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Warlock
Love is sweet, but blood is sweeter. You want to be something better than you are, so you pretend. You may have most people fooled, but I see you for what you are: afraid. You cling to your delusions, and you hide in the shadows watching from a distance as the jealousy consumes you. You don't feel like a person. You feel like a monster wearing a human's skin. You try to peel it off, layer by layer, but all you find is flesh because, despite what you think, you aren't a monster. Calling you obsessive would be an understatement. You devour the things you love. You have an insatiable hunger that needs to be fed, so eat. Tear them apart. Eat them, so they won't be able to leave you the way everyone else does. You will finally be one with them. Isn't that what you want? To be just like them?
What I think you need to hear: You might want to see a therapist, my dear. Just don't fall in love with with them because they're the first person to not turn away from your darkness.
Malakai
Does the pain make it better? Why do you think you deserve it? You don't. You hurt others, so they don't hurt you first. They can't know how weak you really are. It's an instinct. Something primal inside of you. An anger that's ticking like a bomb. You think you're in control of it, but it controls you. You don't know what you'll do when it finally explodes. The anger is all you know. It's your only defense. What would you be without it? You think you need the pain to keep you going. It is the only thing keeping you from buckling underneath the pressure you put on yourself. Others think your standards are too high. You think they're settling for mediocrity. Maybe if you meet your impossible standards, you'll finally make your parents proud. Isn't that what you've really been fighting for all this time?
What I think you need to hear: Remember that violence isn't love. Don't push yourself too hard. Rest. I'm proud of you.
Jericho
So starved for love, you'd do anything to just have a taste of it. You are thrown scraps and believe you've been gifted a seat at the banquet. You eagerly licked your plate clean, unable to taste the poison. You think your past broke you, but it sharpened you like glass. You miss the softer you. The one who knew how to forgive and how to love. You'll never let yourself get hurt again. Always one foot out the door, you're a flight risk ready to drop everything and everyone at a moments notice. Attachment is a weakness and love is a cage. Your claws are sharp, but your mind is sharper. You're a textbook example of gifted kid burnout. You think you wasted your potential, but your brilliance still shines through in everything you do. Somewhere inside of you, your edges aren't so jagged. Deep down, you still have hope in the world. Hope for change, for love, and for healing. You're edges will soften again oneday.
What I think you need to hear: Don't let regret eat you alive. It's not fair you're left to pick up the pieces for something someone else broke, but that's life, my friend. I will be there to help you glue yourself back together, if you let me.
Lazarus
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and scorned you have been. You are a paragon of suffering. You poor, sweet, delicious thing. Something in the dark hunts you like you're prey mistaking you for a sacrificial lamb. But, what it doesn't know is that you are a wolf in sheep's clothing, and your fangs know the taste of flesh. You killed the old you in order to survive, and in turn, you have become something monstrous, something that can't be described as human anymore. You are now that very thing that goes bump in the night, the thing that nightmares are made of. Your descent into madness is paved in blood. You can't remember if that blood once belonged to you. You've held love in your arms before. You held it so tightly that it suffocated, and began to rot through your fingers. You'd do anything to get it back. Maybe it will make you human again.
What I think you need to hear: Girl, you scare the fuck out of me, but you're also hot as hell. Use your evil for good use please. One day, you won't have to fight so hard to survive, and you'll learn how to breath again.
Valentine
You hold your breath and stay quiet. To break the silence was to break apart. You are a ghost in your own home. You maintain the image of the dutiful, perfect child, but you are overshadowed and overworked. You feel like your family doesn't know the real you, and you don't know if it's because you make yourself invisible or if that is what they've made of you. You think you are unlovable, but that isn't true. You are unknowable, and it is by your own design. You push people away and think you're doing them a favor. You think you're better off alone, but really you're just afraid of intimacy. How long can you remain cordial before they notice how sharp your teeth are? You weren't bred to be nice. It doesn't come naturally to you. You hold you hold yourself highly, and you should. Your confidence is well earned, and anyone who actually sees you, looks up to you. There's one person who keeps trying to get close to you. You don't get it. They have never been invisible like you have. You have the urge to hide them from the world and make them invisible like you. Are you ashamed of them, or are you ashamed of yourself for being weak? You try to push them away but they keep coming back. You worry, one day, they won't. You try to run from your feelings, but they will catch up to you. The world is ending tomorrow, and you feel relief. You can finally start to live without restraint. You can finally be seen.
What I think you need to hear: Alexa, play Against the Kitchen Floor by Will Wood. Don't make being mean your whole personality. You can't hate yourself into becoming a better person.
Erzel
You are more than an open book. You are desperate to be read. You yearn for eyes that will search for meaning in your words and for fingers to trace along your spine. You long to be seen, to be known. You devote yourself, body and soul, to a God who does not believe in you. He can no longer save you from yourself. People may think a pretty face is all you are, but they underestimate you. Your wit and your kindness knows no bounds. You thrive in chaos, and so you surround yourself with it much to your own detriment. You are always the life of the party because you think everyone's happiness rests on your shoulders, and you cannot rest unless everyone around you is having a good time. Heavy is the motley of the court's jester. You like to have fun and prioritize it over your responsibilities. It distracts you from the fact that you lack direction and conviction. You are aimless and float through life struggling to find meaning in it all. You rely on others to validate you for existing. You pray every night to your unhearing God for a purpose, something to fill the emptiness that grows inside of you. You think that love might be the answer, but you run from it whenever it touches your lips. The emptiness grows larger. How do you grieve something you've never had? Maybe in a past life you were content. Maybe in the next life you will be.
What I think you need to hear: "If it's meant to be, it will be," is not an excuse for inaction. It's okay to not know what you're doing with your life, but you need to figure it out for yourself and not just do what others ask of you.
Glamour
You are gentle to the world because the world was not gentle to you. You find beauty in everything you see and express yourself in everything you do. Your creativity and fashion sense are impeccable. You're a hopeless romantic with their heart on their sleeve, and The weight of your love threatens to break you sometimes. You can't imagine how anyone could love less than you do. Some people may think you're naive, but you are so much smarter than they give you credit for. You aren't blind to the ways of the world. You choose to believe in the goodness of others.
You were often called mature for your age, but now it seems your peers have outgrown you. Forced to grow up early, you now try to nurture the forgotten child inside of you. You are sentimental and sensitive. You cry over the crime of being small. You take pictures and ache over memories of the people you love. You begin to miss things before they're even gone. Plenty of time before you, but never quite enough. You have a habit of chasing after unavailable people because you are often happier living in a fantasy than reality. You yearn for a love that will make a poet out of you, the kind of love that fairytales are made out of. You think all of your troubles can be kissed away and that falling asleep in someone's arms will solve all of your problems. You're a little delusional.
What I think you need to hear: You love with everything you have, but be careful, my dear, some may try to take advantage of your kindness. You remind me there is goodness in the world because you are good. Also, you DO deserve a sweet little treat.
Caldrae
You heart begs to go home, but the home you once had was nothing more than a fantasy from when you were blinded to world. Your eyes are open now. You can never go home. Something died in that house. The scent of death coats your skin. You cannot run from it no matter how hard you try. You long for the day your bones are enveloped by the earth because it will be the first time you are held without guilt. You think something's wrong with you because you don't know how to cry. There should be some overwhelming grief that buried you along with them, but the tears never come. Did you not love her enough? You try to forget. You try to laugh. It feels empty. Hugs feel hollow. Words feel cheap. But, a lot can change in time. You can hear laughter from the next room, and you step inside. You're trying to learn how to live again. You start to love again. You beg for forgiveness for moving on. You've started to make peace with yourself, make amends, and make friends. You cling to hope and fight tooth and nail to better yourself. You never want to hurt others the way you've been hurt. You build a new home with your friends, and you take the role of a pillar of support that can't break. You don't know how to ask for help when you need it, and you use humor to cope with the pain. Remind yourself that your friends would die for you just as soon as you'd die for them. One day you cry, and for the first time, someone is there to hold you.
What I think you need to hear: It's going to be okay, but it's going to be different. Healing isn't linear. Thank you for always being there for me. You deserve peace.