still getting over it

•A free pass to calling you their name I guess...

"Hey, e/n, i-i mean y/n… oh god, I just thought about them again…"

Joy- wrong idea 

•One confused soul

•Would get the wrong idea when you do something to match her given expectations.

•If you were to say you didn't love her, Joy would think you're lying inorder to protect her emotional state.

•Would think every action you do is for her.

•You picked her as a partner during gym?

•Nope, you did that because you wanted to be near her. 

•You did something out of the kindness of your heart?

•Nope, you did that out of love

•Love for her

•If you were to even look her way, she'd become a wreck on the inside

•Celebrating even the slightest touch

•She'd probably have some psycho list of things you've done for her somewhere as proof for your love

•Though, we don't talk about that...

•Could literally change any topic to you, it's like a power to change the conversation, linking it to you.

•You could be mindlessly talking to your friends and joy would link it to herself

"They said my name! They must be talking about how much they love me!"

Yeri- harmless

•Little baby

•Harmless little baby*

•Wouldn't hurt a fly

•Wouldn't hurt you

•Probably the least likely to be dangerous of the bunch 

•Wouldn't be able to live with herself if she did eventually hit you/harm you in any way, shape or form

•Yeri would fall in love in an obsessive way that's undeniably unhealthy

•Wouldn't do anything insane though..

•Would try her hardest to gain your attention 

•Small gifts

•Tiny conversations

•Silly smiles and jokes

•Wouldn't harass nor hurt anyone 

•If you were to date someone else that's not her, she wouldn't hit you or them

•If anything, she'd be perfectly happy that you're happy

•As long as you're happy, right?

•It's your life, not hers. 

•You can pick whomever…

•Who knows, you may pick her in the end anyways….

"Isn't they just the most cutest, the most sweetest person you've ever seen? Don't say yes, or do. I don't mind, haha!"

[painless-innit-colourful]

The Light Behind Their Eyes

It’s been a long-time headcanon of mine that the songs of Conventional Weapons exist in the universe of Dangers Days. And I’m sure you can guess which one this fic concerns... After a few terrible weeks for the rebels, there’s a special guest on Dr Death’s radio show, and they’ve got a very special message for the Zones.

It's been a bad few weeks in the Zones.

It began almost three weeks ago, when Dr D announced over the airwaves that Jet Star and the Kobra Kid got themselves dusted. Since then, it's been almost every night; killjoy names no one you know has ever heard of being given their two words on the evening 'cast. S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W sightings are more frequent, and claps happen every few hours. BLI seems to finally be cracking down on the desert rebels like they once promised they would, and it's leaving crews down members and everyone losing hope. Some say 'Destroya and the Pheonix Witch have abandoned us', but you try to hold out hope. Destroya protects the droids foremost, and only heaven knows if they're currently having as bad a time as the 'joys. As for the Pheonix Witch... Supposed sightings have dried up, but you're not surprised. With all the dustings lately, she must be busy. Whispers throughout the desert say they can hear the ghosts of the passed killjoys shouting out in the static, singing their songs long into the night in a spiritual procession through the sand wastes. A parade of death, like a cemetery drive on the move. It's a depressing thought, but it holds up to reason. The mailbox is full.

You're alone tonight; you needed some air. The campfire's been burning for hours, and though it could attract some less than wanted attention, it's a put it out or go inside kind of night. Next to it sits an empty can of Power Pup (it's been tasting worse recently) and your radio. It blares some old Mad Gear song, which Dr D introduced as a "favourite of our Fab Four" when it started. His intros have been weirdly short these past few hours. You sit back and try to enjoy the last thirty seconds or so of the song. The sun set hours ago, and the stars are out. You wonder if the old dust trails about ghosted 'joys becoming stars are true.

"Alright, children," Dr Death's nightly greeting sounds out into the night air. "The lights are out, and the party's over. But before I go, I've got one more treat for you." In the background, while he talks, you hear the strained tones of an acoustic guitar being tuned. That gets your attention. Guitars - electric ones - are common at Zone concerts, but since they're so quiet, no one plays acoustic guitars. The only other time you've ever heard one was when you came across a half-broken thing with your crew in the burnt-out shell of an old building. No one could figure out how to make it sound anything but rusty. "I've got an old friend with a pretty shiny piece of junk here, and they'd like to play you a song. Let's just say, you won't get this at none o' your Mad Gear shows. Sing yourselves to sleep tumbleweeds, and don't let the static swallow you up. Goodnight." There's a moment of quiet as whoever shuffles towards the microphone, and you hit the 'record' button on your radio just as Dr D softly utters: "S'all your's Party." The archaic tape recorder splutters and whirrs to life, wheezing from disuse before the little crimson light blinks on, just as whoever it is in the Dr's studio starts to strum gently. You sit back again as they begin to sing:

"So long to all my friends, / Every one of them met tragic ends."

Somewhere in the second line, their voice breaks and Dr D murmurs something you don't catch. Their playing isn't amazing, but the guitar seems to almost be crying its notes, surrounding them in emotion, though maybe that's just you. These past weeks have been harsh, and you haven't heard something so gentle in a long time.

"With every passing day, / I'd be lying if I didn't say / That I miss them all tonight / And if they only knew what I would say,"

Something about the lyrics makes you want to go get your crew and hold them tight, protect them from the elements and BLInd and whatever's out there in the static to be afeared of. Everyone in the desert knows someone who's recently joined the parade of the dead, whether they were your best mate or the chilly weirdo you got into a fight over PP prices with at Tommy's. You wonder if the singer has lost someone recently too.

"If I could be with you tonight, / I would sing you to sleep / Never let them take the light behind your eyes / One day I'll lose this fight / As we fade in the dark / Just remember you will always burn as bright."

The desert seems to grow still around you, as even the wind stops to listen to the melody of the 'joy on the radio. Who is that? You recognise their voice somewhat: you've heard them in the background of Dr Death's broadcasts before, and any voice on the radio that isn't one of the DJs or Cherri Cola gets your attention. Right before they started singing Dr D called them Party... You wrack your brain for any Killjoys with Party in the name, and the only one that comes to mind is Party Poison, of the Fab Four. Could it be them? Dr D said before that last Mad Gear song that it was a "favourite of our Fab Four", and the loss of Party's friend and brother was the beginning of this awful few weeks for all the Zones so... it could make sense. Then again, maybe it isn't.

"Be strong and hold my hand, / Time it comes for us, you'll understand / We'll say goodbye today, / And I'm sorry how it ends this way, / If you promise not to cry, / Then I'll tell you just what I would say-"

Their voice grows stronger, more sure of themself as they sing, though they break again a little on "promise not to cry". As they get louder, someone (presumably Dr D) starts drumming using his desk, and the wind around you picks back up, whipping sand into a frenzy and nearly dousing your campfire early. You can hear something far away in the desert; the wind is moaning, and the sky responds.

"If I could be with you tonight, / I would sing you to sleep / Never let them take the light behind your eyes / I'll fail and lose this fight / Never fade in the dark / Just remember you will always burn as bright."

The passion behind their words sounds like a promise. The wind intensifies; the desert itself is howling, the sand puts your campfire out and leaves you alone in the noisy silence. Your empty Power Pup can is scooped up by the wind and tossed away, clanging against something on the way down, the sound like mournful crying. Without the firelight, the stars that suddenly fill the once-empty expanse above grow brighter to compensate. You shuffle closer to your radio and turn it up slightly, and hear the song of a defiant killjoy join the cacophonous fray:

"The light behind your eyes. / The light behind your- / Sometimes we must grow stronger and / You can't be stronger in the dark. / When I'm here, no longer / You must be stronger and-"

As the singing 'joy enters the bridge, something appears in the sandstorm. People: killjoys, running, dancing, singing in unheard voices, laughing to jokes never heard. Their colours are brighter than the stars, their smiles wider than the Zones. They are walking as one, up and down the dunes, a heaving mass of people celebrating, firing rayguns into the dark, toasting Power Pup like it doesn't taste like dog food. Someone else appears before you as you grab your radio and hold it tight, lest the wind carries it off. You look up to see her dark cloak, her halo of violet light, her mask staring back. As the sandstorm rages and the wind tears at you like needles, it snatches at the top of your head, taking your mask as it rests there. It flies away towards her at speed, and she catches it in an outstretched hand. The dancing 'joys shine brighter for a moment, and something in the pit of your stomach makes you feel weightless. You start to rise to your feet, but she steps forward, her hand reaching towards your own.

"If I could be with you tonight, / I would sing you to sleep / Never let them take the light behind your eyes / I failed and lost this fight / Never fade in the dark / Just remember you will always burn as bright. / The light behind your eyes."

The Pheonix Witch stands before your trembling form and presses your mask back into your shaking hand. She steps away, and you feel lightheaded, the dancing lights burning too bright, a hundred stars leaping skyward. She turns and walks towards the procession of ghosted killjoys, leaving you once again alone in the sand. The colours of the procession fade to greys and blacks, and then altogether. The Witch disappears, and you see your vision blur with tears. You slump sideways and lie there in the desert, at the centre of a sandstorm, radio clutched to your heart, mask scrunched in one hand. You vaguely hear the singer repeat the last line "The light behind your eyes” again, and again, and again, like a lullaby into the night.

When you wake, it's all white noise. At some point the tape recorder stopped - you're not sure how, as your radio is still clutched to your chest. Your mask is still in hand. You shake off the sand that's piled around you.

The sandstorm. You check for grazes, but nothing hurts. It's freezing, you realise, and still hours away from sunrise, or alarm clock radiation, as one of your crew likes to call it. You better get inside before you die of hypothermia or something. You turn off the radio and head into the building in which your crew are sleeping.

Somewhere in the desert, a crow caws.

---

Taglist: @chaoticemopigeon @antikalvinclub (remember this thing?!)

[hereliesanotherfic]

Albert James Moriarty x Reader

A/N: Just a little drabble, nothing too intense. More an admiration for our handsome Albert ^^ But I hope to write more for Yuukoku no Moriarty! I just got into the anime so I know nothing of the manga. So in this fic, I had to make up an aristocrat family/servants. The more I learn of the series I might not have too! xD Let me know what you think!

Rating: PG 13 (probably) Triggers:

(Mentions of) Family member death, thoughts of suicide,

(Actions of) Murder but no heavy details.

You weren’t anything special to the world, or at least never felt like it for a long time. You had ‘worked’ for a wealthy family in Durham for more than 5 years now and most of your work was shared with your older brother. You haven’t been allowed to see him lately though, and it was concerning. He began to fall ill, and you did your best to care for him after serving all your duties to the family. But it’s been a long…long time since you’ve seen his face now, almost a year. The Lord of the house, Lord Vincent told you not to concern yourself and they had a handled on it, but over the time those words have been of no comfort. The fact that you cannot see your brother after so long makes you fear something awful has happened. After all, the noblemen and family weren’t the kindest to lower class like yourself. You’ve gotten smacked and hit, drinks thrown at you, belittled, and shamed beyond what is humane. Your only string to life is that your brother might truly be alive and struggling, but you’ve never felt a depression and despair this deep before.

At this moment, you were on your hands and knees scrubbing the dining room floor, the maids setting a table fit for five. You overheard Lord Vincent had invited some noblemen who were new to the area over for a feast, and once the reply came back, he demanded all get to work in preparations. The butler had stepped in, clapping his hands. “Alright, quickly now, clean up and make yourselves presentable, they will be here shortly!” You placed your sponge in the bucket and hurried it to the washroom. Racing back, you stood in your spot at the end of the line of maids, brushing out your uniform of wrinkles or dirt. The butler scanned down all three maids, his eyes scowling at you. The butler was a bit of a prick like the noblemen, he had no respect for you since you were on the bottom of the barrel. You looked to your feet, wishing for nightfall to come so you could sleep again.

“Come with me,” you heard Lord Vincent cheer and you dared to glance up at the guests. First was a very tall, slender brunette with gorgeous green eyes and a strong jawline. Following him were two blondes, striking ruby red eyes, a little more build but just as attractive. You quickly stared back down at your feet, praying you weren’t caught by anyone in the room. If Lord Vincent or his mistress found out you were eyeing the guests it’d mean another punishment. Your food, injuries, sanity? They liked to change it to see how far your threshold could go.

As proper maids do, you each stepped up to a chair to pull it out for the noblemen. You weren’t sure if you were lucky or doomed to seat the brunette. Allowing him to sit and then aid pushing his chair in, he glanced over his shoulder to you and your peripheral vision could see his small smile. Without thinking, your eyes looked up and locked to his, which made his own eyes soften slightly. You immediately looked back down to the floor and took your place back to the side of the room. It was only an interaction of maybe 5 to 10 seconds, but it felt so impressionable. You admired how his tux made his shoulders and back a bit broader, whatever fancy cologne he was wearing was practically intoxicating, and his eyes and smile could get you dangerously lost. It wasn’t often young noblemen appeared, and now you were glad they didn’t.

The five aristocrats talked and ate the delicious food. You never really knew what the foods were or how to cook them, but it always looked mouthwatering. Time seem to go faster today, but you felt it was because of that damn brunette. You locked his image to his voice after threatening another glance, his voice smoothing through the conversations like melted butter. In a moment, you heard the famous finger snap of the Lord, signaling for places and leftovers to be cleared from the table. As a good maid, you took action and stood besides the brunette, clearing his space leaving no crumb behind. You felt eyes on you, but you couldn’t tell if it was him, or the Lord on your left side. You did every mental trick in your mind to not be too nervous. But it was already failing you.

“Your maid seems unsteady, Lord Vincent, is she alright?” the blonde you learned to be William spoke. He was across the table but he still noticed the slight tremors in your fingers? What the hell?! You stood straight with your couple plates and cups and looked to Lord Vincent, who looked pleased, but you saw his little ticks to know well enough, he was pissed.

“Do not fret about the service Lord Moriarty! She has been failing my family repeatedly, so a change has been due for a while now.”

…What?

“It’s so hard these days to find high class maids,” his wife sighed loudly, a look of disgust lingering on your backside.

You heartrate increased dramatically while your skin paled. You slightly bowed to excuse yourself from the conversation (even though you were just the topic) and headed towards the kitchen to dispose of the plates. You practically dropped them in the skin and held onto the counter. Your suspicions about them killing off bad service wasn’t just a rumor, it was true! You knew now because you were next! Your brother—you had to find a way to get out and save your brother! …

Your eyes started to water at the realization. ‘They had a handle on it’, in aristocrat terms, in the Vincent family terms, they eliminated him. And dragged you on to play the fool believing your brother was alive just to suck out whatever they could from you. You dropped to your knees as your tears poured, fingertips turning while you still gripped the counter above you. And the thought of joining your brother now…maybe he would forgive you if you join him for letting him die.

“Why are you crying?” a voice behind you spoke softly, startling you out of your self-pity and turning around instantly. To your utter shock, it was Lord Albert James Moriarty, and he was less than two feet from you, one hand outstretches as if to catch you.

You harshly wipe the tears from your face and eyes with your sleeve, standing up as quickly as physically possible and giving your uniform a couple messy pats, yabbering your apologizes as if your ending life still depended on it. “I am so very sorry Lord Moriarty, you should never have seen me in such array. Please forgive my improper-ness.” You didn’t know where to look, what to do with your hands, your anxiety was eating you alive! So you did your only method, stare at the floor with your head down and grip your uniform, your hair falling slightly forward as it was falling out of its bun. You could feel your body shaking and tried to stop it, your embarrassment eating you up on the inside for making a fool of yourself in front of not just a Lord, but a handsome one at that. He couldn’t have been more than a couple years older than you, and he could be placed in a museum and you were the cement floor.

“Please, don’t be afraid of me,” Albert begged softly, the gentleness of his voice being completely unexpected. You felt his large hand wrap around one of your clenched ones, making you remove your grip from your dress and be held in his hand. In the same moment, his other hand swooped under your jaw gently and lifted your face to look at him, swiping the (still) falling tears with his thumb. He locked his eyes with you (e/c) ones, a small smile came back to grace his lips. Just as you feared, you fell into a trance. You felt his other thumb rubbing small circles in your hand as he spoke his velvet words again.

“Come, it’s time to leave,” he hummed, closing his hand fully around yours before turning and heading out of the kitchen. You immediately started to panic at the though of Lord Vincent seeing the guest of honor so close to you, let alone touching you or speaking to you.

“L-l-l-lord Moriarty, I can’t do—this isn’t rig-okay, I mean!—” You choked to find the words, not wanting to offend him in any way, but terrified of not stopping him before re-entering the dining room like this. His grip was strong and you couldn’t pull back more than he pulled forward. He stopped for a moment and chuckled, looking over his shoulder to you with a smile and slender eyes.

“Do not worry about that miss, Lord Vincent has no more hold over you.” And he continued walking. You had no idea what that meant, but you were about to find out.

After he pulled you through the doors into the dining room, the sight was appalling. The head Maid was sobbing on the floor, a bloody knife fallen from her bloody hand. Lying hunched dead over the table were the Lord and his mistress, each suffered one to three stab wounds. The smell of all this blood was too strong and you covered your mouth with your hand. Before you could take in any more of the messy scene, Albert was already dragging you along outside, the two blonde brothers finishing up inside with the maid. You were practically speechless.

“L-..Lord Moriarty?” you said just above a whisper as he opened the door to his luxury carriage, looking at you. “…What’s happened?”

“Lord Vincent and his wife have both paid their debt for the slaughter of lower class servant workers, that’s all,” he stated matter-of-factly. Your eyes widened at his words, but they were soft. How did another aristocrat family know of this, not to mention care?

“We in the Moriarty family are…different,” he chuckled, before stepping to the side. “Please, hop in.”

“Why?” You asked, forgetting for a moment he was a nobleman.

“I’d like to give you some time to think if you’d like to be a maid for our family, or if you’d like to start a new life elsewhere. In the meantime, I can provide you a safe place to stay.”

You cheeks reddened slightly at the word ‘I’ and he must’ve caught on, closing his eyes for a brief moment before looking back into yours. If it wasn’t so dark out, you could’ve confirmed or not if he was blushing a bit too.

“We, my brothers and I,” he corrected, and motioned you into the carriage. At this point, your former Lord was dead, you brother was dead and you had little hope immediately on the street. Maybe serving the handsome Albert James Moriarty wasn’t such a bad deal after all. Especially if they are taking away some of the scum of the world.

Albert couldn’t have been more pleased when you stepped inside the carriage. This operation William put together has been brewing for a few months. Truth be told, Albert has seen you more than a couple times, but he’s never interacted with you since that wasn’t part of the plan. It was obvious to William you were being tricked, and your heavy depression blocked your brain from the truth. Only once you feel your life was truly on the line would you snap out of it. Albert was just as happy as his brothers to save another lower-class citizen from harm. Not to mention Louis lightly teasing him about keeping his eyes on you a little too much.

[mycomfortblanket]

Just One

cw: miscarriage

Each and every time Toph became pregnant, it only ever ended in tears and heartbreak. Each time she felt the heartbeat stirring within her, hope and love would flood through her body and she would rush to tell Aang. After the first few times the pregnancy resulted in miscarriage's, they began to lose hope, to talk about their options.

Toph had tried to get him to have a child with another woman to pass on airbending and he agreed. Aang had gone away for a week or two to one of the fertility clinics in the Earth Kingdom to find the right woman who could carry the child, and then eventually bed her.

Toph felt sick the entire time he was gone, barely able to keep anything down and cried randomly. The thought of him being with another woman was unthinkable to her and she could barely process the thought. So, when he returned after two weeks, she didn't rush out to greet him like she normally did when he returned from trips. She could feel his heartbeat through the house when he finally walked through the front door. He saw her sitting on the couch, her head in her hands.

"Toph-"

"No. Don't. I don't want to know how it went or what all happened or how you-"

"I didn't do it," he cut her off. Her head snapped up and she looked over towards him. She listened to his heartbeat for a moment, trying to see if he was lying. She wanted to feel that he was lying but hoped he wasn't.

"Why?" she whispered.

He walked over and sat down on the couch beside her, but kept his distance, "I couldn't, not unless it is you."

"Aang, you know I can't give you what you want," her voice cracked on the last word and tears pricked at her eyes.

"I know. But, if it's not you, then I don't want it."

"You know I can't do it anymore, Aang. It's too much."

"I know, and it's okay. It's okay," he gathered her in his arms and held her.

After the last miscarriage, they decided to stop trying. The heartbreak and grief had become too much and Toph was depressed by how her body had let her down. Aang knew it meant that Airbending would die with him, but he couldn't bring himself to bed the woman.

He had found someone who was discreet, properly fertile, and looked as close to Toph as possible. She had even cut her hair into the style Toph had. He was intent on getting it done as quickly as possible. he walked down the hallways towards the room where the bedding would happen, but he wasn't able to bring himself to open the door. HE could just see the look on Toph's face when she first suggested that he got a surrogate, the heartbreak and dejection.

Aang hadn't said anything at the time because he knew it was his duty to carry on the line, but the thought of being intimate with another woman was out of the question. After a few moments of silence, he said no and to not ever say it again. But she did, several time. She was being the voice of reason and eventually, he agreed, saw the logic behind it.

When he tells her that he didn't bed the woman, that he couldn't, he can feel the tension train from her body and she slumps against him.

So, when they stopped trying- they took every precaution that they could so that there wouldn't be any accidental pregnancy. She drank special tea, they wore protection, even pulled out when she was most fertile.

The moment she felt the heartbeat thump inside her, her heat sank and she immediately wanted to die. She didn't think that she or Aang could withstand another heartbreak like that. Aang noticed she wasn't following him through the market anymore, but was, instead, standing in the middle of the aisle with her hand on her stomach. Her face was ghostly pale and the look of pure terror adorned her features. Immediately, he knew what was wrong.

Slowly, he walked back to her and took her face in his hands, directing his gaze to him. He could see the tears that were forming in her sightless eyes, "Aang-" she cuts herself off with a sob and buries her face in his chest. He wraps his arms around her and closes his eyes; he can feel the way the sobs wracked her body.

They decided to keep the news of their latest pregnancy hushed, only telling Katara so that she could examine Toph. She could see how distraught her friend was at the news that she was pregnant again. At the thought of the miscarriage to come.

"I can end the the pregnancy, if you want," Katara says gently.

Toph closes her eyes, but some tears are still able to escape, "No. I don't want it done by anyone else's hand but my own."

When they passed the first trimester, a point they had only reached a few times before, they begin to feel a little bit of hope stirring inside them. They become excited and almost immediately, Aang becomes overbearing. Constantly insisting that she rest or eat something to keep her strength up. But still, they didn't tell anyone.

It wasn't until Toph's stomach had begun to swell past the point of hiding that they tell their friends. Immediately, they're met with shocked silence and a few worried glances.

"She's seven months along. Katara said the chance of a miscarriage at this point is really low," Aang said reassuringly and he could see the careful smiles and joy seeping into the group as excitement settles in.

"Well, if the fucker got through the condom and tea, it's a strong son of a bitch," Sokka laughed and raised his glass. Laughing, the rest of the group raised their glasses and toasted with him.

Eventually, her water broke and they rushed to Katara to help her through the delivery. Resting against Aang's chest, Toph screamed and cursed while trying to push the baby out. Every contraction, she squeezed Aang's hand and swears that he is never touching her again. But, in the back of her mind, she thinks how worth the pain is. After all these heartbreaks, their baby was finally here.

"It's a girl!" Katara cries out. She wraps the newborn in a blanket and hands her to Toph. Her fingers are instantly ghosting over the child's face, mapping out her features. Aang is staring in awe over her shoulder, brushing a finger over the baby's arm until he came to the angry fist.

"Spirits, Toph. She's beautiful. She looks just like you," he whispers.

"My beautiful baby girl," Toph's finger brushes over her nose and traces her calming mouth, "My beautiful Lin." They never spoke of names so when 'Lin' came out, Toph and Aang's breath hitched. Even though they had become hopeful and sure that the pregnancy would be a successful one, they never spoke of names. They never fully gave themselves over to the possibility of having a child.

A beat passes, she feels Aang's come around her middle to hug her from behind, "I think it's a beautiful name."

[4acoffee]

To Anyone Else But Me

Happy Birthday to my actual prince

ADJEIHSY I LOVE MY PEPPERMINT

Also requests are stillll opennnnn

Summary: Y/n reminiscences about how Shoto has affected her life. 

Thoughts plagued her as she walked.

To anyone else, she might have been walking around aimlessly with little purpose, hands shoved inside her jacket pockets and face blank as she swerved between people here and there, ignoring the shouts from the people inside the car she had just walked in front of on a red light. 

But she kept walking with the sole idea of getting to the Todoroki household. 

The directions were basically muscle memory to her now, after repeated trips to the place since she was little more than a child, regardless of the time or day. 

A small smile danced across her lips as a memory found it’s way to the surface of her mind. 

.

Endeavor and y/n’s parents, deep in conversation with each other about matters that neither of the children could comprehend at the time.  

Small hesitant e/c eyes stared into the cold, seemingly empty gaze of the multi-hair colored boy seated on the other side of the room. 

Not that she wasn’t familiar with the look herself, especially after having to hide her emotions so often from her own parents who had their own mold they tried to fit her in. 

“Why don’t you two go play outside for a bit while we talk some more.”

The voice of your parents broke you out of whatever little staring concentration you were both partaking in. 

“Yes, Shoto, take the girl to the gardens.” Endeavor said.

The girl in question decided immediately that she didn’t like the commanding tone the pro hero used on his own son. 

‘I thought heroes were supposed to be kind and gentle?’ She thought to herself. 

Then again, she had learned a long time ago that titles and personalities didn't always align. 

The boy — Shoto, stood up and walked away without even sparingba glance her way. Y/n shot a look at her parents once more before getting up after him and following him out wordlessly. 

.

She soon found herself in front of his house. 

She looked up and took in the large building in front of her that screamed wealth and of highest class.

She opened the door which was already left unlocked in the mornings when she was more than expected to visit. To anyone else the quiet air of the house may have been peaceful, but to her it was painfully suffocating at times. 

.

They walked to the gardens in complete silence, neither saying a word.

She sighed and walked past the dining table where Fuyumi was seated, doing her schoolwork. She smiled and offended her a hello and raised a hand in greeting to nice girl. 

Out in the gardens she was the first to break the silence. 

“You’re eyes are really pretty!” she blurted without thinking. 

Shoto turned and blinked confusedly at the little girl who suddenly felt flustered. 

“You...you don’t think, my scar looks weird?” He asked quietly, like he was afraid of scaring her. 

Y/n had of course noticed the scar adorning his left eye, but in all honestly the reddened skin of the scar blended in with the colors of the sunset. The two had been standing in the warmth of the sunlight, and even though the atmosphere was anything but, she couldn’t help but think that he looked lovely with the dull orange and red hues of the sun painting his skin, making his eyes almost sparkle, as if the light was trying to give the lonely boy something of a warm and welcoming hug.

She shook her head

.

She walked up the stairs to where she knew Shoto’s room was. 

To anyone else, the few steps to where she knew he would be were nothing special, but to her, those few steps felt like coming home. It really was.

She opened the door to his room and was met with those same heterochromatic eyes that she knew so well by now. 

.

“You’re scar looks really cool! It’s like Zuko’s from Avatar!” she said excitedly, being remained of her cartoon hero. 

Shoto looked bewildered by her second strange outburst of the day. He was not used to being praised for his scar, or be compared to a fictional character. 

.

Y/n couldn’t stop the smile she had been suppressing from turning into a much larger one as she thought of the first time she had shown Shoto the wonders of the Avatar universe. 

.

He scowled all off a sudden and looked away from her. 

“Stop lying. No one thinks that about my scar. It’s a scar and it’s weird.” 

She frowned. 

“That’s not true.” 

Y/n reached out to gently touch the scar, Shoto flinched slightly when her warm fingers met his rough skin.

“Your scars not weird, it’s awesome!” She narrowed her eyes. — “And you’re really stupid if you don’t think so.” 

His eyes widened, from his conflicting feelings that were telling him not to believe her, or for being called stupid, he wasn’t sure but he looked down at his shoes and pouted.

“Well, anyone else would think it's weird.” 

She grinned brightly.

“Anyone else but me.”

.

Her smile only widened as she made her way to Shoto who was seated on his ridiculously neat bed. She didn’t miss the way his eyes brightened just a bit at her sight even if the small frown on his face didn’t cease. To anyone else, the little action was nothing special, but knowing that the mask he constantly wore to hide what he was feeling could be awfully tiring, and the fact the she could be a bit of relief was rewarding in it’s own way.

Making her way next to him she moved closer until their shoulders were touching and nudged him.  

“Your dad?” she asked. 

He nodded and somberly looked away.

Y/n tch’ed at him and rolled her eyes. 

“Come on peppermint, you should know better by now than to get upset over some Garbage Fire throwing a fit.”

He looked up at her through his eyelashes and pouted, resembling something of a little puppy after being refused treats. 

She sighed fondly and held her arms open invitingly to the touch starved boy who eagerly wrapped his arms around her back and buried his face into the crook of her neck. 

To anyone else, it could just be a normal show of affection, but to her, it was a show of trust, she knew that there was no one else he felt comfortable laying himself out to like this. The moment was special, to each the other was a solace, a place to put the troubles of their lives aside and bask in knowing there was nothing to hide. 

He dragged his face down your chest and gazed up towards the smaller girl in appreciation and contentment that you equally reciprocated. 

Shoto 

To anyone else he was an enigma,— mysterious, indifferent and an unbelievably powerful hero to be. 

But to y/n, he was a relief, a comfort, someone you could confide in, your little bit of peace in the intense grueling weight of all the responsibilities and expectations in your life. 

To anyone else, he was Shoto Todoroki, an amazing hero to be, who would bear the responsibility of protecting thousands of civilians every day.  

But to y/n,

To you,

He was Shoto Todoroki, the shy, awkward little boy who hugged her delicately for the first time when she scraped her knee during training. The same kid who didn't let you kill a spider that crawled into your room because it has a life of it's own too. The boy that you were convinced deserved the whole world but never got the half of it. He was Shoto Todoroki in all his glory.

Your Shoto. 

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH112

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 112: The Dream of the Holy Nun (II)

"So Ning Zhou is there with you now?" Miao Li asked as she roamed Qi Leren’s dream.

Qi Leren kept having unwanted dreams whenever he nodded off, but thanks to Miao Li's intrusion, he had been woken from the nightmare he had been having just now. His dreams of continuous death only made him more tired.

Miao Li yawned: "That's great, we’re still busy with the follow-up for the Slaughter Secret Society."

"Isn't it all over?" Qi Leren asked.

"Over? No, no, no, this task is much more complicated than you think. Although you’ve performed the most critical part, there are many other things besides this..." Miao Li pushed her glasses up. "Do you think sending you into the Slaughter Secret Society undercover is the only thing we did? It took a lot of effort for the Illusionist to cover up your tombstones on Undead Island. He’s very curious about you."

Tombstones? Qi Leren suddenly remembered that when he’d recognized Luo Yishan, Luo Yishan had also recognized him. If he sent someone to investigate the identity of 'Qi Leren', then those amazing tombstones on the Undead Island…

Wait a minute.The Court knew about his tombstones? Qi Leren was stunned.

"You thought no one knew about it? In a few months, the whole Twilight Township will know that there’s a player named 'Qi Leren' who has died many times. This kind of bizarre news always travels quickly," Miao Li said with a smile, seeming to see what he was thinking.

Qi Leren suddenly had a bad feeling. He didn't want to get into any trouble: "Is there any way to cover up my tombstones? For example, by digging them out?"

For the sake of confidentiality, Qi Leren would not hesitate to dig his own graves.

"...Your idea is really interesting, but the Nightmare World is different from reality after all. Even if you forcibly dig out your tombstone, it will be refreshed after midnight. The Undead Island is like a game log, recording the names of players since the birth of this world. What qualifications do we have to delete the game logs when we’re only players?" Miao Li said with a slight irony. "So we just sent an Illusionist to temporarily cover your tombstones on the Undead Island after confirming that you needed to go undercover. Now the Illusionist has removed the illusion, and your secret can't be concealed for too long. As long as one person finds out, a secret is no longer a secret. You should be glad that there aren’t many people who have grave-sweeping as a hobby."

It was unfortunate. If the Illusionist had covered the tombstones earlier, he wouldn’t have been distracted by the mountain of death records. It seemed that you should use your real name less when walking outside. If there were onlookers, he would be afraid of someone trying to take advantage of his ability to resurrect himself... This had already happened and would continue to happen. Speaking of which.

"The Slaughter Secret Society’s believers were caught, right? Luo Yishan... Lie Yang knows my real name. At that time, I failed to kill him in the field," Qi Leren asked with a frown.

"He’s dead, died of the seed of slaughter’s outbreak and blood loss. Now the Village of Dusk’s enchantment has been closed, only in not out. The connection attached to the memento ring can track the identities of people who have entered the field, and basically all believers have been either arrested or will be soon. However, there are still several believers who were not in Dusk when the incident occurred, and two other believers escaped before the enchantment closed," Miao Li gave a brief account of the situation.

"Who escaped?" Qi Leren suddenly had a bad feeling.

Miao Li gave him a deep look and seemed a little sympathetic: "Two people you know very well. Mrs. Kathleen, and her subordinate Ashley."

"..." The sense of foreboding always came true. Qi Leren couldn't say what kind of revelation this was.

"Let Ning Zhou train you, maybe it will be useful one day," Miao Li said.

The depressed Qi Leren looked indifferent. Ning Zhou didn't speak kindly when he trained him. He couldn't remember how many times he knocked him to the ground even when he was prepared. Even if his psychological quality was better, he would soon have a psychological shadow from falling into a sprawl all the time.

"Oh, another thing about Slaughter, go to the Trial after you finish your first compulsory task and set aside at least one week of survival days. We’ll help you take out your ticking timebomb," Miao Li said with a smile and walked out of his dream lightly.

It was already morning when he woke up. Although it was still sunset outside the window, the countdown of survival days told him that another day had passed. Qi Leren struggled to get out of bed, washing and thinking about today's mission.

Ning Zhou gave him a daily training menu, and he was also responsible for sparring with him for some of the contents that required a partner. Therefore, Qi Leren took the initiative to prepare the "coach"'s three meals. At present, the two people got along well - considering that so many embarrassing things had happened between them, this harmonious relationship was even more commendable.

There was a faint warmth when he remembered the scene of them eating together in the warm sunset.

However, Ning Zhou said yesterday that he would be absent today and Qi Leren didn't bother to ask him where he was going, so he was the only one who enjoyed breakfast today.

Compared to a large number of procrastinators and lazy parasites in modern society, Qi Leren was a very self-disciplined person. After entering the Nightmare Game, he consciously exercised himself. Now that he had this scientific tutorial, he cherished this opportunity very much. Although every day he was drilled so black and blue that he had to crawl to bed at the end of the day, and when he fell asleep he was haunted by nightmares from time to time, the next day he would still grit his teeth.

Ning Zhou was not here, so the training schedule was cancelled. After training in the afternoon, Qi Leren had some rare leisure time. Out of camaraderie among friends, he specially copied a training menu for Dr. Lu. In the private clinic, he saw Dr. Lu lying on a soft sofa enjoying dessert and hot drinks. He warmly invited Qi Leren to share in the afternoon tea.

After learning about Qi Leren’s recent training menu, Dr. Lu showed the expression of "My little friend is so masochistic he would scare a baby to death" and only reluctantly agreed to jog for two kilometers every day after being persuaded by Qi Leren. However, when he saw his criminal record of falling flat after running only two steps - which Dr. Lu repeatedly explained was because his cerebellum was naturally uncoordinated and his balance was worse than the average person - Qi Leren didn’t believe he would last for long…

After coming out of Dr. Lu's clinic, Qi Leren also saw a player who spoke with an accent talking with his friend: "There’s a female doctor here whose medical skills are very good! There’s just a few more rules. "

"Really? Is she beautiful?"

"He's a man."

"Didn't you say it was a female doctor?"

"Oh no, it's Nu (woman)."

The window on the second floor suddenly opened. Dr. Lu poked his head out and said maliciously, "My last name is Lu! I don't treat people with accents!"

After asking for forgiveness, the two people found that the doctor was hard-hearted and they immediately took up evil thoughts, wanting to threaten violence. Worried about Dr. Lu’s safety, Qi Leren, who hadn’t left yet, simply practiced his recent training results and was pleasantly surprised to find that one or two players weren’t a problem.

The two players didn’t even dare to trash talk as they escaped. Qi Leren watched the two disappear at the intersection and then reluctantly looked at the helpless Dr. Lu: "Now that you know how important exercise is, let’s teach you a few tricks."

Dr. Lu opened his mouth and exclaimed: "I’m used to you having the aura of a mysterious soft girl, you’re as easily bullied as I am. I’m surprised to see you’ve improved so much. It’s really hard to look at you now, you were so cute before..."

Qi Leren’s hands itched to beat him. What is this mysterious soft girl aura?! Who the hell is cute? Although that one task forced me to be a girl for a few days,  I’m still a man normally. I just sent two seven-foot men packing!

"Have a good time training yourself. If you can’t run at least two laps, what will you do the next time someone makes trouble? If you can't beat them, you have to run for it," Qi Leren said earnestly, too lazy to care.

"Don't I have a skill card, [Here, We Will Have Free Wi-Fi]? When equipped, everyone will slowly forget my existence and do their own thing. If the duration of the skill is up, I'll either admit defeat or call the police. If it truly doesn't work out, there'll always be passersby who will help me at the crucial moment," Dr. Lu said firmly.

"...Do whatever you want." Qi Leren said tiredly. As someone with E-level luck, he didn't quite understand the confidence of someone with EX luck, so he left in a disgruntled manner.

It was still early, so he could go somewhere else. Qi Leren made a trip according to the addresses and information given by Chen Baiqi. There were two players who were good at manual work and could be used to make chargers. As a result, when he came to the doors that matched the addresses, one had gone out to do a task and wasn’t at home and the other house was empty, which should mean he’d died recently.

Qi Leren was in a state of melancholy. It seemed he would have to come back another time to see if the player who had left to do a task had come back alive.

As he had plenty of time, Qi Leren simply checked the main task again. Ever since he’d entered the Nightmare World he would go see if the key NPC Rudd, who triggered the task, was present, but he deliberately didn't trigger the task for fear that he would die again. He just wanted to see if anyone knew about it.

Following the remembered route, Qi Leren came to the Twilight Township’s NPC settlement, which was close to "Red’s" home where he’d been staying while undercover with the Slaughter Secret Society. Qi Leren was afraid he would meet some believers who hadn’t been arrested, so he put on his cloak for safety.

Under the setting sun, a large amount of water vapor gushed out from the rusty iron pipes on both sides of the road, seeming like smoke when seen from a distance.

There was a tavern in the depths of the alley near a garbage dump made of scrap iron. The iron waist-high iron gate couldn’t keep out the noisy sounds coming from the building. Men played cards, drank, and chatted loudly, making this remote tavern seem very lively.

Qi Leren pushed open the waist-high iron gate and walked into the pub.

The tavern owner recognized him, the man with short curly hair asking enthusiastically, "I haven't seen you in a long time, Qi."

"I’ve been busy with some things recently," Qi Leren answered and looked around.

The NPC Rudd he is looking for wasn’t here... This was unusual. Every time he’d come here before, he was drunk in the corner of the pub. According to the plot, if he bought him a drink, he would recount his memories with a face of snot and tears, the tragic battle where mankind's Holy City was overtaken by demons more than 20 years ago, and then he would go to the churchyard to pay homage to his comrades.

"Where's the drunk?" Qi Leren asking, pointing to the corner of the pub.

"Oh, him. Just now, a man in a cloak came to have a drink with him and then they left together. Before leaving, the guy even paid off the wine bill he owed. I’m really grateful," said the boss.

Qi Leren's face changed instantly: "What did the man look like?"

"I don't know, he was also wearing a cloak. I couldn't see his face clearly," the boss said. "But I haven't seen him here before. I don't remember his voice... Hey, don't you want your wine?"

"Keep it!" Qi Le rushed out of the pub and headed for the abandoned church not far away without looking back.

The main task’s next step was there!

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

[stars-insight]

Subjects as People

♥ English ♥

—English radiates power and makes people crumble down before her in fear, but deep down she's just a really kind-hearted lady.

—Most people refuse to understand her, but once you fall for her charms, you'll say you've never seen a finer language.

—Yes, she can be a little insane at times, but who can blame her? She's been around since forever!

—You can find her somewhere in a library, with her reading glasses on, immersed in a good old classic.

—Variable.... ah, personas.

'Thee shall now get lost from min sight, you bloody excuse of a human. Fetch me my tea, mate.'

♥ Mathematics ♥

This guy is literally everywhere!!! You can find him lurking near Biology sometimes, or interfering with Chemistry whenever she needs to calculate moles or balance her equations. Physics is his BFF. They're always together. He's scared of English, and it's all that's keeping him from approaching her.

—Mathematics is kind of annoying because he is overly optimistic. He thinks there's a solution for every problem.

—Kind of obsessive over his Ex, who he cannot find since 1637. No wonder she left him.

—Knows people who buy 1200 watermelons and use children to calculate their shares of money to this day.

—The biggest cause of teenage depression.

'Johnny bought 123976 apples. Rachel has 34 crayons. Find x.'

♥ Biology ♥

—Bio is life. Literally. She's good natured and kind hearted, and will make you paranoid; you'll have aplastic anemia, a brain aneurysm or some other deadly disease if you start paying attention to her.

—Has the best pick-up lines.

—Extremely charming, as long as you have a good memory and don't smoke.

—There's a darker side to her, so don't bring up molecular genetics while she's around.

—The one thing everyone knows about her: Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.

'You give me sudden Protracted Cardiac Arrhythmia every time I see you.'

♥ Chemistry ♥

—She can be very fun unless she's organic.

—Runs an elemental Marriage Bureau, and is almost always busy pairing up random elements together. Also specializes as a divorce attorney in Electrolysis.

—Only Group VIII elements are helpless. She's given up on them.

—Chemistry is a very bossy, yet graceful lady, who enjoys spending time with Biology and Medicine. They sometimes work on projects together.

—She's got a lot of moles.

'Your Gallus gallus domesticus cooked in C88H164O10 lacks a little bit of NaCl.'

♥ Physics ♥

—He's usually very smart and logical, but once he goes Quantum, he stops making sense.

—Him and Mathematics go hand in hand most of the time.

—Makes you feel like the magical world doesn't exist until you start learning Quantum Mechanics. You're basically a wizard from there onwards.

—He's perceived as anti-feminist by many people, even though he's a huge fan of Marie Curie. Says she made him who he is today.

—Claims that the world is 85% dark matter, although he still has no clue what the hell that is.

—Everyone gangsta until he starts talking.

—He's got no life what-so-ever, and is kind of lonely, since no lady approaches him because of his big Quantum mouth and E = mc2 jokes.

"Air resistance who? WHAT?! I don't know anyone called Friction."

♥Psychology♥

—The other sciences don't consider her to be one of their own, so she usually hangs out with the Liberal Arts.

—She is actually pretty interesting and attracts people who have never studied her before. Those who have can't be found near and far.

—If you are from the middle east, you have been told that she has no scope. Periodt.

—Once you start to hang out with her, the paranoia that you have every single mental illness she describes. So you try a self diagnosis.

—Has a sweet personality, but she kind of has an eerie vibe to her sometimes. She can also be quite creepy, but that is rare.

"How would I know what you're thinking? I think you're confusing me with my cousin Telepathy."

♥History♥

—He is that one uncle at family reunions who gets drunk and narrates tales from his past. Other than his grandchildren, no one likes him.

—His is extremely anti-feminist. Wants to burn female surgeons and doctors, because he thinks they are witches.

—He can relate absolutely anything to himself. Absolutely ANYTHING.

—At times he lies, and people have different opinions on him, though they all have found some middle ground: he is extremely rude and loves confusing people.

—It's weird how everyone knows he could be lying, but they still rely on him to get their facts checked.

"Back in my day, we had to swim through the pacific ocean, climb over mount Everest and slay dragons on our way to school."

"..."

This is my own original work. You can find the book on Wattpad.

Username: Stars-INsight

[magneticmage]

I'm in the mood for it (plus it's Disability Pride month) so here are all my disabled ocs;

Under cut for Length

Additional Notes; Please do not judge me too harshly. While I have a few of these disabilities (most notably PTSD, anxiety-depression, and visual impairments) myself and personally know people who have some others, every person and their experiences are unique. I try my best to give these disabilities the space and gravity they deserve in my writing, but it is difficult for ones that I have no personal experience with. In addition, I am still learning and only human. If I have done something wrong or phrased something badly at any point now or in the future, let me know and I will do my best to fix it/do better. Apologies for the abrupt disclaimer but there we go.

Anyways!!!!

On the the List!

RWBY;

Selene Argent=Has PTSD, one prosthetic eye, and some physical scars on face and torso. I'd safely say she counts.

Baldur's Gate;

Sable Shades=Is an albino and was rendered mute at birth. He sunburns extremely easily and is near-sighted. He also often communicates through sign language.

Roan Roarke=Beyond some minor PTSD symptoms (increased anxiety and stress levels) surrounding fires, he's perfectly fine.

Faenerys Elendir=Has PTSD from her time imprisoned particular involving whips and brands as torture implements.

Rune Mistsea=Post-lycanthropy encounter, he is notably more short-tempered around the full moon along with a distinct craving for meat and violence. Otherwise, nothing else of note.

Lucine Mistsea=Beyond a notable paranoia issue when it comes to demons and cambions (but not fellow tieflings), she's fine.

Lyr(e/a/an) Lovemoor=Autistic. Too much light and noise and surrounding activity is draining and makes them short-tempered with occasional blowouts/meltdowns. Has a Thing about certain textures (very much hates slimes and oozes and squishy things for this reason, likes silks and furs and leathers). Has a fascination for all things shiny and glittery (gems and currencies are a special interest). Also often fidgets with their daggers.

Saga Musehart=Was rendered blind due to torture at the hands of prison guards. She also lost a hand (initially) and a forearm (later due to infection) and wears a prosthesis.

Cei Gloomdraft=Autistic or at least neurodivergent of some kind. Might have some ADHD, it's not quite clear yet in the few pieces I've written so far to help develop her.

Mass Effect;

(Solo Shepard Canon)

Annette Shepard=Has some lingering PTSD symptoms from surviving a raid on Mindoir, then thresher maws in Akuze, and then being spaced at the beginning in Mass Effect 2. She also suffers from some survivor's guilt Post-Virmire due to losing Ashley, and then all of Mass Effect 3 puts such a huge burden on her that she's fighting off some severe depression and despair from all the losses. She's got an old war injury in her shoulder that acts up from time to time, occasionally making her biotics misfire a barrier. She's on immuno-suppressant drugs to prevent her body from rejecting her Cerberus-added cybernetic implants and upgrades, and also some antidepressants for depression and anxiety symptoms for said lingering PTSD symptoms. Girl's a walking disaster-fire mentally but she keeps on surviving and she still looks for the good in life as it comes, so there's that.

(Shepard Siblings)

Joanna=Like Roscoe and Riley, she's also on immuno-suppressants to prevent cybernetic implant rejection. Notably, she's the most well-adjusted of the three mentally, although the losses and struggles of ME 3 start to take their toll due to depression. She spends an awkward month on the Normandy adjusting to the new medication while adjusting the amounts needed. In addition, she also goes through a whole existential crisis come the Citadel DLC about if she is really Joanna Shepard or a clone (which Riley, Roscoe, and the Normandy crew snap her out of). Her survivor's guilt is much less pronounced than Riley's though she does start the early stages of a martyr complex (it's a source of frequent and well-humored debate between Riley and Roscoe if it was already there or not) about the of Thane's death. But she does her best and keeps on going.

Roscoe=Definitely mentally ill. He's got some trauma around abandonment that starts to get fully addressed around ME 2 in part due to Jack and Miranda and is mostly resolved around ME 3 though naturally scars remain. It often manifests as anger, depression, and even callousness. Like Joanna's and Riley, he is on immuno-suppressants to prevent the potential rejection of his cybernetics. He's also got an old wound from Torfan in his abdomen that acts up under stronger pressures like before a rainstorm or different gravity levels as well as drastic temperature changes such as cold (he HATES Noveria for that reason in particular though it isn't the only one, man). Beyond all that, he's very strong-willed and gives no fucks to shit.

Riley=Much like Annette except a bit more well-adjusted due to a larger support network and character drive. Has notable flashbacks/triggers around batarians, thresher maws (this one includes panic attacks once the direct danger has passed), and hardsuit complications (they always makes sure that their helmet and everything is in working and optimal order). Has survivor's guilt from their losses on Mindoir and Akuze but between meeting Talitha and Toombs in ME 1, they confront and deal with it, beginning to heal from it. Even on Virmire with the loss of Honora and all the failures of ME 3, they do better at handling it though it still remains to varying degrees. Like Joanna's and Roscoe (and Annette again), they're on immuno-suppressant drugs to prevent issues with their body rejecting the cybernetics, with the additional ones of antidepressants to help manage some of their anxiety-depression symptoms. They also have some degree of chronic pain (maybe some kind of cystic fibrosis?) due to past overuse of their biotics that damaged part of their nervous system and occasionally causes it to misfire for no reason, often causing intense pain. Rarely and only if the pain isn't treated with extensive biotics-free rest periods and numbing agents in the form of more pills, the biotics will manifest and they'll accidentally move shit around, including themself a few times. This is most notable in ME 3 due to the nature of the larger and longer combat sequences with shorter and shorter rest times between. Though they manage as best they can with the help of their crew and family, it is still a struggle and they notably stop joking about retiring when they're dead and seem to consider it more seriously around ME 3 but save the final decision for the end of the Reaper Wars.

(Shepard Family)

Honora Hartford=She had an eating disorder when she was younger that left some lingering issues with her health but overall she's fine up until her death.

Riley's deceased siblings were overall healthy though Payton had Down's Syndrome and Brooklyn had ADHD. Harley had moderate asthma and used an inhaler.

Clover has anemia quite often and takes iron pills daily

The rest of the Shepard cousins don't have any disabilities to much knowledge though I am still fleshing them out.

(Andromeda)

Sara and Scott Ryder have some lingering damage from their cryopod accident and the Kett leader fucking with them, but otherwise they are okay.

Asher has ADHD while Shiloh struggles with a mild form of chronic fatigue. Evander, Rebecca, and Lucas are all able-bodied.

Dragon Age;

(Fereldan Wardens)

Lynera Mahariel=Dunno if this counts, but am putting it here anyways since it affects her overall health. Occasionally suffers from a type of sleep paralysis that is mixed with night-terrors. It doesn't appear to have a rhyme or reason as to when it occurs beyond perhaps stress and it's only every few months. However, it often leaves her completely drained for at least a week afterwards. She also occasionally has insomnia post-terrors as well which she self-medicates with sleeping draughts. She also has crippling period pains that appear to be consistent with ovarian cysts on her left side (though she later has it removed by Catriona once it ruptures due to injury). She also suffers from bouts of depression during Origins but that could be due to the extenuating circumstances she was under at the time.

Isemaya Tabris=When overly stressed, being exposed to strong amounts of concentrated Taint in a short period of time, or sometimes simply for no apparent reason, she suffers from intense migraines that are often treated with herbal painkillers and lying still in a dark and quiet room. Also due to a past injury to her left eye by humans, she has a harder time seeing on that side but is not completely blind.

Catriona Surana=She seems to be autistic due to her ability and predilection to hyperfocus on various studies (often Blight and magic-related but other areas do occur) as well as her obliviousness to social cues (she didn't realize she was liked by her suitors until Cale outright told her and by then she had decided she liked them already). Notably, she adapts a bit better Post-Origins due to Alistair and Leliana's influences but it still happens.

Cale Amell=Had some minor amnesia surrounding the exact events leading to his magic manifestation but later learned it was because he had set his eldest brother Azul on fire and believed he killed him as Raven helpfully supplied (Azul had instead faked his death as Cale discovers around the time of Awakening).

Fion Cousland=Briefly suffers from a minor alcohol addiction but has treatment while he is still in the functional phase courtesy of Catriona. Since then, he heavily monitors his intake and even helps Oghren get treatment for his own. He also occasionally has painful muscle twinges due to an injury that stretches from his temple to his eye and ear down to his neck on the right side. This is most notable in bad weather or when he is sick.

Barran Aeducan=Suffered from a superiority-inferiority complex towards his siblings growing up though it has greatly lessened with time and experience. It is mostly gone by the time of Inquisition though prominent traces still remain.

Tatha Brosca=She is hard of hearing and has manged to cope by learning to lip-read (not always successful, however, especially with languages she is not familiar with) in Origins and a pair of hearing "horns" designed for her by an admiring Smith caste man by Awakening. She often jokes that now she has even more in common with her Bronto companion, Salroka, due to their shared horns.

(Origins)

Vireth Mahariel=Suffers from epilepsy and often treats it with various herbal remedies, though it is not completely effective and large amounts of intense stress on his body make it worse. He also begins to develop cataracts around the time of Act 2 of Dragon Age 2, though the cause is unknown (presumed genetics or simply age at the moment).

Elthorn Tabris=Has a stutter speech impediment.

Alaros Surana=Unknown at the moment as I haven't written too much about him.

The Amell Siblings=Probably doesn't count but Azul gets motion sickness, especially on boats. Raven, Carmine, and Reed are all perfectly healthy and fine, however the latter two are the ones I've written least at the moment. Marigold has asthma that she treats with herbs.

Aelynne Cousland=Nothing comes to mind. She does have some old injuries (mentally and physically) she acquired from the attack on Highever by Arl Howe that color her later interactions with the family during the Fereldan Civil War.

Valda Aeducan=Has a notable visual impairment that is corrected with glasses, albeit there is nothing to be done for her slight colorblindness (she has a hard type distinguishing between greys, greens, and blues).

(Orlesian Wardens)

Dion Caron=Suffers from sleep apnea that is eased by a special breathing herbal-incense infused mask he wears as well as whomever in his group is on watch to check on him periodically to ensure he still breathes (most often this is either Victoire-Ainsley or Garam). He also snores and coughs due to this. Loudly.

Victoire-Ainsley Caron=Nothing of note.

Isenna Andras=She's an albino and so burns and rashes in intense light and heat. She also has a lame leg that cannot be fixed with magic and so wears a reinforced brace to aid her walk. This creates a noticeable limp.

Garam Kader=Alcohol makes him sick and he suffered from intense gender dysphoria before paying a huge sum to have an ex-Tevinter magister turned fellow Warden help him transition.

(Hawkes)

Jasper, Skye, and Violet Hawke are perfectly healthy. Albeit with some diet restrictions due to various allergies.

Gray Hawke=He is diabetic and so often has to monitor his energy levels to ensure his health. It's part of the reason he doesn't actively endanger his life like his siblings (not that he won't, just less often in comparison). He acquires a truly impressive diet regime and treatment plan upon becoming a nobleman of the Amell family, allowing him much more freedom than before.

(Marquises)

Aurore and Marcel de Serault both suffer from mild hemophilia. Marcel also has a lyrium drug addiction he is trying to break (and is actually doing quite well via weaning himself off it) due to a brief stint as a Templar while serving the Chantry.

(Inquisitors)

Armashok Adaar=Poor eyesight that cannot be fully corrected by glasses and later loses an arm due to the Anchor. He also lost a few fingers and some right hand mobility due to pre-nquisition injuries as a mercenary. He also wears a brace on his left shoulder. He wears a prosthetic eye and replacement arm.

Ransley Trevelyan=Like Cullen, he is working on breaking his own lyrium addiction from his time as a Templar and, like the other Inquisitors, loses his arm due to the Anchor. He had it replaced with a prosthetic arm for his shield side.

Paeriel Lavellan=She loses an arm alongside all the other Inquisitors, but takes the loss much harsher due to her archery skills suffering. While she will wear a prosthesis in battle or when hunting, she doesn't wear it in her day-to-day life, instead preferring to make due as needed. She also has anxiety.

Naranka Cadash=She loses her Anchor-wielding arm and gains a crossbow-and-dagger prosthetic one courtesy of her Inner Circle, much to her delight. She also suffers from some damage to her reproductive tract due to past injuries and is uncertain if she could have children.

(Inner Circle)

Kara Adaar=Beyond an intense hatred of slavery due to being kidnapped and almost sold when she was younger before being rescued by her father, she's perfectly healthy. She does require bedrest for her periods though.

Emilyse Trevelyan=She suffers from some PTSD from her abuse at Templar hands in the Circle, though she begins to recover towards the end of Inquisition.

Samrel Lavellan=Has dyslexia and uses reading aids and memory devices.

Pyrmar Cadash=He might have some PTSD from his Carta days due to a notable cave-in that lasted for a few days before his rescue.

[lamisiboateng]

Basic Information

Full name: Lamisi Esta Boateng Pronunciation: luh-MI-zee ES-tuh BWUH-teng Nickname(s): Lam, Lami Birthdate: 5 January 1986 Age: 33 Zodiac: Capricorn sun, Scorpio moon Gender: Cisgender Woman Pronouns: She/Her Romantic orientation: Biromantic Sexual orientation: Bisexual Nationality: Ghaninian/Iranian Ethnicity: Black British Current location: London, England Living conditions: Lamisi has lived in her ground floor, one-bedroom apartment since she first started residency. She’s well aware at this point she could probably upgrade a bit now that she’s managed to pay off some of her student loans - somewhere where the flooring above her isn’t constantly creeking, or her windows don’t leak everytime it rains - but it falls low on the priority list, and Lamisi hasn’t been bothered. She keeps her living space relatively tidy - her kitchen table tends to be the area of what she calls ‘organized chaos’, sprawled with various papers and her laptop charging. But she rarely leaves clothing lying about or dishes in the sink, finding it’s a bit depressing to come home to a messy apartment after a long shift.

Background

Birthplace: London, England Hometown: London, England Social Class: Middle Class Educational achievements: MD (speciality in Emergency Medicine) from University College London Father: Adom Boateng, PhD in Chemical Engineering and professor at Oxford University Mother: Esta Tehrani (left early in life, location/status unknown) Sibling(s): N/A Pets: N/A Previous relationships: Ibrahim Ayadi; met through her father at Oxford, dated 2016-2018; mutual break-up. Others TBD. Arrests: N/A Prison time: N/A

Occupation & Income

Current occupation: Emergency Room Physician at UCL Hospital Dream occupation: N/A; Lamisi enjoys being a physician too much to consider moving to administration, but would consider revisiting further speciality training later in life Past job(s): Part-time at The British Library in undergrad Spending habits: Big saver; prefers to cut back on frivolous things or thrift and put the rest toward loans or in her savings. Has been known to go on an Instragam ad binge late at night and buy clothes/shoes she’ll never wear. In debt?: Yes, med school loans Most valuable possession: Camel-colored, Yves Saint Laurent work tote given to her by her father as a graduation present; valued at £1,910

Skills & Abilities

Physical strength: Below Average Speed: Average Intelligence: Above Average Accuracy: Above Average Agility: Average Stamina: Above Average Teamwork: Works well with others; takes direction efficiently (as long as she agrees with said direction), but can step into a leadership role if needed. Tends to be quieter/observant when others in the group are outspoken. Talents/hobbies: Spelling, trivia, memorizing, swimming (competed briefly in grade school) Shortcomings: Know-it-all, skeptical, rigid, serious Languages spoken: English, basic Spanish Drive?: Yes Jump-start a car?: No Change a flat tyre?: No Ride a bicycle?: Yes Swim?: Yes Play an instrument?: No, but wishes she did; has dated more than one piano player Play chess?: Yes Braid hair?: Yes Tie a tie?: Yes Pick a lock?: No Cook?: Yes, but rarely does it properly

Physical Appearance & Characteristics

Faceclaim: Freema Agyeman Eye colour: Dark brown, nearly black Hair colour: Black Hair type/style/length: 3C and long; tends to wear it in braids/styled with heat and pulled away from the face Glasses/contacts?: Wears contacts during the day/on the clock, glasses at home Dominant hand: Right Height: 5′3″/160cm Weight: 54 kg Build: Slim, relatively average build Exercise habits: Swims at the local gym maybe once a week, cycles to and from the hospital Skin tone: Dark (Type VI) Tattoos: None Piercings: Double lobe and helix piercing in both ears, right nostril (has mostly closed up over time) Marks/scars: 3-cm, circular scar on left knee from scraping it open on a bike fall a few years back, 1-cm scar on right forearm from a mole biopsy as a child Clothing style: Warm neutrals with bright pops of color, simple gold accessories, and high-waisted trousers/shorts. Typically wears flat-bottomed shoes - sneakers or boots - for the sake of comfort. Jewelry: Doesn’t wear jewelry beyond a smart watch due to work most of the time; otherwise, faux-diamond studs and/or gold hoops in ear piercings Allergies: Significant kiwi allergy, carries EpiPen in her purse (most of the time) Diet: Predominantly easy or frozen food. She’ll occasionally batch-cook vegetables or protein to eat throughout the week, but has a specific weakness for salty/spicy junk foods and keeps vinegar crisps in her desk at work. Physical ailments: N/A

Psychology

MBTI type: INFJ-A (The Advocate; insightful, altruistic, perfectionist) Enneagram type: Type 1: The Reformer Moral Alignment: Lawful Neutral Temperament: Phlegmatic Element: Water Emotional stability: Stable; calm, rarely becomes too excited or agitated Introvert or Extrovert?: A little of both depending on the setting; extroverted in a one-on-one setting, introverted in a large group Obsession(s): Researching unknown topic, remaining with a task until completed Compulsion(s): Checking her e-mail, organizing Phobia(s): Acrophobia (fear of heights) Addiction(s): None Drug use: No Alcohol use: Social drinking Prone to violence?: No Prone to crying?: No Believe in love at first sight?: No

Mannerisms

Accent: Middle-class English Speech quirks: Often thinks as she’s speaking; will cut herself off mid-sentence Hobbies: Cycling, crosswords, watching hours of reality television late at night Habits: Moves around quite a bit before she falls asleep, twirls her pen between her fingers when she’s thinking Nervous ticks: Jiggling her leg if she’s sitting, averting her eyes Drives/motivations: Helping others, being (one of) the smartest in the room Fears: Complete isolation, never knowing what happened to her biological mother, death Sense of humour?: Can be too serious at times, but can joke more casually if in familiar company. Often surface-level, light-hearted and warm. Do they curse often?: Yes

Favourites

Animal: Duck Beverage: Vodka cran, plain latte with 2% Book: Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll Colour: Red Food: Her father’s chichinga (a Ghanaian kebab made with chicken/beef, spices, peppers, and peanuts) Flower: Peonies Gem: Opal Mode of transportation: Bicycle Scent: Bergamot, espresso, freshly-cut flowers Sport: Swimming, (watching) rugby Weather: Overcast or rainy Vacation destination: Peru

Attitudes

Greatest dream: Being a successful physician Greatest fear: Never discovering what happened to her biological mother Most at ease when: In the emergency room, at home with a close friend Least as ease when: Flying in an airplane Worst possible thing that could happen: Dying young/alone Biggest achievement: Graduating medical school Biggest regret: Prioritizing academia/work over her personal life