#Phycological question

[chowdragun]

A little phycological question for ya'll, what determines a character being too far gone that redemption becomes impossible even if they decide they want it? At what point does a person become a monster?

I believe a person reaches that point when they genuinely start to believe that they are the hero even as the world burns around them and yet they still, with all their heart, believe they are truly doing it for the better despite all the blood, death, and despair surrounding them.

Some examples are Judge Claud Frollo and the High Evolutionary to name a couple, but I'm very interested in what ya'll think on the matter.

[idontcaboose]

Luthor's Cricket part 5

Previous. Masterpost

Lex was able to distract the teen with a different documentary in the living room of his Penthouse. Said teen, however, made it loudly known that some of the information they were using was false, stupid, and downright biased. Granted, Lex was not paying attention when selecting the first documentary on the list. Apparently, it was a supernatural one called ‘All but Paranormal’ or something of the like. From the shouting, Lex could gather that they were able to interview Zatanna and Dr. Fate, Phantom took great exception to whatever Dr. Fate had to say about Ghost, Demons, and other supernatural creatures. Lex did bark a laugh at Phantom's remark of “Fate's biased view is just as blatant as that glaring beacon of a head!” and “If Fate is a Doctor, then I fear for the intellectual competency of the rest of the world! This means you too, Mr. Luthor!” Lex simply ignored the last part.

Oddly enough, even with the obnoxious commentary from Phantom and the absolute frustration of his magically inclined contacts ignoring him, it was not as tiring as he thought it would be.

“Phantom.” Lex called as he left his office. 

 “Yes, Boss?” Phantom paused the TV and turned to him with a small lopsided smile.

“Do you eat?” Lex asked. 

Phantom clearly did not expect the question with how his face displayed shock and confusion. “Uh, ya. I can eat human food. It's not needed, but it's nice to have. Why?”

“It is about time for dinner, I am thinking Foie Gras-” 

“Do all rich people eat such pretentious sounding food? Seriously, what is wrong with just burgers, burritos, and mac n’ cheese?” Phantom said with derision.

“Some people like to experience the finer things in life-” 

“When was the last time you enjoyed a “finer” thing that wasn't the direct cause of flaunting your power?” Phantom asked seriously. “Just one time.”

Lex…. He found himself at a loss. When Was the last time he actually enjoyed food for its taste alone. Most food prepared at the Galas were pretty cardboard at best. The high-end restaurants were better quality, but Lex only went to those as a power display, and even then, it was for a business deal or a ‘relaxed’ meeting of sorts. Even when he is home alone, he would order high value items so the staff wouldn't spread gossip about his ‘actual’ tates to the papers. The cooks he employed were fantastic at their jobs, the food was always flavorful and filling. 

But….

Probably the last time he actually enjoyed a meal was when his younger sister visited. She brought with her some greasy, cheesy mess of a burger wrapped in foil from a truck from the park across the street. She had laughed at his disgusted face and said “If it was good enough for Bruce Wayne and his kid to stand in line for, it's good enough for us!” 

That was about eight years ago.

After that meal, they had fought, and she stormed out. She has only contacted him through email for Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas. 

Lex ordered pizza from his cooks that night.

Next

[phycoticneutral]

Does anyone fundamentally experience the universe differently?

[equusmaniac]

Ramble Incoming!⚠️

I'm usually not one to talk much about fandoms or franchises. I'm not even in all that many. Because, to me, they're too much like politics in regards to drama. (Yes, I said it). And I don't feel the need to deal with that. The most I find myself doing in fandoms is showing off my art, and swiftly going back to my corner.

But, I'mma open the can of worms that are my educated opinions. Thus, I might step on some toes. Just… don't take anything personally. Hahah, I'm not out to start beef with anyone. I'm just doing this for fun and to see what others think. I'm 100% up to having some friendly debates! So, feel free to Ask me if you want. :)

Today, Transformers is going to be my victim: I've been watching this fandom for a while… And boy, is it funny to watch y'all chase your own tails. Especially in regards to how y'all treat new content. (All fandoms with continuities do this, not just us).

People always complain that the new show/movie isn't good because and-I-quote. "It's not loyal to the original!"

Of course, creators can't copy-paste the old stuff. With new people, things will change. And that's okay.

Yes, some things—such as the themes and characters' cores, extra—should stay similar. Y'all forget that the new stuff is basically just professional fanfiction that's at this rate. *cough* And that G1 was a slapstick comedy, but I digress. But, give it 10 years, people like the older stuff that… for lack of a better term, everyone hated. It's suddenly much better compared to the new releases.

With that said, I can't really give my opinions on All Spark or Rise Of The Beasts. I haven't seen them yet. So I don’t feel very comfortable talking about them without context.

But what I can give my opinions on are the characters. Specifically how the fandom treats them.

I'm going to use Optimus Prime (the strong one) and Bumblebee (the golden child) as my main examples here.

Starting with the one and only leader of the Autobots:

One of the most common things I see people comment on is. "Optimus is too [insert reason]!" Then go on some tangent. (Which is normally valid, no hate). And the most common statement is that he's 'too' violent… but let me break it to ya… he's not. He deserves to be darker.

Now, hear me out!

This trend started with Bayverse, which yes, I'm not saying those movies are perfect or the best out there. A better part of the writing sucked! (I don't blame them for it, writers kept and still are going on strike). But… they're not as bad as most fans painted them to be. So let me play the Devil's advocate here, please.

The Optimus in the blockbuster films was brutal, yes. But that's not all he was.

Out of all the Primes in most of the movies and shows (I'm not including the IDW comics, I haven't read them yet), he is the most traumatized. Don't believe me? Just think about it.

He not only had what reality he knew torn out from underneath him once, but twi—wait no… three times! Once with the fall of Cybertron (his home), second with Sentinel's betrayal (his father figure), and third with humanity (a race he swore to protect). He has had it rough! Geez…

Not only did he already have very poor coping skills from the beginning. And what support system he did have ended up getting killed, for gosh sake. And now all he has left is Bumblebee and… a load of jerks. I would talk more about this but, Transformers and support systems are a completely different ramble for another time.

No wonder he's mad! I would be too.

Optimus is very obviously grasping at straws here. Yet he still tries his best with the resources he's given. Guys… he tried to give Cade relatable reassurance about his parenting struggles! And that was after humanity started to hunt him down and all the nonsense that ensued afterward.

Another thing that is implied in the movies—that much like Bumblebee—he was a CHILD SOLDIER. (Most of them were if you look at it). He obviously started fighting quite young. So it makes sense, that first and foremost as a soldier he would learn the best and fastest ways to defeat his enemies. Regardless of whether it was seen as brutal or dirty. He would get versed in those techniques after thousands of years of fighting. He gets the job done, that's all that matters.

Y'all also forget that most of the time his opponents were three-plus heads taller than him… ya do what ya gotta keep your loved ones safe, folks.

I love the fact that he has character flaws.

But, he's the strong one, the example child. So the fandom has hung a special set of standards that he must uphold.

Which brings me to Bumblebee, the golden child. Y'all complain to High Heaven about Bayverse. But the Bumblebee movie? Not a peep.

Do NOT get me wrong folks. I adore the Bumblebee movie (and Bee as a character) as much as anyone! But, y'all completely overlooked the fact that… It has some of the most brutal fights in the franchise. Are y'all going to really ignore the fact that Bee shredded Dropkick with a chain? That is on par with how Bayverse Starscream died. Which was just a slower version of Dropkick's death. Speaking of whom, Optimus didn't kill him. N.E.S.T did. And it's by far the most violent death in the blockbuster films. Along with poor Ravage (R.I.P) who… surprise, surprise! Bumblebee killed. Almost no one talks about that…

*Thinks for a moment* Jazz too. Megatron killed him. And no one really commented on how brutal that was either, because it was expected. It's Megatron, he's been shown to be brutal for ages. Ol’ Bucket Head is also very violent in the blockbuster films, big whoop. What am I getting at here? So it makes sense that Prime and everyone else has to keep up with him. I'm afraid G1's 'carefree' passive Optimus wasn't very realistic when you look at the facts of things…

If people are going to talk about how out of character Optimus taking a Decepticon head off is. What about Ironhide? Hound? Bumblebee? He's ripped bots spines out! That is definitely out of character for the OG Bee. Please, keep them all to the same realistic standards!

Which brings me to my next point.

Things tend to be heavily rooted in bias. And with continuities like Transformers, that bias is nostalgia. None of the shows, movies, or comics are going to be perfect, or ever have been perfect. Not only is the notion of perfection impossible but… It's HASBRO. Why do you expect so much from them? They can’t keep jack-squat consistent for anything they own. We all know they have a nasty habit of dropping the coolest lore and never talking about it again… this franchise deserves so much better. It deserves to be shown exactly as it is; a story about a civil war. *sigh* Such a shame.

Anywho… I should probably stop talking now. XD, This is three Google Docs pages long. So apologies! I hope my thoughts (if you made it this far) were interesting at least. I don't know if I made the best of points but, oh well…

Till we meet again, Shalom,

-TonnerreBlanc⚡

[badbarbbie]

cold blooded

been watching a lot of crime documenters and these are some questions that been on my mind :

what makes a murderer?

Is it the life they live and the choices they make ?

or is it a chemical imbalance in the brain?

Do they choose to kill or simply have no choice?

Will god forgive them or will them be condemned?

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Since you did all the others- what about catnap and player who's not all there?

This is very angsty, Catnap still dies and the Player is subjected to phycological tortured by him. Part one, two and three.

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

CatNap & Player who's not all there

★ CatNap observes you from a distance. Watching how you always seem to be a bit lost. He saw you put down a piece of paper, walk to the other end of the haul, go back to where you were before, re-read the paper because you forgot what it said. Then do it again but forget where you put the paper. Ten seconds after putting it down.

★ He likes to play with you, messing with your head for fun. The red smoke doesn't help much. You hate his smoke more than anything. It causes you to see things, bad things, that aren't there. Making it harder to tell what's real or not.

★ CatNap enjoys playing with your mind. When your eyes dart around, looking for something not there, Catnap watches. Amused with how you don't need the red smoke to question reality. You're like a new toy, just for him! Hopefully you don't break too soon.

★ The fear in your eyes is like fuel to CatNap. Each time you catch a glimpse of him, you freeze. Unsure if it was real or not. The broken state you're in is a testament to his control over Playcare, and all who enter.

★ As the Prototype carries CatNap's body away, The Player watches in silence. Not sure of what they've just seen. Was it another hallucination, or is he really gone? Why do you still feel like he's watching you?

[liyliths]

.˚𓅆࿐ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 an aot au / inspired by the hunger games

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

series summary: survive. that's all you've known you're entire life - to survive. survive district 12, survive the reaping, and survive the capitol. but when you're reaped for the 98th annual hunger games alongside levi ackerman, will you seize the opportunity of rebellion when it arises? the mockingjay is singing, dear reader, please choose wisely.

"I don’t sleep," Levi finally mutters. You scoff. "Ha, funny." He pushes off the railing. "Fine then, I’m going back to my room." "Wait," you say instinctively, your free hand catching his wrist before he can leave. "Don’t go." Levi closes his eyes, considering for just a moment before sighing, pulling his hand from your grasp. But instead of leaving, he places his hands back onto the railing. "Alright." You glance down at the city below, your fingers tracing the patterns of your dessert plate. "I’m sorry I went after you earlier," you say.

pairings: levi ackerman x reader

contains: fem!reader, strangers to lovers, slow burn, hurt and comfort, semi canon compliant, character death, descriptions of blood, phycological trauma, rebellion, this is gonna hurt but be so rewarding, and any other warnings that come with aot characters/the hunger games universe

word count: 7.4k

playlist

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After a night of slumber, your team got to work on you and Levi by noon in preparation for the interviews. Your lessons with Hannes and Valerie are over, now the day belongs to Hange. You’re washed down, re-waxed which wasn’t pleasant in the slightest, and your hair was done into a neat updo. 

By late afternoon, your makeup was done. You were all ready aside from the finishing touch being your dress, which you were anxious to try on. Hange mentioned something about more fire, and even though you survived the first outfit, you wonder how this one will work. 

Will you and Levi be matching once again? Will you end up getting burnt? No, you trust Hange enough now to not question that. 

Hange returned to your room with what you guessed to be your dress. “Close your eyes,” she smiles.

It’s surprisingly heavy, the weight of it pressing against your shoulders, cascading down your frame like a waterfall of silk, and something feathery. It clings to your form perfectly, as if it were sculpted just for you. Hange moves quickly, fastening clasps, smoothing the fabric against your waist, adjusting the shoulders.

The texture is unlike anything you’ve ever worn. It isn’t the rough, patchy fabric of District 12, nor the sleek artificial materials of the Capitol. Instead, it’s a blend of soft and sharp, of feathers that ripple like shadows and embroidery that feels like embers beneath your fingertips.

“Alright,” Hange breathes, and you can hear the excitement underneath her voice. “Open your eyes!”

You blink your eyes open, readjusting to the bright lights above as you try to catch a glimpse of your reflection in the full length mirror before you. Your breath catches in your chest. The girl staring back at you is unrecognizable. Is it really you?

The dress is made of layered black feathers, so intricately placed that they look as if they were real, shifting with even the smallest movement. The bodice is tight, sculpted to fit you perfectly, the details glimmering like the dying glow of embers beneath a thick layer of ash. 

Your hands trail down the dress, where the feathers grow heavy and thick until they transform. The hem of the dress burns. Not literally, but the illusion is flawless. The edges glow with hues of orange, red, and gold, flickering like a dying fire, like a bird ready to take flight. It isn’t still, the flames seem to breathe, to move, licking at the ground but never consuming.

“Well?” Hange glances at you, watching your reflection in the mirror.

“Wow…” you breathe. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Hange clasps her hands together excitedly. “Of course, darling! You look gorgeous. Are you ready for the interview?”

Judging by the look on your stylist’s face, you can tell she’s talked to Hannes and Valerie by now. They’ve probably told her you’ll be hopeless in earning over the audience with your words, but you know they’re not wrong.

“No, not really. Hannes told me I have about as much charm as a dead slug,” you admit, absentmindedly fiddling with the feathers on your dress.

Hange does her best to stifle a laugh, gracefully clearing her throat. "Well, you charm me. Why don’t you just try and be yourself?"

Those words grate on your nerves, but you don’t find yourself mad at Hange. No, you’re mad at Hannes for even telling you those excruciating words yesterday in the first place. You are being yourself, but apparently, that won’t be enough. Not charming, witty, or charismatic enough to win anyone over.

You exhale, forcing the frustration down before it can fester. "Apparently, that’s not working out for me," you mutter, shrugging as you turn away from your reflection to meet Hange’s gaze.

She hums thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her chin. "Say, when you answer the questions, why don’t you pretend you're talking to a friend from back home?"

The suggestion makes you pause. A friend. Petra.

You could answer the questions as if you were talking to her. The way she’d listen, the way she’d smile, the way she always made you feel like your words meant something. Why didn’t you think of this? Not even Hannes or Valerie could have! God, Hange is a genius.

“Thank you, Hange. It’s a plan.” 

“Of course, dear. Now, let's get you going,” Hange quips, briskly guiding you by the shoulders to the waiting room where all the tributes prepare for their interviews. 

You two took the elevator to the waiting room just behind the huge interview stage. The ride was quiet, but just as you exchanged a small goodbye with Hange when the doors slid open, she grabbed your shoulder to stop you.

“Oh! How could I forget!” Hange says excitedly, fixing a few feathers on your dress and neatly smoothing them out. “Make sure you spin when you’re on stage.”

“What?”

Hange couldn’t help but laugh at your confusion. “It’ll be a surprise.”

Now your guess is more fire, just as she had mentioned earlier. “I’m excited to see what you’ve planned out.” you smile.

“Me too darling, me too. Now, move along. Levi should be waiting by now!” Hange exclaims, ushering you out of the elevator door. You don’t even get a chance to say goodbye before the doors slide close, leaving you on your own to find your seat.

You look for Levi, brisking over the tributes in their seats, who are all anxiously waiting for the interviews to begin. As your eyes scan the room, you catch a glimpse of blonde hair—Armin. You were going to wave, but you noticed he wasn’t exactly paying attention—too busy in a hushed conversation with the black-haired District 4 tribute. 

What business do those two have with each other? You’d never admit it out loud, but if you’re already petrified of that girl, Armin should be the last person that would ever want to be that close to her, let alone conversing with her! Well, even though he’s not very strong, that boy does have some brains. What if he’s trying to form an alliance? 

Though, if he were smart, he wouldn’t form one in the first place, because that’s a real easy way to get yourself betrayed and killed.

You don’t have much time to ponder on their business with each other, as you’re snapped out of your thoughts by none other than Levi calling your name. He’s sat in the back row of chairs, of course, being District 12. He’ll be the last tribute of the night to be interviewed, with you going right before him. 

It is hardly a laughing matter, but you can’t help but hold back a snicker at the thought of that boy in front of hundreds of thousands of Capitol citizens attempting to be charming. You imagine he’d give simple yes or no answers, or even be bold enough to ignore the questions entirely.

“Hey,” you whisper, picking up the bottom of your dress to sit beside the raven-haired boy. This time, he isn’t styled identical to you. He is dressed in a charming all black suit with fiery red accents, his hair neatly styled in a slick back. You can’t help but think he looks handsome, though you’d never dare to admit that out loud. 

“What took you so long?” Levi questioned, scooting over slightly to give you more room with your dress. 

You smoothed out the black feathers, exhaling in an attempt to blow out all of your anxiousness. Then, of course, just as you feel your nerves settle, you remember the fact he’s practically betrayed you, going behind your back to get trained on his own! How can he act like everything is normal?

“Hange just had to go over a few things with me,” you simply say, to which Levi gives a small nod. You notice the way he leaned forward, elbows propped up on his knees, nervously fiddling with the ring on his middle finger.

Don’t. Don’t ask. You don’t care.

But he’s anxious. Though, so are you. So is everyone! It doesn’t matter. Don’t ask!

Don’t—

“Are you okay?” you blurt out, your mouth moving as if it had a mind of its own. 

Fuck. Someone needs to cut out your damn tongue.

“What?” Levi is snapped out of his trance entirely, his scowl deepening impossibly more as if you’ve said something absolutely vulgar.

“Nothing.” 

“Fine.”

“What?”

“Idiot, I said I’m fine. You can probably guess crowds aren’t my thing.” Levi admits, now leaning back in his chair in an attempt to get more comfortable, his arms strung over the top of the backrest. 

“Yeah,” you make a noise between a scoff and a laugh. “Not either of our strong suits.”

A jarring voice interrupts your conversation from the television hung on the wall. Darius Flickerman, the man who has hosted the interview for the games for over twenty years, bounces onto the stage with his bright purple wig, styled with a matching purple suit. Really, what is with the Capitol and the ridiculous style?

The massive crowd erupts into cheers, a dizzying blend of colors screaming together. The introduction music blares, and Darius quiets down the noise. “Welcome, welcome, welcome, to the 98th annual Hunger Games!”

As the interviewer addresses the crowd, you watch as the District 1 tributes stand and make their way to the entrance to the stage, the black-haired girl who mocked you in the training center being first to go. 

While the interviews go on, you’re sitting in quiet concentration. This is your chance to get to know the people you’re up against. You finally learned District 1’s names, Pieck and Porco, and from what you observed, the two of them are pretty cocky. Though, what can you expect from careers? 

Next is District 2. Those two aren’t nearly as cocky, although they are clearly strong. The blonde girl, Annie, didn’t talk much in her interview, but the male tribute who you swear is built like an ox, Reiner, presents himself well. District 3’s girl was younger, probably about thirteen. The male tribute for 3 was Armin, and he was great at winning over the crowd.

Following District 3 was the black-haired girl who could rip you to shreds with just her glare, Mikasa. She doesn’t talk much, giving short and simple answers for Darius. He tries to challenge her and make her spill a bit more, but she doesn’t falter. Jesus, it would be one thing if she was eying you out of cockiness, but no, based on the fact she didn’t even try to win over the crowd, she’s even more frightening. 

The District 4 boy, Eren, had a bit more of a personality to present. He seemed cocky, but not as the District 1 tributes were. More confident, you’d say. Darius even brought up their team, complimenting their stylists for the designs this year, as well as pointing out their mentor, who's name you learn is Erwin Smith.

The next few tributes that stood out to you are a boy named Jean from District 7 who was quite the charmer, the tributes from District 8, Gabi and Falco, who are the youngest in the entire pool of tributes, and the pair from District 10, Sasha and Connie, who are from the livestock district. 

Now, you’re face to face with the entrance that goes straight into the stage. The District 11 boy is just about to finish up, and you can’t help but feel absolutely terrified. You’re up next. 

The thought of being in front of hundreds of thousands of people that are betting on whether you live or die is sickening. You feel bile threatening to rise in your throat. You squeeze your hand into a fist, feeling your clammy palms. Your feet feel as if they could give out in your heels, as if you’d topple over yourself the moment you start walking. 

The sound of your name pulls you out of it, and you look to see Levi gesturing toward the entrance to the stage. “What?”

“You’re up,” is all he says, and you swear you could feel your stomach plummet to the ground. 

With a shaky inhale, you try to ground yourself. All you have to do is answer the questions honestly, and if even Valerie said you’re likeable, you might say something that will win over the crowd. All that matters is getting through it. What’s the worst that could happen?

You feel yourself walking forward, as if you were in some kind of dream. You make your way toward the center of the stage, finding your seat beside Darius. You can’t tell if you’ll throw up, pass out, or blank everything out, or all of the above. The spotlight on you is absolutely blinding, and the crowd blends together in a dizzying array of colors that makes you nauseous.

Darius begins speaking, and you try your best to focus on exactly what he’s saying. “Back at the City Circle, that was quite an entrance you made,” he begins, tilting his head in admiration. “I think all of our hearts stopped, I know mine did.”

You force a small smile, gripping the armrests of your chair. You’re fine. Just answer honestly, as if you were talking to Petra. It’s okay. You’re okay.

“I was just hoping I wouldn’t get burnt to a crisp.”

Laughter ripples through the audience, Darius joining in with an easy chuckle. “Well, thank goodness you didn’t! You and your district partner certainly made an impression.” He leans in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Now, I think we are all dying to know. You had the highest score among all the tributes. Can I ask how you managed an eleven?”

“Well, I—” you started, but stopped yourself before you needed to cut your tongue out yourself for speaking without thinking. You glance at Darius before shaking your head with an almost apologetic smile. “I don’t think I’m allowed to say, am I?”

Through the crowd from one of the balconies, you see the same bald gamemaker that fell into the punch bowl shout out, “no!”

Darius gasps dramatically, clutching at his chest. “Alright then, folks, I guess we’ll never know!” he jokes, earning another wave of laughter from the audience.

Your shoulders relax slightly, but the reprieve is short lived. His next words send a chill through your spine. “On a more serious note, back at the reaping…”

Your heart drops. No.

Darius reaches out, gently taking your hand in his, his expression softening. “You are the first volunteer in District 12’s history. What made you step forward for that girl?”

A pit forms in your stomach. You should’ve known they were going to bring Petra up. Your breath catches as your mind races, scanning the sea of faces for something, someone, to ground you. You manage to spot them in the crowd—Hange, then Hannes, Valerie beside them, all watching intently. Your eyes lock with Hange’s and she gives you a slight nod, encouraging you. 

Be honest. Don’t say too much. You have to keep Petra safe.

You steel yourself, your fingers curling slightly in your lap. “Well,” you begin carefully, “I don’t have much to lose.”

The audience murmurs, their intrigue only deepening. That surely was not the answer they expected nor wanted from you. But you don’t owe them anything.

Darius tilts his head, his brows furrowing before he pushes you more. “Really? I’ve heard you’ve got a sister. Some people say you volunteered because that girl reminded you of her. Is that true?”

Your blood runs cold. What the fuck?

In the midst of your panic, your fingers twitch as you instinctively pull your hand from the man’s grasp before you could compose yourself. Great, now that wasn’t very likeable of you! Though, how could you be likeable when they just asked you about your passed sister? Damn them! Damn Darius and everyone in the Capitol! 

You glance at your team in the crowd, and there’s a split second of hesitation, just enough for you to see them stiffen, their smiles faltering, uncertain of how to guide you through this. You notice Hannes gulp down a huge swig of his alcohol, shrugging as Hange whispers something in his ear.

How could they know about your sister? Let alone, why would they bring her up here of all places? Did they seriously dig that far back into your past? How much do they know? No, calm down! They’re just trying to get a reaction out of you.

Your lips part, but the words don’t come at first. Then, without thinking, they tumble out, sharper than intended. “Had.”

The weight of that single word lingers in the air. The audience is mostly silent, with a few “awes” echoing through the stadium. Fuck them.

“And that’s not true,” you add quickly, forcing steel into your tone. “I hardly knew that girl.”

It’s a lie. A blatant, ugly lie. And you hate yourself for saying it, you know Petra is watching this back home. You can only hope she understands why you had to say it, why you have to protect her, no matter the cost. You know her, and you know she’s kind and selfless. But they don’t need to know that.

Darius blinks, clearly taken aback, but he recovers quickly, pasting on a charming smile. “Well then,” he muses, “I think that was very brave of you.”

The crowd hums in agreement, though the tension still lingers in the air. You force yourself to breathe. You’re okay. 

Darius brightens again, shifting gears. “Your stylist truly outdid themselves this year. Can you tell me more about this dress you’re wearing?”

You seize the change in subject, pushing down the unease still crawling up your spine. “Yes, actually,” you say, straightening your shoulders. “My stylist said she has a surprise in store for us. Would you like to see?”

The audience erupts into cheers before Darius can even answer. He laughs, eyes twinkling with excitement. “Wait, is it safe?” he teases, throwing his hands up playfully. “Well, what do you think, folks?”

The cheers grow even louder, an eager chant building in the stands. You push yourself up from your seat, walking to the center of the stage. The lights shift slightly, dimming just enough to focus on you. You take a deep breath, then turn. Once, then twice, and around you go. The moment you move, the dress ignites.

Gasps echo through the crowd, followed by thunderous applause. The fire spreads along the black feathers, illuminating the intricate details of the design. You knew it, more flames. Hange, you damned genius. Then, the flames flicker and morph. The fire transforms into wings, feathers curling up your arms, shimmering like embers.

You spread your arms straight out, and almost gasp yourself. It’s just like a Mockingjay.

Darius reaches out instinctively, steadying you by the elbow as you regain your balance, fighting the spinning world in your vision. “Woah! Steady, steady!” he laughs, though his awe is evident. You regain your balance, holding his gaze.

“That,” he announces, turning to the crowd, “was extraordinary.” He extends his hand, gesturing toward you with a grand flourish. “Let’s give it up for her, folks! The girl on fire!”

The stadium shakes with applause, the roar of the Capitol deafening. As you retreat toward the backstage, you catch Hange’s eyes on you, giving you an enthusiastic thumbs up. By the time you make it backstage, you watch as Levi brushes past you toward the center of the stage for his interview. You can only imagine how much that boy hates crowds. 

You’re still in a daze for the first part of his interview, catching your breath in your seat. From what you hear, the interview goes as you expected. Levi gives short and blunt yes or no answers, though surprisingly he didn’t ignore any. Probably best not to, anyways. Then, just as you think they’re almost done, the sound of your name catches your attention.

"Your district partner has certainly caught the Capitol’s attention. Brave enough to volunteer along with that outstanding training score. Tell us, what’s it like working alongside someone like her? Is she an asset or a challenge?" Darius asks, eager to know more.

Levi slightly leans back in his seat, his expression unreadable. “She’s not weak, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh, not weak at all according to her training score,” Darius agrees, eyes gleaming with interest before prodding some more. “But beyond that, does she stand out to you in any particular way?”

Levi tilts his head slightly, as if considering. How do you even answer that question? The pause stretches just a little too long, enough for the audience to lean in.

“She’s… different,” he starts. “Most people either break or bend when they’re afraid. She doesn’t do either.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“Interesting,” Darius muses, eyes gleaming with anticipation. “So, would you say she’s someone you’d trust in the arena?”

“I don’t trust anyone. But if I had to?” he says, then pauses. The stadium is so quiet with anticipation you could hear a pin drop. “It’d be her.”

A ripple spreads through the crowd, soft gasps, whispers exchanged like currency. The Capitol adores moments like these. It’s exactly what they want, tension wrapped into something they can shape and manipulate. You can see right through it. They’re going to manipulate you two into something you’re not, and it’s going to make you look weak!

“Well, well,” he chuckles, turning toward the audience with a flourish. “Unfortunately, we have run out of time. It seems District 12 has given us quite the pair to watch, wouldn’t you say? Let’s give it up for the male tribute, Levi Ackerman!”

You watch as Levi casually waves into the crowd, exchanging a quick handshake with Darius Flickerman before retreating towards backstage. What the fuck was that?

By the time Levi makes it backstage, the other tributes have departed to their apartments. When the black-haired boy is just about to pass you, you grab him by the collar of his suit, shoving him into the back of a wall. He barely resists, letting you pin him down. The muffled roar of the audience still rings in your ears, but it’s nothing compared to the irritation burning in your chest.

You release his collar with a shove, your glare practically burning holes in his eyes. “What the hell was that?”

Levi doesn’t immediately answer. Instead, he adjusts the stiff collar of his suit like this conversation is nothing more than an inconvenience. “What are you talking about?”

You scoff. “Oh, I don’t know. First, you go behind my back to get trained separately, and then act like everything’s normal. Now, the interview? Didn’t you want to keep your distance? Because it sure didn’t seem like that back there.”

Levi exhales through his nose, clearly unimpressed by your outburst. “It worked, didn’t it?”

You blink, thrown off. “Worked?”

Before he can answer, Hannes strides up behind you, rubbing his temple like he’s been dealing with a headache all night. “You two done having a lovers’ quarrel?” he mutters, shaking his head. “Because I’d love to go to bed without needing to drink an entire bottle of whiskey first.”

You whirl on him. “Hannes, what was fuck that?” you demand, motioning toward Levi. “Why did he—”

Hannes groans dramatically, cutting you off. “Because it made you look desirable! The audience eats that shit up. Tension, a little unresolved something, they love it.” He waves a hand vaguely. “You were already intriguing enough with your training score and that whole volunteering stunt, as well as your dress, but Levi’s little interview sealed the deal. They’ll remember you now.”

You blink, the weight of it settling over you. You knew they wanted you to be likable. You knew the approval of the Capitol, the gamemakers, and the sponsors were everything. But hearing it like this, like a game being played right in front of you, makes your stomach turn.

“It’s strategy,” Levi says simply.

And damn it, he’s right. You hate that he’s right. This stunt, though maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal, had to be what he and Hannes had agreed on during prep yesterday. 

You sigh, rubbing your face. “Fine, whatever. But next time, I’d appreciate a warning.”

Levi shrugs, his gaze flicking past you. “Next time? Let’s survive this first.”

You felt your chest tighten at that. Let’s? Only one of you is making it out of this. And now, for the first time, you truly wish you could do something about it.

Hannes claps his hands together. “Great, now that that’s settled, let’s wrap this up. Eat some dinner, say your goodbyes, get some rest. Big day tomorrow.”

Everyone lingers. Valerie offers a surprisingly sincere well-wish, Hannes pats you on the back before heading for a drink, and Moblit nods politely before following Hange off to deal with last minute preparations.

But Hange, she lingers behind.

She doesn’t leave like the others. Instead, she rests a hand on your shoulder, her usual manic energy dimmed just a little. “I’ll see you at dinner,” she says, voice soft. “In the morning, I’ll be the one sending you off.”

You nod, swallowing thickly. Somehow, that makes it all feel more real. The Games are tomorrow. You’re running out of time. Then, you remember your interview, the way they practically used everything they could learn about you against you.

“Hange,” you call out. She stops in her tracks, turning back to face you. “Why did they bring her up?”

Hange must’ve understood who you meant by ‘her’ judging by the way her eyes softened. “My dear, the Capitol will do anything to break you. You just have to stand strong enough to not let yourself be another piece in their games.”

You don’t know what to say. Levi lingers too, standing just a few steps away. For a moment, you wonder if he’s waiting for you to say something. But you don’t. Instead, you just turn and walk away.

Damn the Capitol and anyone that has anything to do with the Games.

-

You were quick to make it back to the top floor of your apartment. You couldn’t help but feel sentimental, knowing this was the last night you’ll truly be safe. Surprisingly, you think you’ll miss hearing the banter between Hannes and Valerie. Tomorrow, you’ll be fighting for your life in an arena in which you don’t know you’ll make it out of. 

You know your team won’t be going with you. Hannes and Valerie will be at the Games Headquarters, hopefully madly signing up your sponsors. Hange will be travelling with you from the very spot you will be launched up into the arena.

You scarfed down as much food as your stomach could possibly handle, even bringing some extra desserts and drinks to snack on before bed. Before you could make a break to your room, your team insisted on saying their goodbyes, even though they might still see you early in the morning before your departure. 

Valerie takes you and Levi by the hand, and with actual tears in her eyes, wishes you two well. She thanks you for being the best tributes to ever have the privilege to sponsor. And then, because apparently Valerie is required by law to say something awful, she adds in, “I wouldn’t be surprised if I finally get promoted to a decent district next year!”

She hurries out of the dining room, and you’re left with Hannes. He crosses his arms and looks you and Levi over.

“Any last advice?” you ask.

“The moment the Games start, make a run for it. Screw everything inside of the Cornucopia, it’ll be a bloodbath. Put as much distance as you can between yourself and the other tributes, and find a source of water. I’ll try to cover your backs with the sponsors.” he says. “Got it?”

“And after that?” Levi questions.

“Stay alive,” is all he says. It’s the same advice he gave you two on the train, but he’s not drunk and mocking this time. And you only nod. What else is there to say?

When you finally depart to your room with hands full of food, Levi stays behind to talk to Hannes. You’re glad. You two can exchange whatever words of parting you might have tomorrow. 

You shower after snacking, having hung up your dress neatly in your closet, scrubbing off all the makeup and fragrances that were meticulously placed onto you today. The warm water feels nice, and you wish you could stay here forever. Away from everything and everyone. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Unfortunately, since those kinds of luxuries do not exist in the world you live in, you finally step out of the shower. You dried yourself off with a fluffy towel, then retreated to your closet to find a robe. You spot your dress, now transformed into something that reminds you so much of a Mockingjay. How can Hange even come up with these design ideas? Like you’ve said—genius. 

You finally roll into bed, and after just about five seconds, you realize you will not be getting a wink of sleep tonight. You know you desperately need it, whatever ounce of energy you can preserve in the arena can make a difference of life or death. The arena. What kind of lands will you be in? Desert? Swamp? Ruins? 

Maybe, God be willing, you will end up in a forest. You know how to hunt and navigate, so you presume that could work. But there are also your fellow tributes, you won’t be alone, you could be stalked like prey with every step you take. 

Now, your heart is racing and you can’t seem to calm it down. You stand up from your bed, smoothing a hand over your face as you exhale and pace the room. Jesus, just rest, won’t you? 

But you know you can’t. You won’t. Your feet practically move on their own, grabbing a plate of leftover dessert and heading straight for none other than the rooftop. Seeing the stars underneath the moon one last night before you’re hunted like an animal would be nice, so you don’t stop yourself. 

The moment you burst through the door to the rooftop, you finally seem to catch your breath, feeling your heart slow as you take in the fresh cool air. Your bare feet track toward the railing, resting your elbows on top as you take in the city lights, taking a chocolate covered strawberry from your dessert plate and popping it in your mouth. There are exhilarating colors, echoes of cheers and laughter from below as the party goers celebrate. 

“You should be getting some sleep,” a voice calls out from behind, though you don’t have to look to know who it is. 

“Shouldn’t you be as well?” you quip back.

A pair of hands grip the ledge beside you. From the corner of your eye, you see Levi lean forward, dark hair falling slightly over his face. For a moment, you consider leaving. Going back to your room, forcing yourself into whatever restless sleep might find you before morning.

But the thought of being alone, of staring at the ceiling with nothing but the weight of tomorrow sitting on your chest, makes your stomach twist. The crisp night air wins, even if you have company.

"I don’t sleep," Levi finally mutters.

You scoff. "Ha, funny."

He pushes off the railing. "Fine then, I’m going back to my room."

"Wait," you say instinctively, your free hand catching his wrist before he can leave. "Don’t go."

Levi closes his eyes, considering for just a moment before sighing, pulling his hand from your grasp. But instead of leaving, he places his hands back onto the railing.

"Alright."

You glance down at the city below, your fingers tracing the patterns of your dessert plate. "I’m sorry I went after you earlier," you say.

“I get it. I might’ve done the same,” Levi says, his gaze not meeting yours as he watches the city, too. Another roar of cheers echo from the streets below, loud enough to hear it clearly from the top floor of the Tribute Center. “Jesus, listen to them.”

"I know." You shake your head, the absurdity of it all settling into something disturbingly familiar. “I just don’t want them to change me.”

Levi’s gaze finally settles on you, his brows furrowed together, laced with confusion. “How could they change you?”

You exhale, glancing away. “I don’t know,” you admit, shrugging. The thought has been gnawing at you for days, but putting it into words makes it feel heavier. “I just don’t want to become something I’m not.”

It reminds you too much of what Hange said earlier, the way she warned you about the Capitol breaking people down, twisting them into pieces that fit their narrative. The idea makes your stomach churn.

“I don’t want to be another pawn in their game.”

Levi hums quietly. A small acknowledgment, not quite agreement, not quite dismissal. You wonder if he understands.

“If I die in there,” you continue, voice quieter now, “I want to die as myself. Does that make sense?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he watches you, really watches you, like he’s trying to figure out the weight of your words. Finally, he nods. “Yeah.”

You hesitate before speaking again, letting the words form before you let them out. “I keep wishing I could find a way to show them, to show the Capitol that they don’t own me. That I’m more than just a piece in their game.”

Levi exhales sharply, barely a laugh, barely a sigh. “Aren’t we all?”

You blink, considering that. Maybe he’s right. Maybe every person in Panem, at least in the districts, feels the same way, buried under the weight of a system designed to destroy them.

“Maybe,” you murmur. “I don’t know. All I know is that I’m tired of living like this.”

Levi doesn’t say anything else. The two of you watch the night life, cars bustling through the city and parties ongoing at every block. In the morning, just around ten, you will be in the arena with every citizen of Panem watching you and the rest of the tributes on live television, rooting on who they believe should win. 

You’re terrified. Hundreds and thousands of eyes will be on you, watching your every move, either mocking you or cheering for you. It’s hard to believe that in just a few hours you’ll be shipped off to that damned arena. 

Though, for now, you’re okay. Now, you are safe on the rooftop, watching the Capitol. For now, you can breathe. You might as well take in the peaceful moments before they’re stripped away from you. You look at Levi. Maybe talking to him will keep you from getting lost in your own head.

"Why did you do it?"

Levi turns slightly, brow raised. "What do you mean?"

"Why did you decide to train separately?"

His fingers tighten against the railing, and for a moment, you think he won’t answer. Then, after what feels like forever, he exhales sharply. “Because it was the best move,” he says simply. “You needed the sponsors more than I did.”

You blink, thrown off. “What?”

Levi finally turns to face you fully. “They already expect me to be strong. You? You’re different. The Capitol loves a story, and that’s what I gave them. Hannes and I agreed on it.” 

He pauses, his gaze flickering over you like he’s trying to gauge your reaction. “As for the training… it was better to know where we stand before we get thrown into that arena.”

You scoff, shaking your head. Maybe he has betrayed you, after all. “And where do we stand?”

Another pause. The night air feels colder now.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “But I do know I don’t want to stab you in the back.”

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “That makes one of us.”

Levi’s gaze sharpens slightly, but he doesn’t argue. He just watches you, as if waiting for you to make the next move. And maybe it’s the exhaustion, or maybe it’s the fact that you want to believe him. You want to believe that not everyone in the Games is out to kill you. Maybe, he doesn’t want you dead, either. 

Absentmindedly, you take another chocolate covered strawberry from your plate and toss it over the edge. It meets the forcefield, flickering slightly before recoiling back, landing somewhere behind you.

"Why do you think they put a forcefield on the roof?" you ask.

Levi shrugs. "To make sure none of the tributes take it upon themselves to be eliminated before the Games."

“Geez,” you wince at the thought. You can’t really blame anyone for that, though. Might be an easier way to go, that or be mauled by someone in the arena. “And do you remember what that boy, Armin, was saying about the forcefield?” 

"Yeah. Why?"

"What do you think he meant by that?"

Levi sighs, rubbing his temple. "Good grief, is this another interview?"

"No!" you exclaim, waving your hands in defense. "I’m just curious."

Levi’s lips twitch slightly. "Who knows? That kid seems too smart for his own good."

"I guess so."

For the next hour or so, the two of you fall into a much more comfortable silence. You snack on the desserts you have left on your plate. You even came up with a game where you throw a strawberry at the forcefield, attempting to catch it when it bounces back. For a little while, it feels like things are normal. 

Though, you know that tomorrow, everything changes. For now, you let yourself pretend that the world isn’t about to fall apart.

Exhaustion finally begins to creep up on you, and you end up saying goodnight to Levi, retreating to your room in an attempt to get some shut eye. You spend the rest of the night in and out of sleep, thinking about all of the possibilities that might come in the arena. Despite your exhaustion, you don’t rest much. 

-

You don’t see Levi in the morning. Hange comes to you before dawn, gives you a simple dress to wear, and guides you to the loading area. Your final dressing and preparations will be done in the catacombs under the arena itself. A hovercraft appears out of thin air and the aircraft opens up, leading to a few seats. Before you get the chance to sit, a woman in a white coat approaches you carrying a syringe.

“This is just your tracker,” she says. You reluctantly hold your arm out, feeling the sharp stab of pain as the needle inserts the metal tracking device deep under the skin on the inside of your forearm. You assume that it’s for the gamemakers to keep track of you in the arena. 

The ride to the arena is quiet. Hange respects your space, and the only thing to distract you was your breakfast, and the barren windows in the hovercraft. When you glance outside, you’re so high up that the trees are just a cluster of specks. This is what the birds must see. Though, the only difference between you being that one is free.

When you arrive, you and Hange are escorted to the catacombs that lie beneath the arena. You’re led into a chamber for your preparation. In the Capitol, they like to call it the launch room, but in the districts, it is referred to as the stockyard. A place where animals go before they’re slaughtered. 

You are instructed to shower by Hange, and when you do, you fight back the urge to throw up the contents of your breakfast. Once you get out, you clean your teeth and change into the outfits all twenty-four tributes will be wearing in the arena. Hange, unfortunately, did not get a say in the design. 

The clothing is nice, though. The jacket’s material is clearly made for cold weather, so you can expect some cold nights. The quality of the boots are better than anything you could get at home with a great fit, good for running. 

You think you’re finished getting dressed when Hange pulls out a familiar pin from her pocket. It’s the gold Mockingjay pin Petra had gifted you. You had almost completely forgotten about it between the chaos of the days. 

“Where did you get that?” you ask.

“Off the blouse you wore on the train,” she says. “I figured you should have it. Though, it barely passed through the review board. Some thought the pin could be used as a weapon, giving you an advantage, which is ridiculous! What could you do with such a small needle?”

You can’t find the right words through your nerves, so all you do is offer her a faint smile while she fastens the pin on the side of your jacket. “Anyways, they eventually let it through. They eliminated a ring from the District 2 girl, though. If you twisted the ring, a sharp metal piece came out, sharp enough to cut through flesh.”

“Why would she even try to bring something like that through?” you question.

“Who knows, darling. Here, walk around for me. Make sure everything fits right.” Hange gives a small shrug, sending you off to walk around. 

You shuffle around, rolling your shoulders back to make sure the jacket wasn’t too confining. “It all fits well.”

“Good then. All we can do now is wait for the call.” Hange says, offering a smile, though you can see the sadness behind it. “Do you think you can eat anymore?”

You decline, but chug down a massive glass of water. You find a seat on the couch, nervously messing with the hem of your jacket. Your palms are growing sweaty, and you can practically feel your heartbeat through your ears. 

No. You’re okay. It’s okay.

Nonetheless, nervousness seeps into terror as you imagine what is to come. You could be dead within the hour, or even before then. On top of that, you are going to watch people die. The same group of people you’ve spent training and prepping with for the past week are all going to die, aside from one lucky victor.

It’s okay. You’re okay.

Suddenly, you feel a hand on top of yours, resting on your knee. You see Hange offer a comforting nod, and you smile. You sit like this until a female voice announces to prepare for launch.

Sixty seconds.

Still clenching onto Hange’s hand, the two of you walk over to the tube that will take you into the arena. “Remember what Hannes said, run and find water. The rest will follow,” she says. You nod, feeling your fingers tremble as you clutch her hand like it was your lifeline. “And remember this. If I could bet on anyone, I would place everything I have on you, girl on fire.”

You feel your lips tremble. “Really?”

Thirty seconds.

“Really,” Hange nods. She squeezes your hand before pulling you into a tight embrace. You can feel your body tremor underneath her hold, though neither of you say anything about it. She only lets go once you hear the glass cylinder to the tube slide open and the female voice counting down the seconds before launch.

Carefully, you step onto the platform, your gaze locked onto Hange’s. “Good luck. Remember, I’m betting on you.”

Ten seconds.

You can only watch as the glass cylinder closes around you, fully encasing you inside of the tube. It begins to lift, and Hange gives you a reassuring nod. Right, get yourself together. Hange disappears from your sight as the platform rises. You’re in darkness for a few seconds, feeling the platform pushing you up into the open air, straight into the arena.

For a moment, your eyes are completely blinded by the bright sunlight, unable to take in your surroundings. As your senses adjust, you’re conscious only of a strong breeze with the hopeful smell of fresh pine trees, accompanied by the sound of rushing water.

A forest.

Then, you hear the legendary announcer, Paladin Templesmith, as his voice echoes all around you. “Ladies and gentlemen, let the 98th Hunger Games begin!” 

───────────────────────────────────────────

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a/n: yippe! interviews are done and we are heading straight into the games! in my outline, we've finished the first out of three "acts" ! i presume there will be about twenty chapters to this fic in total. next up obviously will be the games, and i am so excited to dive into reader and levi's dynamic, as well as start introducing the other characters on a more personal level. i can't wait for you to read it all! thanks for tagging along! <3

taglist: @fleshandbonez @reivelmin @estella-novella @zoozvie @snoopyluver20 @honeybunbunn @jjune-07 @lovetwiyor @levisbrat25 comment and ask to be added!

likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated! thank you for reading <3

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 35 - Skin

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 8.5k words.

CW: a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes (scuffing, heats), torture, mutilation, graphic description of tourture, SA (not rape), non-con drugging, restraints, abuse, phycological abuse, physical abuse, smoking, alcohol, blood, description of wounds, mentions of birth control, suicidal thoughts, angst, all hurt no comfort, medical inaccuracies, stockholm syndrome, mentions of pregnacy.

AN: Heed the warnings and remember this fic does have a happy ending... kinda..

Previous - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

Piper can smell the anger the moment the car pulls up to the house. It makes the hair stand up on the back of her neck, alpha anger is a scary thing. She swallows the lump in her throat as she picks up the bandage for Johnny’s head. 

A second later the front door opens and Johnny gets to his feet. She grabs his arm. “You need to sit down.” He pulls out of her grip heading over to meet them, she sighs following him. 

“What the hell happened!?” John shouts, he strides across the room in a few steps stopping in front of Johnny.

“They caught me off guard.” Johnny says, she watches his body tense, his hands ball into fists. 

“All you had to do was watch her. Protect her it’s not a hard fucking job, Soap!” John snaps. Piper needs to do something or they’re going to be at each other's throats. John’s alpha is keeping her locked in place, he’s furious, worried. He just lost his omega, they all did. 

“I was outnumbered, by the time I even had a chance to reach for a weapon it was already too late!” Johnny says back. John looks over at Kate, Simon’s hand lands on John’s shoulder, he shrugs it off. 

“How many?” John asks, turning away and looking around the room. Kyle looks the most worried, Piper can’t tell what Simon’s thinking under the mask, she can’t smell him but his eyes are hard, dark and focused. 

“Nine, they took out Kate first then went for the omega.” Johnny says, John turns back to look at Kate again. Piper watches them nod at each other. She’s fine, took a hit to the head but she’s okay, Johnny got the worst of it.

“Did they hurt her?” John asks. 

“I-I don’t know.” Johnny says. Anger fills the room again and John strides up to Johnny. 

“What the bloody hell do you mean ‘you don’t know?’” John spits getting back up in Johnny's face. Johnny sways, Piper presses herself up against him catching him and wrapping his arm over her shoulders. Simon steps up to help her. 

“You need to sit down Johnny, you’ve got a concussion.” Piper says, she can’t help shooting an angry glance at John. This is not Johnny’s fault, there was nothing he could have done, surely John knows that. Simon helps her guide him to a chair. 

“Last I saw she was fine, covered in blood but fine.” Johnny says. 

“The blood wasn’t hers, at least that's what we think.” Piper tries to reassure them. “She managed to kill one of them and injure another.” 

“She scuffed me.” Johnny says. Piper's eyes snap back to him in shock. 

“She what?” Piper asks amid a barrage of other questions. 

“ She scuffed me. Not Graves or any of his other shadows.” Johnny sighs rubbing the back of his neck. “Graves said he’d kill me if I tried anything. I fought, I didn’t stop the whole time. I would have died for her. She knew that.” 

Piper can hear the sadness in his voice, she can smell his guilt in the air, it’s thick and strong.

“I tried.” The words come out as a sob, he hangs his head still rubbing the back of his neck. John walks over sighing and resting his hand on Johnny’s shoulder. Piper moves out the way. There’s a change in the energy of the room. 

“You said there was one injured?” Simon asks. 

“We tied him to a bed upstairs. I can show you.” Piper offers moving towards the stairs but John stands up straight leaving Johnny’s side. 

“Wait.” He calls looking over at Kate. 

“Do we know anything new?” He asks, she shakes her head. 

“Okay.” He steps around the room thinking. He stops at some smears of blood on the floor.

“Kate call Alex, see if he’s still free. Then get in touch with Alejando and Rudy, see if they can help and how many Los Vaqueros they can spare.” 

“Price, are you sure you don’t want to wait until we know where she is?” Simon asks, stepping back up to John.

“It could take us months.” Kate says. 

“It’s not.” John says not taking his eyes off Simon. “Because as soon as we’ve called the cavalry you’re going to make that shadow talk.” 

“And if he doesn’t?” Piper asks, John scoffs and turns walking over to Kate, everyone watches him, he seems so sure, Piper almost can’t believe the little smile she sees creep up on his face. She turns back to Simon and sees Kyle step up behind him resting his hand on Simon's shoulder. 

“He’ll talk.” Kyle says

You wake in pain, a stabbing sensation in the back of your neck, that's the first thing you feel. 

Your head throbs, your arm too. Your whole body feels weak, you don’t know how long you’ve been out, you’re almost too scared to open your eyes. You try to move but you can’t, it makes you panic. Your arms are tied down, you open your eyes to look around and your heart sinks. 

You recognise this room, it all comes back to you in an instant and before you can stop yourself a sob leaves your throat. You feel tears welling up in your eyes, you can’t wipe them away, your wrists are tied to the bed. 

You’re in the medical room, the one you’ve recovered in, time and time again in the bunker. Only the bunker is gone, this has to be somewhere else. It has to be. There’s the smell though, the smell of damp earth that never seemed to go away, there’s a chill in the air and the familiar sound of banging pipes behind the walls. 

It can’t be the bunker because the bunker is gone . 

You pull on the ties around your wrist, they’re soft but attached straight to the bed. You blink a few times letting the tears run down your face and try your best to clear your vision. You want to be able to see the next person who walks into the room. 

You look over at your shoulder, there’s a bandage on the top of your arm, you flex your arm and it throbs. Your birth control, it’s been taken out. You feel sick, you sob laying back in bed. There’s not much you can do. You feel useless. 

You were useless, all that training they gave you and you forgot it all. You knew it was over when you saw Johnny, saw him bloody and fighting with Graves. You couldn’t let him get hurt, he would have died to save you. You would have never been able to live with yourself. 

Your heart rate picks up as you hear footsteps coming to the door. You’re holding your breath, whoever it is waits for a second before opening the door. You pull your legs up close to your body and pull on the restaurants. 

It’s not the professor though, it’s someone new. A woman, a beta, you flare your nostrils breathing her in. 

She’s nervous as she walks up over to the bed. She has short brown hair, it cuts off just under her chin, she looks about the same age as Piper. She has a white lab coat on and a folder in her hands. She smiles at you as she puts the folder on a table at the end of the bed. 

You pull your legs even closer to you as she walks around to stand beside you, she rests her hands on the bed guard. 

“Hello.” She starts smiling, you can see the nerves on her now. The professor will be watching, he’ll want to make sure she does a good job- whatever that is. “My name is Dr. Sloan, but you can call me Mandy.” She pauses like she’s waiting for a reaction, you don’t say anything just blink more tears away. 

“I know things must be confusing right now but you’re safe here.” She says. It’s a lie, you’ll never be safe with the professor. Maybe she doesn’t know what he’s like, he will have filled her head with everything amazing about the formula. 

She reaches out to touch your hand. You try to pull it away but you can’t 

“It’s okay.” She smiles. You don’t have much choice, you relent letting her pick up your hand. 

“How do you feel?” She asks, you ignore the question completely, she’s holding your hand, squeezing it like she’s trying to be reassuring. You don’t want her to hold your hand, you don’t want her to give you reassuring squeezes. 

“Your old doctor was Piper Montgomary. I read her work, she was very brilliant.” She says as she starts to unbuckle the clips on the wrist restraints. 

“Is.” You correct her, it's barely audible. Your throat is dry and raw. She doesn’t say anything but her smile gets bigger as she undoes the final clip and your hand is free. She must trust that you’re not going to bolt, not that you would stand much of a chance anyway. 

“You were out for a while, a few hours. I’m going to give you something to help you relax.” She says as she turns around to open a drawer. You take the opportunity to fiddle with the buckles on the other wrist restraint. Your hands are shaking so much though, it’s almost like you’ve suddenly forgotten how to unclip a simple buckle. 

Her hand lands on your shoulder and she pulls you back. You snap back to look at her with an injection in her hand. 

“I don’t want anything.” You say as you try to squish yourself to the other side of the bed. She drops her smile and relaxes her face, you can smell her calming scent, you hold your breath, you don’t want to smell her, you don’t want her trying to calm you down.

“It’s just to help you relax. We wouldn’t want you distressing.” She says. You swallow the lump in your throat, why haven’t you distressed yet? Maybe you should, at least then you won’t remember anything. You don’t have much of a choice, you bring your free hand up to wipe your eyes. 

Maybe the familiarity of the place is stopping you, the fact that this is the place you grew up even if it is shoved in the deep recesses of your brain, this place is safe- at least technically, the only danger is the professor and what he’s capable of.

Your hand instinctively goes up to the back of your neck, you gasp when you realise they’ve cut your hair. You reach up to pull on it trying to bring it around to your vision, it’s short, stopping just under your chin. 

“I’m sorry about your hair. It was Professor Hales' recommendation. He thought it would be easier for you.” She explains. You have no idea what that means, it just makes you feel sad. “Sharp scratch.” She plunges the needle into your thigh. You feel sick, you feel stupid, you should have fought harder. You just hope Graves didn’t hurt Johnny. Thinking about them makes a pit form in your stomach and you choke down a sob. 

You’re not going to let them see you upset, you’re not going to let them break you. There’s a knock at the door, you can smell it now, alpha. It’s the professor, your head swims. Mandy goes over to answer the door and steps to the side so the professor can walk in. 

He doesn’t look mad, or upset, his face is relaxed, you can already smell the cigar smoke on him as he walks over to the bed. You hold back the tears biting the inside of your cheek to stop them from spilling out. He stops in the same spot Mandy was in a few seconds ago. 

He picks up your free hand, you don’t try and fight it there's no point, his scent of alpha is overwhelming, it’s nothing like John or Simon. It’s harsh, tainted with alcohol and blood, he always had a lingering scent of death. He brings the back of your hand up to his mouth and kisses it. He looks older than you remember, or maybe he’s just tired.  

“You’re home now, you’re safe.” He says. You bite down harder on the inside of your mouth.

This isn’t home, it will never be home. 

8 hours, it’s been 8 hours since you were taken. John is still looking out the window in the back garden. Less than 24 hours ago you were laughing and joking with Johnny and Kyle as they taught you to throw a decent punch.  

He knew raiding the base was a risk, he knew that. He should have left Ghost behind with Soap, he should have been here instead, sent Ghost out to lead instead. He should have been here. They didn’t even get anything useful from the raid, just a few dead shadows and confirmation that Hale and Graves are not in the state.

Now they’ve lost you and you could be anywhere. Hale could take you and run and they would never be able to find you again. It wouldn’t be hard for Graves to get Hale out of the country, they know he has properties in other places around the world, he could have ones they don’t know about. 

Laswell is doing a good job keeping an eye on everything, Graves was sloppy leaving a shadow behind. He must have been in a rush, he could have been getting on a plane, or a train. Even with the CIA and MI6 databases it’s hard to track someone who doesn’t exist. If he’s smart he’ll go to South America, or Russia, deep in the Siberian wilderness where it will take them years to find you. 

“Anything new with Makarov?” John asks without looking away from the window. 

“No, he’s still causing problems in Russia. Farah is keeping an eye on him for us.” Laswell says. John hums. 

“Think Hale’s working with Konni?” Johnny asks. 

“We have to explore every possibility. I’m sure Makarov wouldn’t turn down the formula in exchange for protection.” John says as a matter of fact. 

“Shadow Company wouldn’t work with Konni.” Laswell says. Fair.   

“He’s not going to leave the US.” John says, turning from the window and going over to the table. “As long as he has Shadow Company’s support and protection he’ll stay.” 

“It’ll take forever to find out where though.” Johnny says. 

“We don’t stop.” John says, they’re never going to stop. Not until they have you back in their arms, alive. 

“No ‘course not.” Johnny says with a sigh, John can smell his guilt fill the air again. 

“You should get some rest. We’re probably not going to find anything new for a while.” He says looking over at him. 

“I’m good.” Johnny says. John sighs. 

“You too Piper, you've been travelling all day.”

“I’m not tired-”

“Christ, am I speaking another language.” John snaps, squeezing his eyes closed and pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not a suggestion. You’re no use to anyone if you can’t think straight.” He hears chairs scraping but they don’t protest again. He goes over to sit in the chair Johnny left. 

“Going to send me to bed too?” Kate asks. John sighs and looks at the laptop to see what Johnny was working on. 

“I should never have left her alone.” John says. It’s the first time he’s said it out loud. He should have been here. Even when they get you back he will never forgive himself for letting this happen. For letting you get taken. 

“We’ll find her, John. Even if it does take months we’ll get her back. We’ve hunted and found harder people.” 

“She might not have months.” John says grimly. He doesn’t want to think about the fact Hale basically only wants you for children. In some fucked up way he hopes that Hale loves you enough to keep you alive. He hopes for once Piper is wrong and he really does love you, otherwise they could already be too late. 

There’s a knock at the front door, Piper stops typing on the laptop and looks over. John gets up and walks over with his hand resting on his pistol.

When he looks through the peephole he relaxes. Opening the door and stepping to the side to let Nikolai in. 

“Good to see you again, Captain. I wish it was a better situation.” Nikolai says. John nods leading him over to the dining room table where Kate, Piper and Johnny have spent the last few hours going through every piece of intel they have with a fine tooth comb. 

“I’ll catch you up.” John says. 

“Alex will be bringing the rest of the data I requested.” Kate says.

“Alejandro and Rodolfo and a handful of Los Vaqueros will be here tomorrow. Other than that it’s just us.” John says.

“It’s better than nothing.” Nikolai says. 

“Not enough to go against Shadow Company though.” John says, crossing his arms. 

“Where is she?” Nikolai asks, John and Kate go silent exchanging glances. 

“We don’t know.” John says.

“We’ve already ruled out previous places he lived. We assume he’s somewhere new. Within the US.” Kate clarifies. 

“Last moment we have on Shadow Company is Minneapolis. It’s hard to keep tack of them but we know they’re moving.” John explains. 

“Looking for a needle in a haystack.”  Nikolai says. 

“Could say that.” John sighs. “Did you manage to get your hands on a chopper?”

“Standing by for your orders, Captain.” Nikolai says with a smile patting John on the back.

“Then all we’re waiting on is Alex.” Kate says. “Right now he’s busy getting the files we need.”

“We have an injured Shadow, we’ve been trying to get him to talk.” John says. As if on cue a scream from the upstairs room fills the air. 

“You’ve been busy then.” Nikolai says. 

“When Al and Rudy get here tomorrow we’ve got some places for you to check out. As soon as we can narrow down where she’s not, we can focus on other areas.” John says. “Get some rest if you need to, it's going to be a long day.” 

“You too, Captain.” Nikolai says patting the top of his back before picking up his bag again and heads for the stairs. “Make sure he gets some rest Kate.” John raises an eyebrow at Kate. 

“Will do.” She replies, Nikolai chuckles as he walks up the stairs. 

You have no idea how long it’s been. Whatever drug Mandy gave you to help you relax makes your head swim and your body feel heavy. It’s getting harder to think, to remember things. You try to remember your pack, you try to remember your alphas John and Simon but it’s like the memories are just out of reach. 

You're eventually moved into another room, it's dark and uninviting, the only lights where surgical lights pointed at a black exam bed. Mandy helps you strip and step into a hospital gown, you don’t even bother feeling embarrassed about it, the professor has seen you naked many times. 

When you’re changed Mandy adjusts the exam table and pats it, you nod and hop up laying back. You’re basically in a sat up position. You should ask what's going to happen but you have a feeling you’re not going to like anything she says.

She moves the thin gown off your shoulders. She’s looking at your marks, it makes you feel sick, you want to touch them. She smiles at you like that's going to put you at ease, she turns away from you. You reach up and feel John’s mark on the back of your neck, you let your hand move down to Johnny’s and Kyles. 

You feel a lump rising in your throat, you’re not going to cry, you’re not going to let them see you cry. When she looks back you’re rubbing Simon’s mark. 

“Did it hurt? When they marked you?” She asks. You look down at the tray she’s holding in her hands. You can see surgical supplies, sterile supplies. You look back up at her, her face looks relaxed, she still has a small smile on her lips. Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think it’s going to be. 

You don’t reply to her question, instead you watch as she places everything down on a table wheeling it over. She’s methodical about it, placing things down and moving them until she’s happy. You see scalpels, tweezers, wipes and gauze. The more you watch her lay things out the more scared you feel. 

It’s taking all your energy to hide your scent. You’re not going to give them anything, you’re not going to let them break you down. When the door to the room opens you jump. It’s the professor, he looks different. When you saw him in the medical room he looked almost kind. 

Now his face is dark and hard. Just like you remember, the way you imagine him in your dreams. He walks over to the bed and stands beside you. You’re not tied down in here, you could run. What would that achieve though? There’s no way you’re getting out of here, it will only make things worse. 

Your head is swimming from whatever drug Mandy has been giving you, you wouldn’t even make it to the door of the room before they catch you and drag you back kicking and screaming. 

Maybe you should fight, for the sake of your pack. You don’t even know if they’re coming for you. You secretly hope they aren’t because then they could get hurt, then they could die. You would rather imagine them safe and happy. Living in the house in Scotland safe and away from the professor and Shadow Company. 

The professor's hand lands on your shoulder and you sit forward. “Four marks.” Hale says. His fingers brush over them. You can smell the alcohol on his breath. 

“Which ones belong to your alphas?” He asks. You won’t tell him, you won’t tell him anything. Of course he doesn’t like your silence, he rests a hand on your shoulder and you freeze up.

“Which ones belong to your alphas?” He asks again. You look as Mandy picks up an injection. Hale's hand comes up to stop her. 

“I assume the one on the back of your neck.” Hale says, his hand travels down your head to your neck. He moves over to Simon's mark. “What about this one?” You don’t say anything, you don’t even move. His fingers move over to Johnny’s. 

“This one’s deep. He must really like you.” Hale says as he presses his fingers over each deep indent. You shiver as his fingers move over to Kyle’s mark last.

“Four marks.” You can hear the spite in his voice, the anger, you can smell it in the air. Suddenly his hand comes to cup your jaw and pull your face to look at him. “Turned into a right little slut didn’t you? Letting people mark you up like you’re some kind of whore!” He throws your face to the side and you sob. You don’t mean to, it just comes out. Your neck is still sore from the scuffing. 

“Let's start with the one on the back of your neck.” Hale says. “Who claimed you first? Was it Captain Price? Or his bitch of a lieutenant? The one who hides his face like a scared little boy!” Mandy picks up the injection again. 

“No.” Hale stops her again. “I want her to feel it.”

“Professor.” She starts but instantly stops when he shoots her an angry glance. He bends down so his head is level with yours. 

“When she carves your packs marks out your skin I want you to feel every second.” His hand comes to brush a tear escaping down your cheek, his gaze softens. “I want you to feel each one leave your body forever. The only mark you will ever have after today is mine.” 

He moves over to a corner in the room, he's going to stay, watch as she takes their marks. You don't know what to say, or even do, you want to cry and scream but thats just what he wants. He will want to watch you suffer, suffer for him, maybe he'll expect you to break the bond, you won't though- you love them. You want to touch them one more time. Feel their marks one more time. Instead you’re frozen in place, the room suddenly feels colder, goosebumps rise on your skin. 

You should run, you should fight. Maybe if you kick up enough of a fuss then they’ll sedate you. You don’t have the energy to fight though, you’re too drugged up. Even the walk over to this room was just a blur of colours and bright lights. 

You feel something wet and cold on the back of your neck. Your hand instantly goes up to protect it. 

“It’s just antiseptic.” Mandy explains. 

“You don’t have to do this.” You say. You know it’s not true, you know she doesn't have a choice. You hear her sigh anyway, you smell her trying to calm you. It makes you feel sick. 

“If you fight-” She says quietly choking on the words. Her hand lands on your thigh and tears start to form in your eyes. “If you fight they’ll strap you down. Professor Hale was very adamant you were to be aware of what was going to happen. I’m sorry.” 

It’s a lie, she’s not sorry. If she was truly sorry she wouldn’t be doing this. You drop your hand from the back of your neck. She goes back to cleaning the back of your neck and clipping your hair up. 

You should fight at least for the sake of your pack. It’s their marks she’s about to carve out of your skin. They’re going to be disappointed, they’re going to be mad at you for not fighting. You should fight, you should. 

You hear Mandy putting gloves on, you don’t have long before she’ll start. Maybe if she cuts deep enough you’ll bleed out, then it will be over. 

“I’m going to start now.” She says. Useless, you’re useless. You deserve to feel the pain. You grip the bed and close your eyes as the hot sting of the blade digs into the back of your neck. 

…

Your body throbs. 

It’s nothing but hot fiery pain throbbing through your neck and shoulders. 

She carved the marks from the people you love out of your skin. 

It doesn’t feel real, you can’t believe you’re back here. You’re back in the bunker. The sound of the metal scalpel dropping in a bowl makes you jump. 

“I’m finished.” Mandy says, you can hear the edge of something in her voice. You tried so hard not to scream, not to give the professor what he wanted, but you couldn’t help it. You think you passed out once or twice too, coming too when Mandy was digging another chunk of flesh out your neck, or your shoulder. At one point the professor left, maybe he couldn't stand it anymore, you don't think thats why. 

You didn’t even try and fight, you just let it happen. Your pack would be so disappointed in you, you deserve to feel the pain. 

Blood is running down your body, you can feel it with each throb. The wounds will already be healing. You look up at Mandy with tears in your eyes. She looks sad, you can smell her too, nothing like Piper. Piper may have been the professor's helper once but she would never do this. Mandy goes over to the door and leaves without saying a word. 

You hang your head letting tears spill down your face. 

You bring your shaking hand up to where Johnny’s mark was, it stings as your fingers touch the raw flesh, you wince as you feel it. You sob following the fresh wound all the way around, the indents his teeth left have been replaced with a continuous circle, removing them all. You can already feel the wound healing though, the skin feels tight and hot. 

You drop your hand when the door opens and watch as Mandy and the professor walk in. He comes over to you and looks at the wound you were just touching. His hands land on the top of your arms and he gently pulls you forward so he can see the marks on your back. 

“Doesn’t that feel so much better?” He asks letting you sit back. Pain pulses through you as your skin hits the back of the bed. No, you feel horrible. You feel sick. His hand comes to your chin and he pulls your face up to look at him.

“You are mine. You were always mine.” He says. He’s smiling, he’s happy you can smell it. He leans in to kiss you. All you can taste is the salt of your tears. When he breaks from the kiss his thumbs come up to wipe a tear away.

“Don’t cry, they’re gone now.” You look up at him, in his eyes. He doesn’t look or sound angry anymore. “This is how it was always meant to be.”  

“Clean and dress the wounds, then let her get some rest. She’s had a long day.” He says to Mandy before heading to leave the room

“You- you can’t force me to break a pack bond.” You say, it’s barely audible and filled with sadness. You focus hard on not choking on your words. It’s the only thing you’ve said to him since you’ve been back. You know he will have heard you talking to Mandy- the little you do talk to her. 

For a second you think he’s going to come back towards you. Hit you maybe for talking back to him, for saying something he doesn’t like. Instead he smiles, you’re not sure what to make of it, you’re already feeling exhausted again and you’re not going to be getting any sleep soon. 

“Don’t worry about that. I’m going to take care of it.” He says and before you can even comprehend what he said he leaves the room. 

Mandy’s hand lands on the top of your arm. 

“Don’t touch me.” You say as silent tears fall down your face. She removes her hand, you can tell she’s not sure what to do. You don’t care, you just want to be left alone, you just want to sleep. 

“I’m going to give you some pain relief.” She says, lowering her voice. She’s not supposed to, she will get into trouble. Why should you care?

“The professors right. I should feel the pain. I should know what it feels like to lose my marks.” You say, you want to touch the broken skin. The marks where all you had left from them, you thought even if they were going to be far away you would always have the marks. 

Now they’re gone. There’s nothing left. 

You choke on the sob in your throat. You look over at Mandy, she’s stood with another injection in her hand. 

“It’s just morphine. 5 milligrams, to take the edge off while you heal.” 

“Just-” You compose yourself pulling your grown up over your shoulders. “Just leave me alone.” 

She doesn’t say anything, she just leaves the injection on the table and leaves the room. 

Simon called for Piper after the screaming had died down. No one else seems to be too affected by it, Piper shouldn't care they’re doing this to get you back. No matter how much he suffers it’s all to get you back. Hale would torture beta’s sometimes, she never heard them scream though. 

Simon is standing outside the room leaning up on the wall. Kyle must still be inside. There’s an aura around Simon she can’t explain, it’s nothing like she’s ever seen before. It’s almost like he’s not a person, maybe Ghost is a fitting name for him right now. 

There’s no kindness in his eyes, there’s just focus, him hiding his scent isn’t helping put her at ease but maybe that's the point. 

“He passed out twice.” he says, he keeps his voice level but Piper can hear the strain in it, it’s been a long few hours. “Need to know if we can keep going, or if he needs a rest.” 

Piper nods, swallowing the lump rising in her throat and turning to the door. She can still smell the foul scent of dead beta in the air, there is still a stain on the wooden floor. She lets out a breath and walks into the room. 

It’s dark, they’ve covered the window, he’s tied to one of the dining room chairs. He barely raises his head as Piper walks in. She didn’t bother patching up his superficial wounds just cleaned them. She was more worried about the stab wound in his chest. Luckly it missed anything important, it was only a shallow wound. It’ll be healed in a few weeks if he’s lucky. 

Kyle turns looking over at her. Piper is the most shocked by how he’s changed. He’s gone from open and welcoming, kind and caring to something hard and unusual. He even smells different, he carries himself like Ghost too.

Hard and uncaring. 

Piper pushes it to the back of her mind, she’s here to do a job and she's going to do it. She puts her bag down on the bed and unzips it and pulls out her stethoscope. Kyle moves closer to her and she looks up at him, she can see blood on his arms, his face. It’s not his though. 

Piper walks over to the person in the chair, his head is slumped forward and she can hear him breathing, that's something at least. She should just tell them to take a break anyway but they want to continue. Piper knows a little bit about the psychology behind torture but it’s not exactly somthing she thinks about. 

Maybe it makes them feel better, if they keep hurting him even if he keeps his mouth shut. It makes them feel like they’re doing something to get you back. Piper pulls a glove on and picks his chin up, he barely blinks up at her. She sighs and looks over at Kyle, she wants to tell him this doesn’t look good but she’ll wait until she’s finished. 

She puts the stethoscope in her ears and starts with the back of his chest since he’s slumped forward. She can hear his heart beating rapidly, they’ve been at this for hours. He may be a beta but he’s still human, at least his lungs sound clear.

Kyle shifts his weight and the man in the chair reacts, he tries to pull his head up. She wants to reassure him, tell him not to move but she’s not sure if she should be talking to him. Instead she feels around his neck and up the back of his head, it’s a little swollen but he’s alive and breathing. 

“Are you a doctor?” He groans, lifting his head up. Piper’s eyes flick up at Kyle, it’s almost like she needs permission from him. He doesn’t say anything. She blows out the nerves and pulls a pen light out her pocket.

She pulls his head up and decides to keep her mouth shut. This man was involved with the people who kidnapped you, he’s not a friend he doesn’t deserve her comfort. 

“Your hands are cold.” He slurs as she shines the light in his eyes. “My brother’s a doctor. His hands are always cold.” 

Piper walks back over to her bag and puts everything in. She looks up at Kyle, his eyes are digging into the man. No one knows his name or maybe they so know. Piper doesn’t want to know, the more he becomes a person to her the harder it will be to hate him. 

That's how she did it in the bunker, with all the people she hurt whether she wanted to or not. The betas and alphas she let get hurt, that she killed. It was all for the progress of the formula. She picks her bag up and heads for the door, she can hear Kyle following after her. 

She’s not a good person. She reminds herself as she steps outside. 

“He’s okay. Well not okay but he can take more.” She says. 

“How much more?” Ghost asks. She looks up at him, she can see the hardness in his eyes. If it was up to him he would keep going until he would break or be dead. 

“Until you get what you want.” She says, his eyes dilate, his scent fills the space. She hears the door open as Kyle goes back into the room. 

Piper turns to the stairs but Ghost grabs her arm. She freezes in place. 

“We’ll get her back, even if he doesn’t give us the intel we need we’ll find her.” He says. Now he sounds more like Simon. 

“Doesn’t make it easier.” She says. She should be used to this; she’s not a good person. 

“Go get some air.” He says letting go of her arm. She nods and heads down the stairs dropping the bag down on the sofa and heads outside. Piper looks out over the road at the other houses in the cul de sac. It’s not ever a place Piper thought there would be a safehouse but maybe thats the point. 

She hears the door open behind her as she takes a long breath of cold morning air. She expects it to be John or Johnny but instead she turns to see Kate. 

Kate sighs, reaching in her pocket for something and offers her a cigarette. 

“I don’t smoke.” Piper says, wrapping her arms around her chest, it’s cold out even so the air is filled with the sound of crickets.  

“Neither do I. Or at least that's what my wife thinks.” Kate says lighting the cigarette. Piper shivers, the sounds of screaming can barely be heard outside. That's good, at least they won’t have the neighbours complaining at least. 

“How are you feeling?” Kate asks. For once Piper is not sure what to say. They’re torturing him so that they can find you, so they can rescue you. It doesn’t make it any easier. 

“I wish I knew where he was.” Piper says. “I wish I could help more.” 

“You are helping.” Kate says, taking a long drag of her cigarette. 

“How long does it usually take?” Piper asks, she shivers remembering how blooded his body looked.

“They’re good, but he’s a shadow and he’s trained, he’ll be able to endure more than most.” Kate explains it like this is common practice. “Another day maybe.” 

“If he survives that long.” Piper says. 

“Is he that bad?” Kate asks. 

“He’s a beta, he can keep going. His wounds won’t take long to heal, it’s more the stress on his heart I’m concerned about.” Piper says digging her toe into the dirt. 

“You sounded like a proper doctor for a second.” Kate chuckles. 

“I am a proper doctor. ” Piper snaps back at her. She doesn't mean for it to come off so harsh, she turns to apologise. 

“I mean, I can’t imagine you had much use for the hippocratic oath when you were helping Hale. Killing innocent people, torturing the omega.” Kate says, taking another long drag of her cigarette, it stops Piper in her tracks. 

“You’re never going to let me live that down.” Piper scoffs. 

“The torture and murder of US civilians.” Kate says as a matter of fact. "Probably not." 

“I never killed anyone.” Piper snaps, everyone who died under Hales was for the betterment of the formula. “Besides you’re CIA.” Piper scoffs. 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Kate asks, turning to look at Piper. Instead of snapping back Piper sighs looking out at sunset. It’s been almost a whole day since you left, if not over 20 hours by this point. 

“I never hurt her.” 

“I know.” Piper hears the apology in her tone. 

“If it wasn’t for me the omega would still be down there. She would have never gotten out.” Piper says. 

“How did you manage to get out? I thought he killed anyone who tried to escape.” Kate asks. 

“When I was trying to help the omega escape he was too interested in chasing after her and left some random scientist to take care of me. He let me go. Took my ID card covered in some blood and let me walk away.” Piper says and sighs. “I worked with him for 5 years and I couldn’t even tell you his name.” Silence falls between them as they look out at the rising sun. 

“Think there would be any other scientists around who could help?” Kate asks. Piper chuckles. 

“Would you trust any of them?” She asks. 

“No, probably not.” Kate says, blowing out a plumb of smoke. “John’s desperate though, he’ll never admit it. I can see it on him, he's struggling.” 

Piper sighs, she can see it too, she's not sure how longer he'll last like this. “His omega has been kidnapped by people who only want to do her harm. I’m surprised he hasn’t gone on some unhinged rampage to find her yet.” 

“That’ll be the military in him. He’s the Captain, if he falls apart they all do.” Kate says. Piper looks over at her, she’s relaxed a little at least. Piper gets it, Kate doesn’t like her - she shouldn't, she's not a good person, she reminds herself. 

“He liked the bunker, thought the deeper he went underground the harder it would have been for the government to find him.” Piper scoffs. “I guess nature got the last laugh, he could only dig one level down before hitting some kind of rock.”  

“Rock?” Kate asks. 

“Yeah, he carved out enough space for his office and private-” 

“How deep?” Kate asks, there's urgency in her voice. Piper turns fully to look at her and raises an eyebrow. 

“I don’t know, a few hundred meters.” Piper shrugs. She watches as Kate presses her lips together before flicking the rest of her cigarette on the floor and stamping it out. She turns back into the house and Piper follows as Kate walks straight into the dining room. 

“John, what explosives did you use when you blew the bunker?” Kate asks, Johnny looks up at her frowning. 

“C4 it was all I could get on hand at such short notice.” He says. 

“What is it?” John asks. 

“Can C4 blow through rock, deep rock a few hundred meters underground?” Kate asks. 

“Wait, Kate. The bunker’s gone.” Piper says her eyes flicking up to John who’s crossed his arms. 

“If the bunker was laying on top of rock there’s a chance all we did was cause a cave in.” Johnny says. “I didn't have a lot of time to figure it out. I was pretty much winging it.” 

“So the bunker could still be operational.” Kate says. Piper feels sick, no, it has to be gone. She moves her hand up to press on her stomach. Why didn’t they think about this sooner, they should have thought about it sooner. 

“Can we get ground readings for the area? Then I'll be able to let you know more.” Johnny asks, standing up. 

“You can do one better, when Al, Rudy get here, take them and Nikolai and check it out in person.” John says.

“It could take days- weeks to get the papers you want. If they have them.” Kate says. 

“The bunker is just over the border.” Piper says. She feels guilty, they should have checked, they should have known he could go back to the bunker. “I want to go with you.” 

“No.” John says shutting it down almost immediately. 

“I can help-”

“No.” John says again this time his voice is laced with authority, he sighs looking over at Johnny. 

“Round everyone up, we need to have a meeting.”

For some reason it feels strangely grounding, being kneeled by the professor, his hand resting on the back of your neck. It’s something you’ve done before in the past, many times, for many hours. You don’t feel tired though, just groggy. 

The professor lets you have some pain relief while your wounds are healing. All you can feel now is the hot tightening of skin. He leaves them uncovered though, running his fingers over them almost every chance he gets. Each time he touches them you bite down on the inside of your cheek. 

Now you’re used to the taste of blood in your mouth, at least the skin heals quickly. 

“How do you feel?” He asks his hand resting on the base of your skull. 

“Okay.” You say, the mix of pain relief and drug to relax you has made your head feel stuffy and your muscles relaxed. You sit still for him, letting him touch your neck and shoulder however he wants. You try to imagine it’s John, or any of your pack but it doesn’t help it feels wrong. 

They would never touch you the way he is touching you, they would never force you to have your skin carved up and drug you so you can’t fight them. 

“Good, I want you to feel safe here. You are safe here.” He says squeezing the base of your skull before his hand travels down to the bottom of your neck. You let out a breath for him shifting your weight onto your other leg. 

You hear a knock on the glass door. 

“Come in.” He calls. You look over the desk to see Mandy come in. 

“Maybe we could talk in private, Professor?” She asks. She seems nervous again, she’s nothing like Piper, Piper was never nervous when talking to the professor. You don’t know if that's a good thing or not. 

“We can talk here.” He says, his hand tightening on the back of your neck. Mandy looks unsure, her eyes are darting between you and the professor. 

“I don’t think forcing her heat is a good idea.” Mandy says. A pit forms in your stomach, you remember they’ve taken your birth control out. He still wants a pure-bread omega, he still wants to use you as an incubator. 

“Why is that?” The professor asks, his fingers dig into the base of your skull. It makes your head spin, his fingers are edging over your scent glands. It wouldn’t even take much pressure for him to subdue you. 

“She has a pack now, she’s still bonded to them. If you try to be with her she will be aggressive towards you.” Mandy explains. Good, maybe you’ll kill him and this will all be over. 

“I wouldn’t worry about that. I have certain…precautions in place.” He says. You have no idea what that means but it can’t be good. Maybe he’ll strap you down and you won’t be able to move, you won’t be able to do anything when you’re in heat. 

“I also have some concerns regarding the x-rays I took.” She says gripping the folder in her hand. They took x-rays? You don’t remember that, it must have been while you were scuffed. The professor hums, his hand leaves your neck so he can take the folder out of her hand. 

You could get up and run. You’d only make it to the lift though. The he would lock the doors and punish you, or maybe he wouldn’t. He seems different, almost gentle. 

“I don’t see anything that is beyond your capabilities.” He says putting the scans back in the folder. 

“Of course, Professor but-” 

“But what? You have a whole team working with you, medical staff, scientists. Figure it out and don’t bother me again.” He says, there's anger in his voice, his hand lands back on the back of your neck. He strokes his hand down to your shoulder and up to your cheek. 

“You’re upsetting my omega.” He says, his voice suddenly filled with concern. You flare your nostrils, all you can smell is the bitter scent of your fear. You quickly try to mask it and look down at your knees. 

“Of course, sorry.” You hear Mandy say, you hear the door open and shut and the ding of the lift. He lets out a sigh getting up off his chair. You sit there as still as possible waiting for him to come back. You hear him pouring himself a drink, you can smell the alcohol. 

“Come.” He orders. You look over at him walking over to the sofa. You get up and walk over to him, your legs are numb and for a moment you feel like you’re going to trip. Maybe you could fall on the marble coffee table and knock yourself out. 

You look up at the professor, his arm resting around the back of the sofa, the disgusting leather sofa that reminds you of sex. You sit down next to him, his hand comes to your chin pulling it to look up at him. You blink hoping he won’t kiss you as his eyes scan your face. 

“You look so much prettier when you’re not crying all the time.” He says before leaning in for a kiss. You let him do what he wants with your mouth, not giving him anything back, only moving your tongue when you need to. You hold back the tears, you can’t even imagine it’s someone else, you don’t want to imagine it’s someone else. 

When he breaks from the kiss he smiles at you. You give him the faintest smile back, if not to hide the wobble in your bottom lip. You can taste bitter alcohol on your tongue, it stings the open wound on your cheek. 

“Will you lay on my lap?” He asks. You nod, pulling your legs up on the sofa and lay your head on his lap. His thumb brushes the empty spot on the back of your neck. His scent is overwhelming. 

You think back to your first time with John. He wheeled you out of the hospital room to the fresh air. It was an open field, surrounded by a wall but it was real grass, a real sky. The breeze was real, the rain was real, the smell. The smell of the fresh rain hitting the fresh dirt. 

The ground after rain and the warm sun. That is how you will always remember your alphas. 

John and Simon, they are your alphas, your pack. 

“You’re going to be my omega tomorrow. As soon as your wounds are healed.” He says, his thumb brushes over the back of your neck. He relaxes further into the sofa as you project your scent for him, like you’re supposed to. Just like the good omega you’re supposed to be. 

“Would you like that?” He asks. You freeze. There’s only one answer he wants to hear. 

“Yes.” It’s all you can manage, barely audible. Tears roll down your face as you say it. 

You’ve betrayed your pack, they don’t deserve you. Maybe it would be easier for everyone if you break the bond. Then you remember their faces, each one of them one by one. The people you love, the people you thought you would spend the rest of your life with. 

“Good.” He says, his hand brushing over your head. “My perfect omega, I’m so glad you’re home.” 

Maybe he’s right, maybe no matter how many times you try to run you’ll always come back here -back home.

next

Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui

[laylasverse]

EXCUSE THE MESS ᰋ is a shifting ask game inspired by frank ocean's channel orange with a focus on your relationships in your desired realities. ﹙ reblog for asks & send emojis to ask ﹚

cw! a few of these questions are less "fun" and more phycological. i completely understand if that's not your cup of tea. take care of yourselves <3

𐔌 . 💫 ⋮ 'BOUT YOU ֹ ₊ ꒱ what do you reminisce on late at night? is it a person you had to leave behind? someone who left you? why are you still reminded of that past? are you upset with the memories? do you regret them?

𐔌 . 🩳 ⋮ SWEET LIFE ֹ ₊ ꒱ what are the sweetest parts of your relationship with your s/o? all the not sugar-free, tooth-aching sweetness you two share. is your dynamic as simple as grumpiness vs sweetness or is it something more complex?

𐔌 . 🥂 ⋮ SUPER RICH KIDS ֹ ₊ ꒱ is there something in your desired realty that we would think is fantastical or unheard-of but is completely normal there? do you splurge thousands of dollars a day like you're in gossip girl? or fly around on a broomstick?

𐔌 . 🍃 ⋮ PILOT JONES ֹ ₊ ꒱ who is your bad influence? the one person you can count on to be involved with something insane and drag you along with them? have they always been "bad"? why won't you let them go?

𐔌 . ✈️ ⋮ LOST IN THE HEAT ֹ ₊ ꒱ was there a point where you were "lost" in your desired reality? a point where you knew you weren't going the way you want but couldn't recognize the way back? could be physical or emotional.

𐔌 . 🎹 ⋮ BAD RELIGION ֹ ₊ ꒱ what or who do you turn to when you need a safe space? do you turn on your favorite album and sit alone in your bedroom? do you have a friend you know will always be comforting ear? perhaps you take solo walks around your neighborhood?

𐔌 . 🍊 ⋮ FORREST GUMP ֹ ₊ ꒱ who runs your mind? the person you're always thinking about? when you make a joke that doesn't quite land, who do you know would've loved it?

﹙ ordered by track list ﹚ ꕀ would you laugh if i told you one of my least favorite colors is orange...

[absolutebl]

I'm finally watching Your Sky, and I need to know, does "naughty" carry a different connotation in Thai? Because in English, it's used either for misbehaving children(though more rarely these days), or it's used in a kinky and/or sexual way with adults. Is that the vibe when it's used in Thai? Or is it just not a great translation?

Your Sky Use of Word Naughty

Never trust the captions...

Okay this is kinda the same answer as your other (earlier) question about the "broken" arm in Heart Killers.

One of the primary differences between Thai and English (and English and most other languages, in fact) is how much more vocabulary English has.

English is a brutal language but it can be very precise with its brutality. That brutal precision is almost entirely invested in word choice. English is "widely considered to have one of the largest vocabularies in the world." But it is Roman Empire about it. English doens't so much borrow words form other languages and bap them on the head, absorb them, and then call them their own. We have a lot. And culturally, especially for those who worth with language, the RIGHT word carries with it phycological, class, and education connotations. In other words, as a native English speaker you will be judged on your word choice. In fact, culturally, you are being judged, constantly.

Thai has a lot of borrowed words too but at its core, its vocabulary is very limited. This makes is an easy language to learn for some, because this factor means there is much less route memorization, but it ALSO means all its precision is carried by modifiers, tone, and body language.

In other words, it is a lot more is open to interpretation and you have to pay much closer attention to HOW something is said.

Also the precise word in English may not be known or available to the translator. In other words, the flaw is on English's side (too many options) not Thai's side. It means what it means in Thai, but in English the vocab choice by the translator might not be quite right (by English standards).

One word, in Thai, not only "can" mean many things, but probably does mean many things. It depends on how it's said, where it is placed in the sentence, whether it is repeated, and most importantly, what other words are surrounding it.

Okay so in terms of the word "naughty" IMHO that's actually an okay translation. This is not kinky or incorrect, it is a joke nick name. Lak is the opposite if naughty which Fah and his dad both know, so it's a cute pet name. An equivalent colloquialism in English might be when you call a sweetheart friend "Trouble." Perhaps "mischievous" might be a better direct translation than naughty but that's a real mouthful and one thing caption writers always want is shorter words to take up less screen real estate.

The exact phrase being used in this narrative is a Thai idiom. Thus it may have additional meaning to someone Thai that I'm not aware of.

(source)

[emeraldsfanfics]

I'd hate to be annoying but 2 other ideas: ROTTMNT Donnie with in a situationnship with paranoid reader who needs Donnie to answer their constant questions to make them feel safe about life(Sometimes it worsens Readers paranoia)

Any ver of Donnie with reckless reader who specifically mutated themselves to be like a glowstick. They stand in the sun long enough and then their veins + eyes glow in the dark, they did the mutation for fun and has even mutated their friends to have annoying special quirks as well

Reassurance

◇A Donnie x paranoid!reader◇

HI AGAIN ARTIST! <3 Do I'll be doing the first one and perhaps do the second one another time, thank you for the request! <3

◇He's questioning your sanity at first, tried doing a phycological analysis many times

◇With how much you cling onto him, hes questioning your relationship status?? Because isn't the way your hugging him considered romantic and makes him feel things?

◇Pretty awkward but does his best

◇Example:

Donatello was sitting on the couch as his brothers were out on the skating ramp. Just on his phone scrolling on tiktok. In his own world.

Until the sound of footsteps started getting louder and louder. Repeating over and over again. Resulting in you standing right in front of him. Making your way next to him, quietly, snuggling onto his plastron.

He felt your shaking, your trembling hands. Heavy breathing. Rapid eyes Everything about your current state screamed anxiety.

Donnie did not know what to do, the one who he had admired from afar is right there. Yes, he did in fact have the urge to throw you off of him.

"Uh...what is this?" He bluntly asked, not moving a centimeter.

"My ex is after me, he's after me, I've seen him everywhere!" You panicked, you clenched your heart.

"It's okay? Technically he wouldn't be disturbing enough to willingly come down here, unless he is phycotic enough." Donnie shrugged, "and he can challenge me >:)"

"What if he is that crazy?!" You panicked, it looks like you haven't slept for weeks, "HE CAN BE IN THE WALLS!" You almost pull your hair, "recording this very conversation..."

"These walls? Please. Scoff." He shrugged off.

◇Sorry but bro does not help whatsoever, at first

◇You know sticks from sonic boom (my underrated paranoid badger), yeah, that's literally you

"I haven't slept in 28 days."

◇You both don't sleep at all, it takes the forces of heaven to get you two to sleep. Or just Raph putting a blanket over you and Donnie, either will do

◇instead of 🎶helpless🎶 it's 🎶sleepless🎶

◇sleepy eyes and eye bags are your makeup look at this point

◇Later in the relationship, Donnie actually found himself to care for you, but the signs were all too hard to notice

◇Now of course, you are extremely difficult to read, he isn't sure if his feelings are platonic or Romantic

◇He actually thought he was severely sick because he wanted to be around you and dreaded your attention💀

◇Donnie is emotionally unintelligent while you are just paranoid, you both are so chaotic 😭

◇Everyone is just waiting for SOMETHING ANYTHING to develop or happen between you two, like admit you deeply care for each other

◇But nope, you two only spend a ridiculous amount of time together

◇But that doesn't mean Donnie doesn't learn anything from his experience with you. Like how to try to comfort you

◇So that is what he does, research everything on how to comfort someone like you

"Do you think there are lizard people running the government and controlling all media?"

"We exist so technically there is a slim-" He stopped himself with widened eyes, "NO NOT AT ALL THATS STUPID. No...no."

"Your right...THERE IS AND WE HAVE TO GO USE VIOLENCE!" *pulls out a grenade and chainsaw*

"Not the ideal thing but I like where your heads at."

◇Donnie may have fallen in love, either platonically or Romantically at that moment

◇You two are violent agents of chaos when in battle though, neither of you hold back

Donnie: "BLAST THEM WITH THE BOOM CANNON >:)"

Leo: "Donnie no, dad is in that thing."

Donnie: "Can I at least go semi lethal?"

Y/n: "Why semi when you can go NUCLEAR?"

◇Once you came to the lair on Donnie's birthday and got him uranium, Donnie now is stuck to your hip

Leo: uhh Y/n, where did you even get that?

Y/n: Government facility, where else?

Donnie: *whispers while clenching to uranium* I love you

◇Donnie was disappointed when you didn't take him with you though

So sorry it took a long time 😭 I only got one more request to fulfill then I'm going to do my own original writing :3

[globlingoober]

Jimmy is a very well written terrible abuser character. He really has no redemption and his thought process being “I’m the captain I’m the best I’m in charge” vs “I’m terrible and everyone knows it” is so interesting because that’s the thought process that creates many bad people with abusive behaviors.

All of the characters are well written I think because the game really relies on the key technique of show don’t tell which is the number one rule that takes place in good media. Especially a phycological horror. That’s from a general media fan’s standpoint anyway.

Stuck in space is such a good troupe I’m in awe that the game took that and made it terrifying like a proper phycological horror by having all the real threats human made while making the player feel insane and questioning what’s real. such as “are there real monsters on this ship?” And the answer is yes but the monster isn’t the visions of creatures it’s the abuser’s mind whom others let fester and evolve into thinking his actions were excusable therefore making them devolve into more bad extreme actions.

Playing from said abuser’s point of view gives the player connection to him and start the game with an almost defensive mindset up until they have to face the realization they are the problem and do everything they can to disconnect from Jimmy something they cannot escape from without turning off the whole game and just ignoring those actions. You have to face it. And as well as that mentality Jimmy has is portrayed we really only see his and some of curly’s perspective (two of the main causes of both the abuse and the crash) playing Curly makes seeing him dehumanized later on far more difficult as your forced to shove meds down his throat.

Anya, Swansea, and Daisuke are pov’s we never see and there could be several reasons for that and I find that so interesting. But we are not the victim in this game. As much as we hate to face it Jimmy is the main character and the main story is his and Curly’s experience. Because you play them you can’t ever completely be the victim. If “your worst moment” really “doesn’t make you a monster” then many repeating worst moments do. You can’t just say sorry you have to improve and change. Sorry is just another word.

You have to “take responsibility” for what you’ve done while still being limited to the actual actions Jimmy takes. Despite however you feel about it you still pushed the buttons. You still played out those actions. The game forces you to face it putting the player in the most humanly uncomfortable and uncommon position of all, the abuser. Many times in our lives will we be forced to tread the thin line of taking responsibility and wrongly placing blame (on ourselves or others) while of course our situations may never be as severe as the situations presented the game warns you of the consequences of- NOT your choices but the responses to those actions. It’s a big test of how the player responds to the characters actions that they contributed to.

I adore that the idea was to make the player face their own pain and hurt. That’s passionate. People relate to the crews cast plenty but the scariest part of this horror game is relating to the perpetrator!!!

“like you ARE the abuser. You have to realize that abusers are just people. People you thought were good before. They could be anyone they are some evil 3rd force. It could literally even be you” -My friend @willowwhirll

Feel bad. feel guilt. but manage that guilt. Don’t let guilt make you worse, use it to change your actions. As badly as I, the player, and the audience want to disconnect from Jimmy being able to find traits to connect to allows you to acknowledge you can and sometimes are a bad person. It’s a fluctuating thing.

Horror that teaches you a lesson. Fricken beautiful.

[lanternfields]

EDIT: Chapter five is up!

Okay! I made an official promotional poster for my fic and my Beneath the Mind AU and for those who just saw this post, this au is best summarized as:

new summary:

World Tour gave us lore of how the 6 tribes lived in isolation until the event of the movie. But what if that wasn't the case? What if the isolation ended long before the movie started but there was no happy ending. Rock for decades have been trying to unite everyone since before King Thrash's reign and now in the present the war between the musical tribes and Rock has been raging for so long. On the surface it seems as if Rock will win within a few years but things don't last. This brings out one of Rock's Colony leaders, Jade, who once upon a time was named John Dory but now has forsaken his pop origin and seemingly is loyal to Rock. Things are never simple though, things begin to spiral out of control that would eventually lead to JD joining the resistance later on. Political and historical complexities mixed with musical prejudices mar this world of trolls. Nothing is black and white. John Dory and many others are caught up in the middle for the ending of this decades long conflict with Rock. Personal relationships are burned, new ones will be formed, and the past eventually will catch up to those who run. One thing is clear though, every troll wants peace but at what cost is to be paid?

OG Summary: What if the lore that World Tour gave us was WAY darker than it was? What if for DECADES the Rock Trolls have been trying to unite every tribe in a long war and a resistance as old as the war itself is still raging on against Rock? What if I told you John Dory is the mysterious villain and Colony Leader, Jade, whose trying to turn the Bounty Hunters into Rock Zombies through a special mentally taxing conversion? What if the Bergens had something happen to them as form of revenge for all the years they've spent feasting on trolls by the very creature they thought was their source of happiness? What if most of the trolls are morally grey and will do what they believe to survive and bring harmony again in the world?

Okay all what ifs aside, this au and fic deals with many phycological horror elements, themes of war, murder, trauma (a lot of trauma), nothing involving SA since I don't like writing that stuff, a very heavy plot, WORLDBUILDING, and probably a romantic subplot later the down the long long line.

Also warning, this fic and AU if not made obvious enough with the stuff up top is meant for the OLDER side of the trolls fandom, its not meant to be kids friendly at all and if you don't like reading dark stuff that upsets you then pls DO NOT READ this fic. It's meant to be fun and entertaining to those who like dark stuff in fics.

Another thing to add is that this fic and AU is still pretty young and I'm still working everything out. So updates on the fic will be a bit slow but I'll try my best to get chapters out. Since this AU and fic is my first time writing in a while so my writing style in the already posted first 4 chapters of the fic may be a bit wishy washy but its getting there.

Last thing is that I'm planning on making this a multi fic series but no promises.

Hope to whomever is new to my fic and AU that you'll like it! And if you have any questions my ask box is open : ]

[replacementcodeau]

Sorry to bother if you've already explained this but-

What happened to Pomni's phycological state?

- Does she remember being a normal human who entered the circuit?

- Did Pomni gain Caines' code that was meant for him specifically so that's why she isn't acting like herself in the animatics?

- Is there a higher forse not letting her reverse things?

I also have a few more questions...

- by the rules of this AU, can any of the cast members kill Pomni and then take over the circuit?

- Can she go to the adventures with the others or is she now restricted to stay at the circus?

- Do the others remember her originally being a normal human or are their brains not effected?

Don't worry, you can ask whatever you want uwu

-Pomni's psychological state in the AU isn't that good, she's been there for a long time and being the one who spends the most time with Caine has caused some consequences, after she becomes the admin of the circus, her psychological state does nothing but descend

-El estado psicológico de Pomni en el AU no es tan bueno, lleva mucho tiempo ahí y ser la que pasa más tiempo con Caine le ha traído algunas secuelas, después de que se convierte en la administradora del circo, su estado psicológico no hace más que descender

-Yep, she remembers everything that happened and knows that she's a human and that she's trapped uwu

-Sí, ella recuerda todo lo que pasó y sabe que es una humana y que está atrapada uwu

-Yep uwu

-mostly it's because of the damage that was caused by eliminating caine, and the fact that the ringmaster's position must not be empty

-mayormente es por el daño que se le ocasionó al eliminar a caine, y el hecho de que el puesto de maestro de ceremonias no debe estar vacío

-basically yes, whoever kills the admin must take his place, something like "whoever kills death will become death" or something like that xd

Although this could only happen after Pomni took control.

-básicamente sí, quien mate al admin debe tomar su lugar, algo así como "quien mate a la muerte se convertirá en muerte" o algo así xd aunque esto solamente podría llegar a pasar luego de que pomni tomo el control

-yes she could go on the adventure with them, but mostly she would be a support, administrator or observer, if in an adventure they need help, they should only call her and she will appear

-sí podría ir a la aventura con ellos, pero mayormente sería un apoyo, administrador u observador, si en una aventura necesitan ayuda, solo deben llamarla y ella aparecerá

-only 3 of them can remember what really happened and who Pomni really is: Gangle, Ragatha and Jax

Kinger and Zooble can't remember it because their memories were affected during the incident

-solo 3 de ellos pueden recordar lo que realmente sucedió y quién es realmente Pomni: Gangle, Ragatha y Jax Kinger y Zooble no pueden recordarlo porque sus recuerdos se vieron afectados durante el incidente

[souplawsuit]

the Robert Daly hate gotta stop yo 😭 I don’t think anyone who watches BLACK MIRROR aka the show that makes you think and question things (usually morally) is going to approve of this characters actions or morals. That’s like the whole point

Robert Daly (I like to call him Robert Baely) sucks, he’s creepy and weirdly entitled and way too comfortable with making morally wrong choices. I think everyone who watched both episodes knows that… part of the appeal is that he’s secretly dark and “I can fix him”. The first episode frames him as a victim as well, which is clearly not the case but it’s not bad to question why a character does certain things, what has affected them so negativity to cause this? I feel it’s very common to analyze a characters phycology like this.

I don’t see people question others about liking Homelander, who’s like the worst character ever. His backstory is horrific as well; Grew up in a lab and abused in different ways by the only people who knew, people who are supposed to care for him. Of course he acts this way, doesn’t make it right whatsoever, and it will never be a valid excuse either..

Let people enjoy things, it’s not like anyone here is aiming to mimic his actions and idolizes his inhumane choices. He’s just a silly little guy who could have had a different life, different outcomes if he made different choices. It’s fun and interesting to think about, but it doesn’t mean anyone approves of his actions.

Alright Robert Daly enjoyers, let’s all go on our weekly brunch and discuss how we approve of his actions and wish to be just like him 😘😍 let’s “glaze” him over our morning coffee as we plan a way to imitate all the shit he did ❤️/sarcasm/

Not everyone has to like him and that’s fine, but let people enjoy things. I am literally just attracted to him because he is hot!! That’s not a crime oh my goodness. There are real world issues to focus on and dare I say this isn’t one of them. I think the same judgments should to be extended to other people who enjoy characters that have terrible morals and do terrible things because of it. (I don’t believe anyone should be judged period, but this feels a bit unfair) Fandom is for fun, let’s not be so judgmental about this kind of thing 😿