#tw; panic

[symphonicsoul]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ He doesn't know which way he went, but he doesn't have a choice in figuring it out. Setä left to go after Ling again and he was too far out to go looking for him by the time he came home from trying to look for the girl. Opettaja is gone too now and the panic that overwhelms him is something so primal, he doesn't know how to resist it so the only thing he can bring himself to do is run.

He's too fast for Revon to catch him and he's begging the man to stay behind and take care of the others and to just be there if Setä comes home because they both know the musician will turn right around and run right back out of the door to search for his bond regardless of his own health.

He can only assume that's what Opettaja is doing right now. Regardless of his own health, he's out looking for his bond. Setä has only been gone for a little over a day, so he has to come home today - doesn't he? He really shouldn't be out in this mess and neither should Opettaja.

On the brighter side of things, Opettaja couldn't have gotten too far but with the way he crumbles at the sight of a leaf that may have accidently been drug in when someone comes back from being out in Wonderland is concerning. He can't blame him. He has assumptions as to why. He can't fault him after everything he knows about that bitch and he still swears on his own Mist that he will gut her clean the next time he sees her for everything she's dared to do to his family.

He can either look in town or look in the forest and if he somehow got out further than that, then he'll just keep moving until he finds him. There is a voice in his head that is screaming at him not to be loud lest they want Gaudium to find them but there is another that couldn't give a damn and if he has to defend himself then he will simply do just that. There is a voice in his head that is much louder that is just proclaiming should Gaudium attempt to trap him than he will just introduce them to what the wrath of an Unlimited being means.

So he's sinking out of the sink and into the trees, lower and lower until he's below their canopy and that's been he breathes in deep and yells.

"OPETTAJA! MISSÄ OLET?! KUULETKOOKO MINUA?!"

(Teacher, where are you? Can you hear me?)

||| @aquaticsoul he's searching for you

[symphonicsoul]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ He knew and he didn't know how he was supposed to ignore it. Every day the cracks got wider. Every day the fault lines continued to crawl forward on his chest and slither down his legs like an infection he had no way of ever finding the cure for. It's a cruel sick reality that he's had to come to face each and every time he dares to stand in front of a mirror, disrobed before a bath or catching the sight of his own reflection as he looks just over his shoulder while he changes into his night clothes.

He knows. He knows. He's known.

How do you ignore such a thing as your death stretching out and cracking over your skin? His heart is as shattered as his soul is but hearing it out loud is an all new sense of plunging into an unending purgatory where he's caught between this twisted space between life and death. Not quite dead yet but not quite living anymore either.

He couldn't call himself a ghost anymore even if the only thing his mouth ever did was speak from the graveyard of a lost civilization. It's hard to hear it. It's hard to hear that's no hope for him even if hope was that fickle little thing he only ever dared to pick up from time to time. Hope was a rose he should know better than to touch because while it looks beautiful from afar it pricks him every time.

It pricks him and the blood flows. It pricks him and the tears stream leaving the prince only able to wrap his arms around himself as he crashes to the ground in a weeping mess of shattering stability. He can't keep it up much longer. He doesn't know how much he can keep on the mask of his sanity before he shatters before them all and reveals the fragmented monster that rests just below the surface.

They - they were the only family he had left and he didn't need them to see their prince - their King as such a discomposed wretch as this. He knows Revon will hear the crying in the hallway and he doesn't know how to halt his tears before the man returns to his post. He'd sent him away for only a moment. He'd sent him away to check on the others while he took a moment to change in his nightgown before he would attempt to find rest this evening but seeing the mess that was his body had that little beast's voice echoing in his mind again.

"There's no saving you." He's said as he felt that phantom touch of the poisonous pink python that lives in his mind. Forever haunting his every move. "There's no saving you precious. My beautiful Little Cloud, this is your fault for defying me. Look at what you've done to yourself."

And he couldn't deny it. He couldn't deny that the beast was right. It was his fault for rebelling. His was his fault for daring to snap back at the hand that kept him safe all these years since he crash landed in this world. If you could call that safe. Was it? No. He knew that tortuous environment was anything but -but it was - all he knew since he landed here and if he had just kept his head down and obeyed then -

-then he wouldn't be dying like this. A dying immortal. What a joke!

Even if that little beast is half way on the other side of Wonderland he can see feel hands ghosting over his back as he holds his nightgown close to his chest unable to even get the damned thing on to cover his bear chest. He's a shattering mess and - and - and -

"You know this is all your fault, don't you Little Cloud? I warned you didn't I? I told you what would happen if you disobeyed me again, didn't I, my pet?"

And it's all he can do to stare back at the wretched picture of himself reflecting in the mirror. The warzone walking. Look at the mess he'd turned himself into and his lips finally part as the cries slow and tears silently stream over his face.

"Yes Master. "

“There’s no saving you.” 

As his heart shattered so did the strength in his legs sending him collapsing to the ground. Somehow he had known what their answer was going to be and yet he still found himself screaming in anguish.

[momosweetpeach]

Thought process was:

1. Law deserves to get really high and just chill out for once

2. That would be the funniest possible time that Cora reveals himself to be alive

Follow up over here

[devotion-disorder]

featuring test subject Kuuya :D

[voluntaryvictim]

Ryan Ross + Dallon Weekes Phantom Planet at the Regent Theater

[daxisyzz]

hiiii i hope you are well !!! i was wondering if you could maybe do a fic where the reader gets kidnapped and tortured by hydra on a mission or something, and after a while bucky and the team find her and save her but she’s so psychologically damaged that she’s scared of everyone? preferably lots and lots of protective and comforting bucky as he looks after her and he becomes the only person she’s comfortable with, all the angst and hurt/comfort with a happy ending would be amazing!!! thanks 🩷

Heyyy!! Hope you're doing well too. Writing this fic made me cry so I hope it's what you expected. Sorry for answering late🙃

Only safe with you

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, trauma recovery, Kidnapping, psychological torture (not graphic), PTSD, panic attacks, emotional vulnerability, mentions of touch aversion, recovery

Word count: 1.1k+

You didn’t scream when they took you.

That came later—when your voice cracked raw from begging the shadows for mercy, for death, for something other than the cold numbness pressing in around you like icewater under your skin. But in the beginning, there was only silence. The kind that hollows you out from the inside.

The kind that makes you forget your own name.

You had been captured by Hydra. A mission gone wrong. A corner turned too fast. A shot fired too late. And then it all disappeared beneath the haze of a needle and the slam of a steel door.

No one found you. Not for weeks.

And in that time, you stopped existing.

You curled in on yourself, starved and shaking, while voices you didn't recognize whispered in the dark, breaking you down with every calculated word. They told you you were abandoned. That no one was coming. That you were alone because you were unworthy of being loved.

They never needed to touch you.

They just watched you rot from the inside out.

When the team finally found you, you didn’t recognize them.

You heard the explosion first—the thunder of boots, the sharp bark of Bucky’s voice, the sound of someone screaming your name like it meant something.

But all you saw were more shadows.

You tried to crawl into the wall when they burst into your cell. Your fingernails broke against the concrete, your body instinctively folding into itself, your mouth whispering pleas in a language you didn’t know you remembered.

You didn’t know Bucky was crying until his tears hit your hands.

"Hey," he choked, dropping to his knees, blood on his knuckles and desperation in his eyes. "It’s me. It’s Bucky. I’m here, okay? I’ve got you. You’re safe."

But safety was a concept that no longer made sense to you.

When his hand brushed yours, you screamed.

You screamed like you were dying. Like you were on fire.

And something in Bucky broke that day.

The jet ride back was too bright. Too loud. You were swaddled in a blanket like a child, staring through people who whispered your name with eyes full of quiet sorrow. Natasha sat across from you, tense and silent, her hand clenched in her lap.

Steve paced quietly in the back, eyes heavy with guilt.

Tony said nothing, choosing instead to sit beside you in stillness.

They all felt the ache, but none knew how to hold it.

Because they saw the pieces of you, scattered and bloody, and none of them knew how to put you back together.

Except for Bucky.

He didn’t leave your side. Not once.

You wouldn’t let anyone else near you. The first time Bruce tried to assess your wounds, you had a panic attack so violent your lips turned blue.

But Bucky?

You let him stay.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t sleep. You didn’t see him. But he was there. Sitting on the floor, silent and patient, like he was trying to absorb your pain with every breath.

"You don’t have to talk," he whispered once, voice so low it made your ribs ache. "I’ll just be here. I’m not going anywhere."

And he wasn’t.

Not when you curled into corners, sobbing so hard you threw up.

Not when you tore your own skin in your sleep.

Not when you started to disappear into yourself again.

He stayed.

And the others watched, hurting in their own quiet ways.

Natasha lingered by your door some nights, pacing like she wanted to knock but couldn’t.

Steve brought books you didn’t read.

Tony made sure the lights never flickered in your room again.

They didn’t say much. They didn’t force anything. But they were there.

And Bucky? He just was.

Weeks passed.

You started whispering again. Small things. Words like "water" or "blanket" or "stay."

Always to Bucky.

Only to him.

He was the first person you let touch you again.

A pinky finger. Brushing yours. Barely there.

You sobbed when it happened. Clutched your chest like it hurt. Like it burned to feel something again.

Bucky didn’t cry. Not then.

But that night, Steve found him in the hallway outside your door, fists bruised and bloodied against the wall.

"I can’t lose her again," Bucky whispered, voice shattering. "I can’t."

Recovery wasn’t linear.

Some days you smiled.

Some days you screamed.

Some nights you let Bucky hold your hand.

Some nights you clawed at your own skin, begging him to make it stop.

And he did.

Not with force.

Not with words.

Just with presence.

He’d pull you into his lap, wrap his arms around your shaking body, press his lips to your temple and whisper, "You’re safe. You’re not alone. I’ve got you."

Until you believed him.

Even if only for a moment.

One night, you whispered, "Why did you stay?"

Bucky looked at you, moonlight catching the cracks in him that matched your own.

"Because you matter. Because you didn’t give up. Because you let me find you."

You blinked, tears spilling freely. "I don’t feel like a person anymore."

His voice broke. "Then let me remind you how to be one."

They say healing is like a mosaic, broken pieces coming together to form something beautiful.

You were still cracked. Still healing. Still learning how to exist in a body that had been turned into a prison.

But Bucky loved you through all of it.

With hands that never rushed.

With words that never demanded.

With a heart that only ever whispered, You are safe here.

And for the first time in months, maybe years—You believed him.

One Year Later

The morning sun slipped in through the curtains, painting your room in pale gold. The shadows that once clung to the walls had long since faded, replaced by quiet warmth and slow, steady breaths.

You sat curled on the couch, a book in your lap, half-forgotten, as Bucky entered with two steaming mugs in hand. He paused in the doorway, watching you with that soft look he reserved only for you—a kind of awe, like he still couldn’t believe you were real.

"You’re staring," you said, voice lighter, steadier now.

He grinned. "Can you blame me?"

You set the book aside and took the mug he offered, your fingers brushing his without flinching. That tiny act still felt like magic sometimes.

You leaned into him when he sat beside you, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in without a word.

There were no more nightmares that week.

You’d started laughing again. Dancing in the kitchen. Humming in the shower.

You still had days where the world felt fragile, like it could crack open beneath your feet—but you no longer fell alone.

You looked up at Bucky, your eyes soft. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

His thumb brushed your cheek. "You saved yourself. I just got to love you through it."

And you did. Slowly, then all at once. Day by day, moment by moment, you let the light back in through him.

[shannonsketches]

Sure sex is great but has your extraterrestrial not-husband ever expressed affection by learning about things that happpen to humans and panicking

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fic Idea: Online Siren

Danny makes a mistake. Or maybe he struck gold. Depending on the perspective you were looking through.

It starts one night when Sam, Tucker, Danny, and Jazz get together for a private party on Tucker's birthday. Mr. and Mrs. Foley had let them have the whole house to themselves on the agreement that it would only be the four of them. They would be keeping an eye on the security camera and motion detectors around the property. At the slightest hints of Tucker having a house party, the pair would return from Mr. Foley's sister's house to shut it down.

The group of teenagers were more than happy not to invite anyone. It's not like anyone would show- at least not with good intentions. They had an entire night plan- coffee drinks based on their types, video games, boardgames ones, painting hour, karaoke, movies, and cake after presents.

They all pitched in for pizza, and Sam offered to buy everyone breakfast in the morning. The party started at four and would end at ten the following morning. The boys would sleep in Tucker's room while Sam and Jazz crashed in the guest room together.

Danny hadn't had that much fun in such a long time that he didn't even shy away from Sam's video camera while singing. The youngest Fenton has always had a fantastic singing voice, but his stage fright has stopped him from showing off his skill in front of anyone who was not close friends or family.

The following morning, while eating at Tucker's favorite breakfast restaurant, Sam checked her phone after noticing all the buzzing. Danny could catch her face turning pastly white at whatever was on her screen. She taps aggressively, nearly frantically, which gains the attention of Tucker and Jazz.

"Sam? Everything good?" Jazz asks gentely.

"I..no..I'm sorry, Danny," She whispers after staring hopelessly at her screen. "I meant to save it in our private share, not...the anonymous one."

"What?"

"I...post poetry anonymously on this voice website. It's audio recordings only." She explains, placing the phone on the table. Her voice is hesitant. "Last night....I accidentally posted the video of you singing from the Karaoke machine I saved. The one from the Realms. And some of my followers saved it and shared it. It's trending."

Danny feels his stomach drop into his legs. "What?"

"No one knows who you are!" Sam blurts as Tucker quickly pulls out his own phone. A few seconds later, Danny's voice blares out of his speaker, the melody blending well with his singing. The Karaoke has a recording option that deletes background noise, making it far more professional than four teenagers dancing around the Foley's coffee table.

"Dude, this sounds amazing," Tucker says after a moment. "I can't believe I finally have a recording of your singing. Just look at these comments!"

The song is an open domain in the Infinite Realms, telling the tell of the first King's fall. It's rather popular for its revolutionary themes and near musical lyrics that blended with the rapid flute melody, so finding a ghost willing to share a Karaoke version took nearly no effort. People online think Danny was the songwriter.

The song on Sam's page had ninty-thousand listens, with just as many downloads- each download places ten cents in her account. So far, Danny's singing has made nine thousand dollars. It's only been twelve hours!

It got so much traction because Damian Wayne had made an edit with a popular anime and posted it on his personal account. His small usage had exploded Danny's song in only a few hours.

"Take it down!" Danny hisses, slapping a hand over Tucker's screen and glancing at nearby tables. "Sam, please take your post down."

"I did! I swear! But it's too late to stop it from spreading on the WorldClip." She tells him, and Danny's heart feels like it will explode until Jazz gently speaks up.

"Sam, can Danny have those nine grand?"

His best friend blinks momently, thrown by the question before she nods, "Of course! It's his money."

"Hmm." Jazz taps her fingers under her chin before turning Danny's face towards her. It's not until her gentle pats on his back that he realizes he is hyperventilating. "You should post more on that anonymous website. Sam can write the songs, Tucker can make the music, and you can sing."

"What!?" He choked, shocked she would even ask him. Tucker and Sam are eyeing them with wide eyes, frozen in their seats. No one knew where the fear had come from, but the two knew how badly Danny reacted to the idea of performing.

Tucker first met Danny when the boy panicked in the music room. After it was announced, the students would be singing Twinkle Little Star in the first grade. It was the first time Tucker had ever called nine-one-one, too.

He was praised as a hero, while Danny was scolded for overreacting. Tucker had held his hand until the sobbing boy's parents came to pick him up and has never left his side since.

"Danny, this fear has always left you in shambles. I think it would help you. This could be a form of exposal therapy," She says, then shrugs her shoulder. "Think about it. No one will know who you are, but your music could reach thousands without you ever having to show your face. You could pay for the college you wanted to go to in Gotham this way. All of you."

Neither Danny's nor Tucker's parents could afford to send them to Gotham University despite it being their dream school. Sam's parents refused to pay for a "useless" degree such as Botany. They had been growing uneasy with the realization dreams were not always promised as the end of the senior year approached in only a few short months.

They would never ask it of him, but Danny could see the genuine hope tucked in their eyes as they waited for his response. He licked his lips, feeling his heart still beating a mile a minute under his rib cage.

He didn't like being this paralyzed by an irrational fear. He also really wanted to help them reach their dreams.

So Danny opens his mouth and whispers, "Only until we can get to Gotham to find jobs"

Jazz's smile is bright.

________________________________________________________

A few months later, Damian practically runs Tim over in his rush to connect to the game room's surround system. Jon is hot on his heels and has the decency to shout an apology as the pre-teens rush by.

"Hey! Watch it!" He still screams at their backs, irritated. "I could've dropped my croissant!"

"Sorry again Tim!"

"You're fat anyway, Drake!"

Tim rolls his eyes, adjusting his hold on his plate as Dick rounds the corner that the children had appeared from. "What's got them rushing?"

"Online Siren just dropped a new song." Dick laughs. "Dami is a bit of a fan."

"Online Siren?"

"That's right, you were in space for five months. Online Siren is this anonymous singer that everyone is going crazy over on the internet. He's an amazing singer, but because no one knows anything about him. Not even Babs."

Tim raises a brow. "He could be using autotune."

"Maybe, but Tim, I'm telling you. Listen to his music, and you'll find you can't stop. Siren is a fitting name."

"He can't be that good," Tim mutters, following his eldest brother into the game room, where Damian and Jon have blared the speakers to the loudest setting and dancing around.

Tim draws up short at the sight of Damian Wayne actually crying as he sings along to the lyrics, acting as if the singer was right there in front of him and he was a long-time fan.

Then, the music invades his ears, and Tim feels like he is ascending on a different plane. The smooth, near silk-like voice glinds into his chest, rattling his bones, and his knees shake when the man holds a soft, seductive "Oh" for a few seconds longer then necessary.

It sends shivers down his spine.

"What is this!? It's so good!" He screams at the dancing Dick, who laughs.

"I know, right!?"

"It's too good. I think this is a real siren." Tim continues, pressing his hands over his ears. His mind flashes back to the few months he spent with his team, running for a mind-controlling alien that had nearly trapped them in the third space sector. "Dick, we're in danger! Get around from the speakers! Mind control!"

Dick stops dancing with a sigh, muttering under his breath as Tim rushes to the control panel of the speaker system. As soon as he slams it off, Damian releases a screech of an angered cat and launches at him, demanding his music back. Jon flouts nervously on the side as the two youngest Waynes brothers roll on the ground, yelling insults and taking dirty shots.

"I wish I could enjoy things with my siblings without them ruining it." He mumbles, striding forward to break up the fight, only to scream when Tim pulls out pepper spray, yowling like a madman.

"Mind control! Mind control!"

"My EYES! "

"Drake, stop!"

"You'll never get me Siren! Never!"

".I'm going to go get Mr.Wayne!"

"Make haste, Jon! Bring my father to stop this baffoon-my eyes! Drake, you bastard!"

[symphonicsoul]

⋯✧・♪♫♪・✧⋯ I won't go right now and he knows in that moment what nightmares are made of. He doesn't want Aqua to go at all but if this is all he can do to quell the urge for the moment then so be it. He doesn't want to let go. He doesn't want him out of his sight. He doesn't want to be away from him ever again. Sharing sweater time for the rest of their days for all he cares.

He misses it. He misses the simple things just like sharing sweater time when Aqua would simple approach him to lift his sweater and crawl into it as if it was made for the both of them. He misses having lazy weekends where Aqua stayed over so they could lay around in cat and shark themed pajamas and do nothing but share a bath and then lay around and watch mindless baking shows while they snacked off a caricature board.

He would give anything for those times again. Anything. Even if he knows in his heart that they're both too damaged for those days to ever come again.

He's - not the same man he was when they would do such things. They were young. They were early adults with naivety still to their names. They were wide eyed and they thought they could scrape by without ever losing a piece of themselves. They were arrogant but that soon changed with the sound of thudding footsteps and creatures that looked at them more like snacks and less like threats.

This world was everything they knew flipped on it's head. This was was so backwards it made what they knew as insanity, sane. Neither of them were who they were before. He was covered in blood and Aqua had ghosts in his gaze. But at least they had each other - right?

It's all he can do to set his bond down on the bed. His arm hurts and he can feel how weak his body has grown from all these years without the nutrition he so desperately needs. It's all he can do to slowly bring himself to try to crawl back up in bed but he stumbles and he feels himself starting to fall.

He wants to tell Aqua that he's fine and not to worry about it but before he can hit the ground there are strong arms under him and a solid body behind him as he stumbles in place.

"Woah there." The knight sounds as he steadies the man of orange only to swing his arms around and scoop him off the ground to lift and put him up on the bed himself.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Revon sighs at the sight of them as his lips come to hang down in a frown while he moves to pull out a chair and sit down on the other side of the prince's bed.

"Are you okei? His eyes are scanning over the two for the answer to his own question and he notes the bloody site on Sinfonia's arm.

"What happened to your arm?" He asks without a hint of anger in his voice. "Let me go get Cid so he can help get the IV back in. Sinfonia you have to stay in bed. You're too sour to be up and about."

"But Aqua was - "

"Sielu are you okei?" The knight asks with concern lacing his tone. "Do you need anything? Would you like me to go get your dragon too? Maybe a blanket? I need you both to rest. I can get it while I go fetch Cid to fix Sinfonia's arm up again - "

Why does it feel like he keeps screwing everything up? Sitriini needs the sugar but now he's gone and ripped the line out just to collect him off the floor.

He says he needs him. He says he needs him but he doesn't know how to explain that the person he wants is dead and gone.

The man everyone keeps looking for and waiting for and hoping to "find" is fucking gone. They said they'd be patient and they'd find him and a bunch of other stupid fucking nonsense that he can't seem to make them understand is a load of shit. He doesn't know how to explain that he's right fucking here but the problem is that now he's a broken, tarnished, walking corpse.

Only Herba could ever want who he is now. Nobody so far in this godsforsaken hell wants anything more than an idea of someone he used to be and he wishes most days they would have all just left him in that forest to finally die like he was supposed to. They certainly had no issue with othering him or yelling at him or doubting him or the whole fucking slew of things that chipped away at any semblance of hope he had left so he can't wrap his head around why they couldn't just finish the job and leave him there.

They're still hoping for their friend.

That's what they're hoping for and the person he is now has to be a disappointment to even look at.

The last time anyone even implied they needed him was when Valo went down and Aamunkoitto needed only his assistance. It was the same day Pilvi barked him down and the same day he tried with all his might to make sure he couldn't speak and inconvenience anyone ever again. It was the same day he finally decided he didn't want to fight anymore after a too-long decade of it and he's almost certain those words didn't reach a single soul in any meaningful way.

He's messed up and let everyone down countless more times since he's gotten here. It's the reason he doesn't come out anymore and when he does, he keeps his words to a minimum. He stays silent. He behaves. He knows how much of an outsider he is, yet there's nothing he can do about it. There's nothing he can do to make himself any more important than an occasional thing people let into their nests for a while. They don't need him at all and that's been the hardest thing to try and accept.

Maybe it's because he's been replaceable since he was little. Interchangeable. The most interesting thing about him to most people was always the person standing at his right and now that she's gone, it's just all too easy to fade into the background. Maybe it's weird for them to think about him and not her. Maybe they liked her more. He liked her more too.

Maybe they were disappointed by him showing up with nobody in tow. Maybe Black Wind was at least partially right and he is disgraceful... because maybe he should have died eleven years ago too. It's not been for a lack of giving up and waiting, but even death does not seem to want him.

Maybe it was all doomed from the fucking start, but Sitriini... for whatever reason, Sitriini picked him individually decades ago. Not as a set. Just as himself.

And now here he is doing it again, needing him. Wanting him. Begging for him to stay. He doesn't understand. Truthfully, he never has.

"I don't - want to leave," he cries. "I- It's- my fault he- I ruin everything. Everything. I haven't had anything to live for in so long that I just - I panicked and - This wouldn't have happened if I would have just stayed with her and- and I thought... if I go back... she'll leave him alone and then... everyone would be fine. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, just- please take the sugar. Please. I'll - I can - I - I will figure it out later, okei? I won't go right now."

[symphonicsoul]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ 𖤓 ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ He doesn't believe that he thought he would get out of the palace alone but the flare prince isn't surprised when he feels a present behind him and sure enough he is met with a set of two very large jade eyes looking at him with concern painted through their vision.

"Isoveli, where are you going?" The boy of white sounds as he starts to look around as if to see if the woman of the sapphire glow is anywhere to be seen - but yet it seems the Northern Lights are also missing.

"Shhhh." The elder prince starts. "Pikkuveli keep your voice down."

And the boy's brows raise as his shoulders slump and he feels a hand reaching out to take him by the wrist and pull.

"There's a light show going on at festival square." He says in a hushed voice. "Now do you want to go see it or not?"

"You know we're not supposed to - "

"Pilvi do I look like I give a damn about what we are and aren't supposed to do?"

The younger is shaking his head at his brother's words as he sighs.

"Alright then. So we leave now before Revon and Safiirin figure out where we are and we'll be back before it gets too dark and no one will ever know."

"But how do we get there? We can't just go out as we are. We stand out like - " And a brownish colored cloak is being tossed to the younger prince as the elder rolls his eyes near all the way to the back of his head.

"- Put that on. We can't wear our own cloaks. They're too bright and you'll stand out like a beacon. Keep your head covered."

They shouldn't be up to this at their ages but it seems some things never change. The young does as he's told, slipping the brown fabric over his shoulders and bringing the hood up over his head to hide the snow colored locks that frame his face as the elder looks him over bringing up his own hood.

"I borrowed them from some of the palace workers and we'll give them back when we get back. Now let's g-"

"-I can't leave without my sword. Mother and Father said I have to bring it every where."

"And where is it?"

"In my room."

"Well it can stay there. There's no way you're bringing the Holy Blade into town and having us not get caught."

There is an uneasy look on the face of the younger, but still he follows anyway. He follows as he always has as they make their ways through the palace halls, and to the closest room with a balcony so the two of them can fly down the city square and the crowd that is filling it is thick and loud.

The elder finds himself taking his brother by the hand and pulling to get them through the crowd as quickly as possible. Festival square isn't that much farther but he feels Pilvi's hand release his own and as he turns around to scold him, a fiery gaze watches in horror as all color leaves his brother's face in an instant and suddenly he's crashing to the ground in a heap.

"Pikkuveli!"

There is no attempt to keep his voice down or curb his tone. This was... this was a bad idea. They couldn't even make it to the square before Pilvi was collapsing like he did just last year. Last Year....

And his mind is filled with panic in an instant. Hands on the unconscious form of white, shaking him as he practically begs his brother to wake up.

"Wake up, Pilv'. Wake up. Pilv' don't do this to me, it isn't funny."

But the younger doesn't budge and he's growing paler by the second. His breathing is slow in that eerie sort of what that he had last year directly after the ritual and they thought he ...

"No no no no no, do not do this to me again."

Is this a side effect of the ritual? Is this a side effect of the Celestial Mother's power? Pilvi never used to collapse like this. They used to be able to make it so much further in town before they got caught - and it's taking everything in him not to scream in frustration as feels all the eyes around them and staring at them.

"Wait - isn't that? That's Prince Usva and - that's Prince Pilvi!!"

Vittu. He doesn't have time for this. He can't let anyone get close to -

He can feel himself panicking as he works to gather his sibling up into his arms and he thanks the skies above that still to this day Pilvi weighs next to nothing. For being fourteen - he better. He's got weight to him but it's nothing he can't handle. He just has to get himself to stop shaking.

It makes him wonder if anyone has even noticed they're gone yet or - Don't think about it Usva, just fly. As fast as you can. Just get him back to someone. Anyone.

Father is probably working. Mother will lose her mind. Revon is probably still looking for Pilvi so that means he'll be hard to find - he doesn't care about formalities at this point. He's flying through the palace halls as quickly as he can to come crashing into the same room he spends the beginning of every day in.

"Setä Sinfonia!!" He yells practically throwing the words out of his chest in a panic. A title he hasn't uttered in over a decade but he doesn't care right now. Pilvi doesn't have time for him to care.

He watches as the man jerks upright, drops the pen in his hand and turns in urgency, as if a different part of him was brought back from the dead at the sound of such a form of address.

"Usva what - Pilvi!! Put him on the couch. What happened?! Wait - why are you - Did you sneak out AGAIN?!"

"I'm sorry! We wanted to see the light show! I was going to go alone but Pilvi caught me so, of course I took him with me, and we were in the crowd and then he let go of my hand and when I turned around he collapsed. He won't wake up. It's like the ritual all over again. I can't get him to wake up. Do something."

There's tears in the corners of his eyes as he practically pleads with his uncle to act and the man is doing his best to hold himself together as he nods that he's listened. The only thing the flare prince can do is take the hand of that of the cloud as he sets on the floor next to the couch so he doesn't have to leave his side.

"Stay with Pilvi and get those cloaks off. Your Father will have your hides if he knows you snuck out again. I'll be back. Pilvi will be okay Usva. Breathe. Breathe for me and stay with him. I'll get help."

He doesn't know if he's ever seen the musician take off so fast before but he's gone in a blur of brown and orange before much else can be said.

_

He can't go to Liekki in this situation and Palo won't give him the time of day. Helakan is - on the other side of the fucking palace.... so is Ametisti and Mother isn't going to help much. Taivas is with - Helakan as he should be.

Hopefully he hasn't left yet and he's throwing the door to his classroom open in a blind panic, heaving to catch his breath as he locks eyes on the other musician with the complexion draining out of his face more and more with every passing second.

"WAIT."

He sounds in urgency. "You can't go home. I need your help. I can't find Revon. I need someone! Anyone! Pilvi collapsed."

||| @aquaticsoul - He's... frantic... and terrified.

[symphonicsoul]

⋯✧・♪♫♪・✧⋯ Its hard to continue eating dinner. Its hard not to shake. Its hard not to turn around and weep into Sielu's chest all things considered and that's exactly what he does as his bond holds him. He's out of medication. They're stuck here. They're stuck here in this hell and he doesn't even know if it's possible to go home. He doesn't know if they'll ever get back to anyone else or see them alive again. He doesn't want to fade in this place.

He doesn't want to fade - but how long can he last without his medication?

He's out of pain medication. His out of his heart medication. He's out of his psychiatrics now too. He knows when they first talked about it, Sielu said it didn't matter and he would love him regardless despite all the things he couldn't control - but it was a completely different matter when he had to look the man in the face completely unmedicated.

He doesn't even know if he'll know how to function. So he turns. He shoves his face into his bond's chest and he weeps. He weeps as he trembles and he can't tell if the shaking is became of lacking medication or fear. Maybe it's both. Probably both.

What are they supposed to DO?!

"Shhh shhh." Comes the sound a light voice of purple. She's crossed the distance it took to get to the both of them as she moves to take one hand of blue and another of orange into her own as she gives them both a light pull to get the eldest to stand and the both of them to follow her as she guides them to bed.

"Lay down. We can all lay down, and we'll hold you. No one is mad at you, Sinfonia. No one is mad at anyone. We just need to lay down and we'll try again tomorrow, okei?"

All he can do is nod through tear stained cheeks as he lays down and pulls them both up to him, so he can hold one twin in each arm. He just wants them both as close as possible right now.

He can't argue with the desperate pleas of his trembling bond, begging him not to go outside after an eruption of guilt that's surely been building since they landed here.

He abandons the spoon to rise from his place and hover behind Sitriini instead, wrapping both arms around the seated, crying form as he pushes his face into a mess of orange fluff for a moment.

"Shhh," he soothes. "Shhh. You couldn't have known. I won't go out. We aren't mad at you."

And it's the truth, at least in his mind. It's not like anyone could have predicted anything in the middle of mass hysteria and destruction. If Sitriini would have known where they would land, he sure as hell wouldn't have let it happen.

Everything was unprecedented and even Aurinko hadn't had a clue how to handle it. Even Taivas was left without any sort of contingency plan.

"I chose to go after you, okay? It's not just your fault. And I'd do it again a million times, Sitriini."

A million. And then a million more, and a billion after that.

What kind of bond would he be if he didn't?

"We will figure this out. All three of us," he assures, "together. This does not just fall on you. Tomorrow we'll figure it out. Day by day. We'll love you no matter how awful you think you are. I'd choose you any day, even the shit ones like today. We can lean on each other."

A shared sorrow is a half a sorrow. A sorrow shared three ways is just a third, right?

There's a reason he chased the man through those gales. Lots of reasons, and he'll be damned if he doesn't ever make Sitriini see them. His life's been hard enough with Syksy and Liekki's bullshit - the last thing he needs is to be abandoned in any capacity right now no matter how tired his own bones are.

[panic-flavored]

What if Robotnik survived but Stone still lost his mind, huh? What then

[allaboutsaturn]

I hope when death finds me it feels like my father carrying me to bed from the car while I'm asleep.

[dxrkl1ght]

CW: Panic attack, musophobia, and scratches!!

everything's okay...

Part 5/5

- Part 1/5

- Part 2/5

- Part 3/5

- Part 4/5

DCA! Serial Killer AU by @ayyy-imma-ninja & @moonlit-dreamers

This comic is not canon to the AU!! This is just made for fun :)

[amelia-yap]

internal screeching

[reginalusus]

Dissociative Identity Disorder and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Do you ever just want to illustrate your blorbos Going Through It™.

HC territory.

I know we've seen Jason deal with his PTSD a few times, particularly in AK, WFA and UTRH, all in different forms, but I wanna see that boy clutch his chest and recite words of the past as he crawls towards the darkness of the room as his panic starts to overtake him - the darkness, the shadows, where Bruce always told him it was safe, where you could take cover - and grasp desperately for an item of the present before the rage kicks in (the second wave of defence).

For Harvey, I know we've kinda seen it here and there, mainly through his relationship with alcohol, but I want to see him taking copious amounts of painkillers to soothe the headaches and muscle strain from switching alters. He downs throat soothers like no one's business after doing that voice, and when the derealization episode hits after the stress and scare of it all, he falls into a catanionic state, wearily gazing around him, wondering if he's real with his coin as his anchor.

Anyway. :P