#‘’aren’t the hallucinations scary??’’

[phantomswolf]

psychosis is such a double edged sword. i feel bad coz like. yeah it sucks absolute wild hog balls sometimes, but i really can’t imagine a world where i wasn’t afflicted by the Curse

[skykittywhatchamahcallit]

Oooough sometimes I so do wish there were spaces for people like me who have stress-based hallucinations. They SUCK and I never hear anyone else talk about them

[vynnblr]

sleep paralysis istfg please let me be that was fucking awful

[stranger-writer]

A Nightmare in Hawkins

Summary: Eddie Munson has become an infamous town legend of Hawkins since the events that transpired in 1986. Whether it’s to scare children or used as a creepy Halloween ghost story, everyone knows his name and the terrifying mark it has left behind. Recently, you find yourself having consistent nightmares about him, but these just aren’t any ordinary night terrors. He’s haunting you in your sleep which starts to bleed into the waking hours of the day. Can you stop him? Or better yet, is Eddie actually the monster everyone claims he is?

Warnings: blood, scary nightmares and “hallucinations”, cursing, biting, 18+, mentions of sexual themes, possessive eddie

Of course this is heavily inspired by the classic, A Nightmare on Elm Street! Hope you all enjoy it! Reblogs and comments are much appreciated!🖤

…………………………………………………………………………….

1, 2 Eddie’s coming for you…

You were there again. The sky that same hue of red and blue, the sound of lightning taking its violent strike, and the snow-like particles dancing in the air that you began to recognize all too well.

The dreams were always taking place in this strange, unknown place, except tonight, you’re standing right on the concrete pathway staring straight ahead at your house. However, this is nothing like home.

Slithery vines are wrapped around its entirety to the point where you couldn’t tell where one started and one ended. They were right by your scuffed up sneakers too, teasingly moving as if waiting for you to make one wrong step. One wrong move. The windows were boarded up, the beautiful flowers your mother planted are now sitting decayed and lifeless. Here, your house is a corpse that’s rotting from the inside out.

The front stained glass door begins to open with an obnoxious creak that’s similar to nails on a chalkboard.

Your heart begins to pound in your chest. You close your eyes, trying something different that can maybe make you snap out of it and wake up.

“This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real…” you whisper the mantra over and over in hopes that this will work.

Instead, you hear that sinister chuckle you have gotten quite familiar with. Your palms begin to sweat and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“You would be such a good little housewife sweetheart, why don’t you come on in and show me.”

His tone is anything but inviting and even though you can’t see him, you can definitely feel him. It’s as if he’s talking to you through your mind and the way your body reacts is by his doing.

“Please…just stop this,” you beg and snap your eyes shut tightly while dropping your head down.

“You’re right, a little housewife doesn’t entirely suit you, does it? You know what I think the perfect fit is?”

You don’t give into his daunting torment and malice as you keep your head hung low.

“Being my pretty. Obedient. Puppet.”

Your head abruptly yanks straight up, as if a string is attached and pulling it. Your forearms do the same, and your legs begin to shakily move, one foot in front of the other. He’s forcing you to walk into the house.

Sobbing, you scream for him to stop or show you any kind of mercy. The tears run rapidly down your flushed, red cheeks. Your body comes to a halt as it approaches the front door. One more step and you would be inside.

You cannot see a thing. It’s like staring into complete and utter darkness, which makes you all the more terrified.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” you cry out wherever he is. “Please!” Your cries and pleads are music to his ears, but that’s the only defense you have.

“You want to know what I want?” He asks, but this time, his voice isn’t in your head, but instead you can feel the coolness of his breath as if he’s talking directly in front of you.

You can’t fully see him, but if you squint you can just see the outline of his silhouette.

“I want to hear you scream.”

A force pushes you into the void that’s inside your “house” and you wake up to the feeling like you do when you fall from a one hundred story building.

Your stomach lurches for a moment before your eyes snap open and you jolt awake. The window shows it’s still night time as the fall breeze makes the trees outside sway gently back and forth. Your pillow is soaked from the sweat that accumulated on your neck.

You sit up and tuck your knees into your chest, resting your head on top of them. It was only a dream. Just like all the others. But why do you still feel him, like he’s lingering in the darkness, just waiting to drag you back down to whatever that hell is with him?

……………….……………………………………………………………

“You okay sweetie? Those dark circles make you lookin’ like you're a part of the Addams family,” Tatum observes on your routine walk to school. “Starting your costume a little early?” She smirks as she nudges your shoulder with a playful bump.

You give her a joking eye roll. “Ha-ha, very funny.”

The two of you continue to walk in comfortable silence before you decide to finally bring up the topic of conversation you have been dreading.

“Hey, have you ever had the same kind of dream occur more than once?”

“No, can’t say that I have. Why, have you?” She quirks an eyebrow up and gives you a quizzical glance over.

“It’s just, I’ve been-“

You’re interrupted when Jason and Randy jump out of the bushes, scaring you and Tatum half to death. The shriek you let out was embarrassing, but if they only knew how you have been spending the last couple of nights, they would understand.

“You assholes!” Tatum giggles while running a hand through her hair. Randy walks backwards, facing the group while Jason wraps his arm around your shoulder. You aren’t dating, but he still attempts to flirt in hopes you change your mind.

“What’s the topic of the morning today ladies?” Randy asks with that usual look of mischief across his face. “How sexy Brad Mackenzie looks in his compression pants or the size of Ashley Donald’s ass?” He wiggles his eyebrows in amusement.

“Do you guys know much about the story of Eddie Munson?” You ask. There’s an awkward silence that lingers. Shit. Before you’re about to retract, Randy and Jason start laughing hysterically.

“Hawkins’ ultimate Boogeyman!” Randy bellows before continuing. “You’re telling me you’ve never heard the stories?”

“I mean I know the gist I guess, but c’mon, I’m sure some stuff is made up.”

Randy lets out a breathy chuckle. “I’ll tell you what isn’t made up. They found that babe Chrissy Cunningham mutilated. I’m talkin’ every limb snapped in half, blood seeping out of her eyeballs, and her face was completely distorted. When her mom had to identify the body, she was so fucking traumatized they had to send her to Pennhurst for a month.”

You shudder at the image, trying to erase it from your mind, which only makes it worse.

“Oh please, Chrissy was the girl who acted all sweet and innocent, but was secretly a huge slut. I think the rumours are true and she was fucking the freak,” Tatum adds while checking out her nails.

You grimace and flinch slightly at her very rude and insensitive words.

“It’s always the innocent ones,” Randy winks before hoisting Tatum up and carrying her over his shoulder. She begins to laugh as he runs with her down the sidewalk, leaving you and Jason in the dust.

“So what ever happened to him, Eddie?” You ask, gripping your books tightly to your chest.

“After that night, he disappeared and no one has seen him since. Apparently the townspeople rallied together to hunt him down, but it was unsuccessful.”

You hum in response, staring ahead at the school that’s slowly approaching into view.

“Legend says every year on Halloween he comes back to Hawkins to terrorize the town and take another girl’s soul just like he did that night.”

You stare up at him, a look of worry etched across your delicate features.

“Don’t worry Y/N, if you ask me it’s all a bunch of bull. It’s just some made up stories to scare kids and entertain the people in this boring ass town.”

Biting down on your bottom lip nervously, you ask, “Well what if it isn’t?”

His eyes flash with the slightest concern for just a second before he shrugs and displays a smug grin. “You got me here to protect you.”

You realized in that moment that one of two things are true. Either you are going absolutely mad or you are Eddie Munson’s next victim. And the most horrifying part is you couldn’t tell which one was worse.

…………………………………………………………………………….

Sitting in the dingy bathroom stall of Hawkins High was not exactly how you pictured you’d start your morning. Your knee was bouncing with anxiety as you tried to process everything over and over again in your head. What do you do? Who do you tell? How do you make it stop?

You hear someone come in and decide to pause the merry go round of thoughts that are starting to consume you. Right before you’re about to grab your book bag and head out, you crane your head a little lower and notice the bulky combat boots walking towards your stall. The heavy thump of the shoes and the clinking sound of a chain makes you get that feeling again. No, you thought to yourself. You’re not dreaming.

Whoever it is comes to a halt and stops right in front of your stall. You gulp, the nerves consuming your throat as your shaky hand reaches out to unlock the door.

You yank the door open in such haste that you jump at your own actions before taking a sigh of relief as you see who is before you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Piper,” you apologize with a smile, holding your hand over your heart as a means of comfort.

“Somebody’s jumpy today,” she remarks, which between that and her appearance makes you feel like something is off with her. You can’t put your finger on it, but her stare is vacant when usually she’s super animated. Her attire is on the edgier side too than the usual bright colors she always sports, and her hair is wavy today which it never is.

You give her a closed mouth smile as you begin to swing your bag over your shoulder. You try to politely move past her, but she doesn’t make it easy for you as she remains standing in the same spot, still nothing behind those big brown eyes. Odd. You could have sworn she had green eyes.

Once you slither past her, you’re almost to the door as you grab the handle, but what she says stops you in your tracks.

“It’s almost time,” she grins, but again, this is not her usual, warm smile. It in fact is creepy and quite unnerving.

“Almost time? Almost time for what?”

Your heart drops into your stomach as you wait for her answer.

“For Halloween of course,” She smirks like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but there’s still something about her tone that’s unsettling.

“Oh yeah….right. I uh- I better get going, I’m already 15 minutes late for Simmons’ class.”

“He’s coming for you,” she mutters close to a whisper. Your eyebrows furrow as you give her no response and instead run out of the door as fast as you can muster.

…………………………………………………………………………….

The encounter with Piper had you feeling immense paranoia the remainder of the day. The thought crossed your mind to just ditch the rest of today, but you were petrified to be home. Alone.

Usually you hated P.E., but given your current circumstances, it’s your favorite since it’s impossible to close your eyes and pass out.

Running the mile always resulted in you, Tatum, and your other girlfriends simply walking it. Coach Ann always blew the whistle at you all, yelling, “what do you think this is ladies? Book club? Get moving!”

Once you get back to the locker room, you decide to take a quick shower. Tatum wanted you to go to the mall with her after school and you didn’t want to feel sweaty and gross.

You’re happy that all the showers are empty. For some reason, being completely naked in front of the other girls always made you feel awkward.

Stripping off your green “Hawkins P.E.” T-shirt and shorts, you stuff them in your bag before unclasping your bra and doing the same. You quickly pull down your thong and throw that in as well before swiftly entering the shower.

You turn the nozzle to the hottest setting and the burn feels good on your tense muscles. Steam starts to fill the small space, but you don’t mind, it’s the most relaxed you’ve felt all day.

Releasing a deep sigh of relief, you close your eyes and position your face directly into the streaming downpour of water. Suddenly though, you get that feeling again, the slight shiver that shoots up your neck.

When you open your eyes, you're back in that place. You’re still in the shower in the girls locker room, but everything looks decayed and full of grime. Those same slimey, breathing vines are intertwined together along the wall and the color in the room has shifted to a tinge of blue.

In a haste, you yank the towel that’s draped over the rod and speedily wrap it around your body.

“No need to get all modest now sweetheart, I was quite enjoying the show.” Eddie’s voice echoes throughout the locker room.

The grip on your towel is so tight, you can feel the digging of your nails into your palms through the material.

“Fuck you,” you mutter, shocked at your own words that spilled from your lips.

“What filthy words from such a shy, inexperienced girl like yourself.”

He’s taunting you, and you have no idea how, but he knows you’ve never had sex with anyone yet and worse of all, it’s like he knows it’s one of your biggest insecurities.

You try to very quietly pad over to reach the lockers, each step leaving a wet footprint behind. Still gripping the towel tightly to your chest, you can feel the water dripping down your arms and legs.

“Saving yourself for true love,” he declares with a chuckle. “How adorable. But I can sense it. You’re just aching to be touched, aren’t you?”

The room is so eerily quiet that the only sounds you can hear are the small droplets of water coming out of the shower head with a soft plink. From the volume of his voice, you know he’s near.

“I bet you think about it… How do you want your first time to be? All soft and sweet? Because your little friend Jason…well…let’s just say his dreams about fucking you are quite…entertaining.”

Suddenly hearing his daunting footsteps as you see his shadow near the front row of lockers, you patter in a hurry down to the last row to hide. Your back is against the cool metal as you are tempted to take a peek to see around the corner.

“I wish you could see the way he pictures it… with you on your stomach…eyes rolled to the back of your head in pure bliss while he has his way with you. You’re biting down on your lip to suppress your soft, little moans, which makes him fuck you harder…faster…doesn’t that sound nice? Being fucked like a good little slut?”

“Go to hell!” Your voice is trembling and unsteady, but there’s no use of trying to be quiet anymore, he will find you one way or another.

His sinister chortle echos and you can hear his heavy boots stepping closer.

“Awh sweetheart, you didn’t notice? We’re already there.”

You no longer hear his approaching footsteps anymore. Your breathing is intense as you sneak a look to your right and peek around the corner. With a shaky breath you risk a glance, but you don’t see him.

That is, until he catches you off guard from your left and briskly pins you against the lockers.

This is the most face to face you have ever been with him out of all the dreams you’ve had. His eyes are so dark, they’re close to black. The red and purple veins around his eyes are translucent through his icy pale skin. As if this close contact isn’t horrifying enough, you spot them….his fangs.

The grip he has around your neck isn’t hard enough to choke you, but it’s tight enough to hold you in place. He takes a big inhale through his nose before his thirsty eyes bore into yours.

“Too bad Jason will never get to know what that sweet cunt of yours feels like because you belong to me.”

“Please,” you whimper, having a terrible time tearing away from his intense gaze.

“Please…” Eddie mocks with a sarcastic frown. “I think there’s nothing more I love than hearing you beg.

With the grip still on your neck, he takes his other hand to play and twirl with the long strands of your hair.

“You hear that?” He asks, tucking a tendril behind your ear. Your brows furrow before you realize what he’s referring to. It's the sounds of a clock ticking before the chime strikes in the most haunting way.

“It’s almost time,” he grins from ear to ear as you begin to cry. He swipes your tear away with his thumb, and as he brings it to his lips, you see it. It’s blood. You’re not crying tears, but blood.

“Mmmm,” his deep voice hums. “Just how I imagined you’d taste.”

“Leave me alone!” You shout before hearing his maniacal laughter echo through your head in a way that consumes your entire mind. The blood from your eyes is oozing out in streams down your face, dripping onto the floor. Your shrieks and cries are piercing before you’re being violently shaken awake.

“Y/N, wake up! Wake up! Jesus Christ, wake up!” Tatum is kneeling before you, the sound of the shower running is the first thing you hear. You're crouched in the corner, knees tucked to your chest while your hands cover your ears, like you were trying to block out the sound of Eddie’s hysteria.

“What the hell happened? Are you okay?” Tatum asks, well, more like shouts as she takes in your pathetic form. She turns the water off and grabs the towel before wrapping it around your shoulders.

“I’m fine, I-I felt light headed while I was taking a shower and decided to sit down for a minute and I must have passed out for a sec. I’m okay though,” you try to assure, shocked at the believable lie you were quick to muster up on the spot.

“C’mon, let’s get you dressed,” Taum grabs your bag and goes to hand you your undergarments first. She hands your bra over to you and has your skirt and blouse in one hand while the other is digging for something else.

“Did you go commando today?” Tatum asks.

“What? No?”

You grab your bag from her and search through it yourself to not find them in there. You distinctly remember having them on and taking them off right before…..

“Huh, that’s weird,” you utter, not even having a plausible excuse to tell her even though you know exactly who took them.

“Why don’t you let me take you to the doctor or something? Don't you want to make sure your head and everything is okay?”

“Tatum, I’m fine, I promise. I didn’t eat lunch today and the heat and the exercise on an empty stomach got to me.”

She’s not a hundred percent convinced, but she gives you a nod. “Okay. I’ll wait outside while you get changed.” She’s about to get up before your small voice stops her.

“Can you stay here with me while I get dressed?”

You know that she knows something is up, but she decides to not press or ask any more questions. She turns around, giving you some privacy as you begin to throw your clothes on rapidly. There’s nothing more you wanted than to get out of this locker room immediately.

Once you're out in the hallway, you turn to Tatum.

“You and Natalie go on to the mall without me, I’m going to go home and get some rest.”

“Okay, but you promise you’ll call me later?”

You give her a swift nod and a smile before parting ways. As soon as you see her turn the corner, you make a bee line for the library.

Dropping your belongings onto the floor, you plop into the swivel chair, and begin your research.

Like some sort of mad woman, you submerge yourself for almost an hour into every article and interview you can find regarding that fateful night in March of 1986. You almost give up on your search before you scroll down a bit more.

Dustin Henderson.

From what you put together, he was one of the few who was outspoken about Eddie being innocent, which in turn infuriated the town for obvious reasons.

You race to one of the shelves and grab the yearbook from ‘86, frantically turning the pages until you get to the “clubs” section. There, you see them, the infamous group called “The Hellfire Club.” Just based on the photo, it seems like a group of innocent, goofy boys. You ignore the vandalism on the page which accumulated over time. “Burn in hell” is sprawled above the photo, as well as a pentagram and there’s devil horns drawn on top of Eddie’s head.

Maybe if you can talk to this Dustin Henderson, he may have some answers that can help you. At this point, it’s your only hope. You couldn’t go to your family, your friends, or even the police without them thinking you're going clinically insane. A total stranger is your best option at this point.

Tucking the sheet of paper you printed at the library in your pocket, you begin your walk home. This is usually your favorite time of year. The crisp weather, the leaves, everyone’s homes decorated with jack-o’-lanterns and makeshift ghosts.

You pass by a group of little girls jumping rope, but you halt when you realize the nursery rhyme they are singing.

“1, 2 Eddie’s coming for you. Three, four, better lock your door..”

The clouds in the sky begin to darken as the wind drastically picks up, causing your hair to whip around wildly as the sound of thunder begins to rumble.

“Five, six, grab your crucifix…”

The horrifying image of him piercing through the flesh on your neck with his fangs intrudes your mind as if he’s planting the thought in there himself, making you see what he wants you to.

“Seven, eight, gonna stay up late. Nine, ten, never sleep again.”

He’s sitting on the porch swing, legs spread with one arm resting on the back of the swing. His smirk is wide as he shoots you a wink and a wave with the wiggle of his fingers. His fangs and mouth are covered with blood.

With Halloween approaching, you have little time to spare. Each day your dreams are starting to progress, and even worse, are starting to happen when you’re not even asleep. The hallucinations as well as Eddie’s power grow stronger and stronger within each passing second. You’re completely haunted by him night and day, and you can only hope that by the time you reach Dustin, it’s not too late.

[sid-sn]

My Darling Irene

my Irene headcanons below cuz someone asked <3

all interpretations of characters are my own and it’s not historical or canonical accurate, will change based on the future canon updates

contains certain explicit content so please see the tags, outlast itself is a warning tbh

According to the voicelines she’s drugged and hypnotized by her husband and most of the time is just a very obedient trad wife. But they also mentioned she would argue with Easterman and wants to leave him after discovering he’s been drugging her. So in my headcanon her mental state is very unstable, she’s drifting in and out of the drugs effects, she’s not entirely lost and is constantly fighting against the manipulation of her husband.

But as the time settings is in the 1960s so the general environment is pretty misogynistic. She’s confused about the social role of a woman that she often questions wether this abusive marriage is expected to be normal or she’s going insane. (That’s when Avellanos comes in and change her entire worldview with lesbians sex)

As for the self harm wounds that’s solely because Easterman loves to have power over ppl so he makes her harm herself under drugs or hypnosis. (according to his conversation with Wernicke I assume he’s repulsed at hetero sex, probably because of his own gender dysphoria. So yes that misogynistic freak gets off to her pain is hardly a surprise) Irene usually doesn’t remember the process, so she mistaken those are because of her own alcoholism and depression. She hates herself and those wounds, would use bandages to hide them.

I headcanon she comes from a decent wealthy family, provided her with enough sense of self and knowledge but not enough to let her see beyond the social gender discipline. She met Easterman and his brother Stanley in high school, their relationship is kind of like the langermanns and Jessica situation in O2. Stanley secretly had a crush on her but unfortunately Irene only views him as a friend back then, too blinded by the feigned maturity of Hendrick and her family probably favors Hendrick over Stanley’s soft and pessimistic personality anyway. Both of the brothers are not mentally stable as they both grow up in an abusive household, unlike Hendrick who is good at hiding his fucked up mentality Stanley is very aware of his inability to provide her with a healthy relationship, but still he cares for Irene deeply. She later developed some feelings for Stanley after she’s stuck in the terrible marriage.

But then again we know too little about the brothers, the whole Easterman family is a giant mess. To elaborate on my headcanons on Easterman’s family will take another wall of text so I will skip that here, but I’m also very interested in that topic.

Anyway we know what happened to Stanley next(actually we don’t) Irene is absolutely devastated, would often see him in her dreams and drugs induced hallucinations. Sometimes Stanley appears to her in an unspeakable way(my explanation for the uniform kink, that police line is irrelevant to me idc), she’s terrified of her own infidelity but it’s a comfort to her nonetheless. She’d see him appearing as a corpse sometimes but he’d never been scary to her. Everything about Stanley is a comfort compared to her reality.

Her feelings regarding her husband is mixed. Deep down she hates his guts but the environment around her is making it impossible for her to leave, so her mind would probably develop a self protect mechanism that’s build around the fond memories with him before marriage, which leads to her thinking she still loves her husband. Also the drugs and hypnosis aren’t helping.

In conclusion she’s not a blank trad wife character to me, and I don’t think that’s what red barrels wanted her to be either.

[unstablenoodle]

Just graduated, and I’ve been dragging myself by my hair through the last 4 years. here’s advice if you’re new to college:

Basic advice:

Make friends in your lectures. You will know some of those people all four years, and some of them are better at this than you. You’re still capable, but there’s always a bigger fish and you should make that fish into a study buddy

Get a job at a food court/ campus restaurant. You get a free meal, which might be your only one for the day if you don’t have a meal plan. Work can also be a mental break from academics.

Abuse office hours. Annoy your TA. make them scared to see you. TA’s are tired grad students and you won’t have a formal relationship with them: they are students too.

Study advice:

Flash cards are for review and rote learning only. 15-30 minute power review sessions for things you already know. If you’re going over familiar shit, do it in short, repetitive bursts.

Be the bitch with annoying decorative notes. Make it a game, it’ll force you to look at the material more. I will say though, make sure you decorate with purpose.

Those friends you made in lecture? That’s where you get the big studying done. If you’re going for a higher 4 hour long study sesh, bring other people. They know things you don’t and vice versa, so you can fill in the gaps for each other. This type of studying is for unfamiliar or confusing material.

Big study sessions usually only happen a couple weeks out from exams at most. Before exams, your homework is your main means of studying.

Just go to the lecture. I don’t care if it’s at 7:30 am, go. Participation points could be the difference between a B and a C.

TI-84 graphing calculator

Pub chem

If a professor, for some ungodly reason, says you aren’t allowed to work on the homework with other people, fuck that guy.

Your $168.99 textbook is likely a free PDF online.

Date someone who fills in your gaps. I dated an engineer I met in a physics class and it worked beautifully.

Mental health (my advice on this is very specific):

Basic advice: drink water regularly, eat vegetables, exercise. You know all this.

Stay far, far away from any substance called a “study buddy” or something like that

Get a hobby. Actually. Something to do in your free time to keep you from going insane. I personally like knitting and drawing, but it can be anything. I’d say avoid something involving technology because it’s easy to fall into that for hours at a time. Do something that engages your hands and your brain. You might not be creative, but creativity is good for you. Your painting looks like shit? The benefits you have reaped from its creation are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Good job.

If you are having any kind of hallucination (visual, auditory, presence, etc.), seek professional help immediately. I have lived half my life with the feeling of eyes on me and the presence of people who aren’t actually there and never tried to fix it because I could “work around it.” Just go get help. Hallucinations can also be a symptom of neurological issues and physical illness.

OCD and disorders involving psychosis are aggravated by stress. Your classes will stress you out. Disorders like this are scary and debilitating, so you absolutely need to be in therapy, possibly on medication. They also tend to be episodic, so you may have periods of recovery where your life quality improves. Do NOT be fooled: you still need to be in therapy even if you feel good. Preventative measures are the best measures!!

Social:

Get a job. Work friends are funnier and way more entertaining than any other kind of friend

I recommend a group of 2-4 people you chill with regularly. Movie night with them once a week (barring exam weeks and extenuating circumstances)

Talk with your roommates at least occasionally. It’s no fun living with total strangers.

Do not start smoking cigarettes. A lot of people are repulsed by the smell and it clings to you.

Hygiene. Mainly you should smell good. You don’t have to go crazy with an expensive perfume/ cologne, but shower and always have a decent scent. Also try not to wear stained clothes.

Not sure how useful this is, but it’s the first thing I could think of. I’ll come back and edit if I think of more.

[mychapel-004]

i am about to ramble like a crazy person abt the fnaf movie so scroll if u don’t like spoilers

was not expecting all the love on my last post so i will keep posting thoughts abt the movie

another thing that rlly interested me in the movie was the focus on images, how humans process things through what we see rather than context, and how this sets up the fnaf movie trilogy to focus on fnaf 4 in the next movies.

the most obvious example is abby, we’re explicitly told that children communicate and understand things through pictures, which mike sorta shrugs off until he starts seeing the bigger picture. this then applies to the animatronics when he learns that they are also children and incredibly influenced by the drawings in their environment. the restaurant in the movie is very much a living thing of its own, the way it thrums to life when abby enters, and the animatronics know the truth of the drawing the second it is pinned up, and the animatronics are an extension of that.

a less obvious example is mike. even though he shrugs off abby’s teacher, and the point she makes about him being at the centre of all her pictures, he is much the same. it isn’t just children who are influenced by images. he has been returning to the same image every night for we don’t even know how long, the same picture of the nebraskan trees, the same perfect family picture he describes to vanessa, the same image of his brother looking at him out of the car window. everything he does is a result of this image. he is wholly consumed by it, believes he can somehow change the picture and see the truth beneath it if he just tries hard enough.

the ghost children, specifically golden freddy, change the image for him in an attempt to placate him into giving them abby, but no matter if he dreams of a happy family, it wont change the truth of what happened. just like how pasting a picture of five children happily holding hands with a golden bunny won’t change the truth underneath. images are fallible, they don’t tell the truth and we cannot trust our brains.

firstly i think this is a really fun direction to take in context to how the movie humanises the animatronics. fnaf 1 is a game made entirely of scary, still images of the animatronics, save for the jumpscares and foxy’s run. the lore is sparse and entirely given through exposition (if i hear one more person complain abt vanny only being there for exposition and not phone guy’s two minute loredump at the start of every night in the game i will lose it), and we know nothing other than that our death is imminent.

but the truth is that these animatronics are kids. they’re scared and lost and confused and cannot understand what has happened. underneath bonnie in the west hallway camera and freddy staring at you from the showtime room are terrified kids doing what they feel they have to. the movie was incredibly dedicated to showing that these kids still want to build pillow forts and sing to music and tickle their friends and be a family and i think it was a great choice.

i think all this focus on images is definitely a perfect lead into fnaf 4 (im not 100% on my book lore but i believe there are three books that cover fnaf 1, fnaf 4 and then sister location??) especially with the recent lore update that all of fnaf 4 is hallucinations. we don’t need a lore explanation of how the nightmares could be real because… they aren’t. following the game timeline, fnaf 4 would have already happened by now but we could easily see a return to it through mike, especially if the schmidt-emily or schmidt-afton theories are true and mike could have been the child in fnaf 4 but surpressed his memories. firstly we have a protagonist who is already on sleeping medication and has dreams that can be easily manipulated. this is a perfect setup for the nightmare animatronics to start making themselves known.

i also think that fnaf 1 was intentionally visually tame. the themes of the movie are actually very dark, they don’t shy away from the truth of the bodies being hidden in the suits, the animatronics Very Brutally kill the burglars, max is literally bitten in half and her body is hidden away, but the on-screen gore keeps it pg. this 100% allows them to experiment further with the levels of gore, tension and violence if they do fnaf 4, because quite frankly some of the nightmares are horrifying.

TLDR this movie sets up a million directions and theories that the next one could go in, and theres nothing the fnaf fandom loves more than vague lore and theory crafting

vanny post next bc i have Thoughts

[ladyelissarose]

‘We Go Down Together’

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x female ‘hostage’ reader

Nickname per say: Wolf

Summary; When Ghost is caught and held hostage, he meets a new friend, who’s been held hostage there too for much longer. But Simon who has the hopes of getting out, runs into her who has lost it all. 

Warnings; might make you cry, angst, then some fluff, mentions of torture and a few dark things.. but yup, be prepared ;) enjoy.

“Well... sense you don’t seem to give up.. maybe we can make you comfortable here... along with Wolf... take turns playing with you two and see who breaks first...”

Those were the last words Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley heard from his captors before he was thrown into the darkest place he had ever encountered. If he thought the casket he was buried in was dark and lonely... this felt much worse, for it was knowingly much larger... meaning more demons could fit inside. The demons were what scared Simon the most, their haunting voices, promising torture and pain till no end, their lingering around him, which was so unseen yet profoundly felt. When thrown in, instinctively he stretched his hands out to feel for walls, and when he found one he followed it until he found a corner, and there he settled himself. Hoping the darkness of that particular corner consumed him or kept him well hidden for now, until they pulled him out again to do what they could to get him to talk. The room was so dark he couldn’t even see his hands in front of him, so instead he kept his eyes shut, so he wouldn’t try to look for something that wasn’t really there. Simon tried to get his mind off of it, but ever sense the first day he arrived, the presence of another in that room made chills go up his spine, and his mind wonder,

 ‘Is there really someone in here? Or am I hallucinating again?’

There would be times he’d hear the door slam open and the sound of someone else being dragged out, theirs cries were the sound of a wailing woman, but he could never see them. And once they were out, he’d feel extremely lonely, he had even cried for them, wishing for their presence to be there again, for it never felt scary or uncomfortable, it felt peaceful and comforting. Once they’d return he’d feel rough hands grab him and drag him out next, he’d try to fight them off, but never succeeded. The cycle repeated when it came to them trying to get words out of the both of them, which they never received. Simon would grow furious when he’d hear them hurting you, feel your pain in the sound of your desperate pleas and screams, and he’d tear up when he could make out what were your silent cries or whimpers once you were back inside. Soon he would hear your soft breaths when you had fallen asleep, and that’s what he used as leverage to calmly fall asleep too. When Simon would be thrown back into the dark room, he had already memorized the steps towards his corner, but they usually didn’t feel so heavy or sad, when he could feel the presence of his unseen and unheard friend. All he knew, was that they called them, ‘Wolf’. Today though, Wolf’s cries sounded much louder and deep, and ever sense you came back, your soft breaths hadn’t been heard yet, you were oddly enough still up. And Simon refused to sleep until he heard you pass out first.

‘Why aren’t you sleeping yet? Did they really tear into you this time?-‘

“Sometimes we fly, sometimes we fall

Sometimes I feel like we're nothing at all..”

‘Oh?... was that- real?’

“Dream in the light, dance in the dark

You fill the spaces inside of my heart, mm mm..”

Simon’s ears perked at the sound of the most beautiful and angelical voice he had ever heard. It sang into the darkness, the echo of the empty metal room allowed it to flow like a peaceful river. Sitting up and cowering less, Simon awaited for it to continue, now hungry for more as it seemed to have calmed his hurting heart and desperate soul. He was too worried to call out or ask for it, not wanting it to stop or scare it away at the sound of his broken, torn voice. 

“Mm, woo ooh, ooh ooh

Hm hm...”

‘Is that why they called you Wolf? They hear your voice and say you’re howling in the dark... please go on..’

Wolf, that was your new given name.. as each night before your new friend arrived, you sang your fears away, hoping your voice sounded angelic enough to keep the demons away. You had been captured months ago, after a mission went wrong with your team and instead of being able to get away, your team used you as bait so they could run first. So you knew sense the start that they’d probably never come to get you back, and it was proven right when you found out that it had been 6 months sense your capture. They did everything in their power to get information out of you... but you never gave in... so they tortured you with darkness, hiding you from the sun and it’s gift of light. When you were once a Sunshine to many, brightening up the world with a smile or cheering it up with a simple word, you were now a Wolf.. crying in the night.. hoping to call out the moonlight, maybe the light of the sun could spare you that. But no.. you hadn’t seen it yet. Tonight for some reason your friends cries had been much louder, it tore you piece into piece at the sound of it, anger boiling as you wished that they’d hurt you instead. Soon it stopped, and a loud crash came through the door. In the distance you could hear heavy breathing, a few sniffles here and there, even a choked sob. You thought that maybe singing, would calm his heart... and silence his cries that made you ache with sorrow. Lately he had been your reason to go on, feeling his presence there or hearing his soft snores when he’d knock out due to the pain, was enough to stay strong. You had never spoken or seen this man, but he was hurting as much as you, and you’d do anything to help or take it away.

But after today’s unfortunate session you felt more tired and in excruciating pain, exhaustion taking over a lot of you, scaring you. You felt like shutting down completely, but decided to keep strong. So you eased your mind, cleared your throat, and you sang one of your saddest melodies, summing up your life... not knowing what else you could do. Not realizing that your words were hitting straight to their core as you continued,

“Am I really mine? are you really yours

If all your emotions cut straight to my core..”

Simon clutched himself together as he wiped a stray tear away, feeling the depth of their voice, the emotion hidden deep in the words spoke louder than anything. He held in a sob as he listened on,

“Times when you cry, I feel it all

Whenever you leave me, I wait for your call

You are everything I'm living for.”

You felt the stone in your throat beginning to grow, at the thought of never being able leave, or seeing the sun again.

“If you go down, then we go down together

If you hold on, I might just stay forever If you get hurt, I'll try to make it better

If you go down, then we go down together...”

‘Do we really? Would you?’

Simon thought this as he began to feel inclined to guide himself through the darkness, towards your voice. To see- well.. more likely to feel if you were indeed there, or just another voice in his head. His hand trembled in fear and anticipation, of what awaited for him in the shadows. But he stopped when you went on, with a slight tremble to your voice,

‘she’s crying..’

“S-Sometimes we're right, sometimes we're wrong

Sometimes the l-line has just never been drawn..

Nights when we fi-fight, we strike the chord..

And t-then we for-forget what we've... what we’ve been fighting for-r...”

Soft sobs then filled the room, when you finally broke, unable to go on with the song. The pain was getting too much worse for you and you could feel little bits of yourself let go, like a loss feeling. Simon felt his whole chest shake with agony when he heard for the first time, your cries. It definitely sounded like a Wolf.. a mother Wolf crying for her loss, or her pups.. feeling absolutely lonely and torn. He could hear how hopeless you were, it was cry when you knew it was over, or never going to start again. 

 ‘It can’t be over... my team is definitely coming for me soon.. they have too... I hope they do.’

“Lay on the floor.. sleep in your arms

Pausing the world to stay right where we are

Close all the bliiiinds... lock all the doors

Things fall apart and I'm wanting you more

You are everything I'm living for...”

There you went at it again, refusing to lean towards what felt like defeat and an ending.. though you mostly believe you were headed that way. 

‘You are everything I'm living for..’

 Simon trusted his gut and knew he lived for you too, especially now that he heard your voice, which became like an instant drug to him, he now needed you, to feel you- hopefully see you one day. Simon got on his knees and began to crawl, towards your voice again, willing to get as close as possible, and be at grace’s mercy in order to get a simple touch of you. You let your legs extended out, so they wouldn’t cramp as you took a deep breath, and were able to go on, until you felt the softest brush if fingers touch your bare leg. You gasped in fear and jumped back, not recognizing the soft touch, after suffering through so many other ways of touch. You found your hand resting over the part that was barely grazed by love, burning like a severe after affect. But it soon turned warm... then cold again.

 ‘Touch me again... please..’

Simon felt a spark when he felt soft skin against his fingers, but as quick as he touched it, it left. His heart sank, but now wouldn’t live without another second without it, so he called out shyly, and in a whisper,

“where’d you go?”

A few beats of silence passed.. Simon grew worried it was fake.. until he heard a soft reply back,

“i’m right here- *cough*... sorry I backed off..”

‘Oh God.. fuck- this is real!’

“it’s ok.. sorry if I scared you-“

You didn’t want to hear him say ‘sorry’ for anything, especially after everything he has been through, so you right away countered with,

“oh no! it’s fine.... really.”

“oh.. ok.”

You could hear his cute little British accent, and wondered how it sounded in its louder and clearer version, but thought that probably he wasn’t ready to go that high or far yet.. so you stuck with whispering,

“how long have- *cough cough* you b-been here?”

Simon winced at your thick coughing, it sounded awful and letting him know you were very hurt and most likely sick too,

“about a couple of months... I’m hoping me team finds us soon.”

“team? you’re team is coming for you-“

“us now.. I’m not leaving you behind-“

“but you *cough cough* ugh... you don’t know me-“

“doesn’t matter.. I’d want you free anyways.”

“really?”

“yeah..”

‘of course I’d want you free... if I get out.. we get out together.’

Simon could hear you grunt a bit like if you were in pain, which perhaps you were, he was about to ask you if you’d be alright but you spoke up first,

“can.. can you find me again.. I can’t mo-move.”

“of course.. just stay still and trust me.. I won’t hurt you.”

“ok.”

Simon felt for the cold cemented floor and began to slide his hands up, away from him, trying to feel for you. But it didn’t matter how far he went, it was like if you were never there.

‘No.. no no where did you go!?-‘

“If you go down, then we go down together

If you hold o-on, I might just st-stay forever

If you get hurt... I’ll... I'll try to make it better 

If you go down, th-then we go down together, ah! ughh...”

‘Oh.. ok ok.. follow her voice.. I’m getting close-‘

“Oh! Ha! Is that you?”

“ye-yeah! it’s me..”

Simon trailed his hand on a cool, soft surface, and before he knew it, an inviting hand intertwined their fingers with his, bringing him close. He then heard a sniffle and weak words come out,

“I wish I could see you..”

“oh darling I don’t think you’d want too... but I wish I could see you.”

You grazed your hands over what you could feel were his arms, they felt bulky and very warm, compared to yours. You clung onto them and whimpered,

“can you hold me? I know it’s a lot but I’m cold-“

“shh shh.. I got you, you feel my arms-“

“yeah yeah.. wrap them around me- like that!”

“I know.. I got you sweet girl.. I got you.”

‘Damnit she’s freezing! Oh please stay strong little one.. I got you.. helps coming soon!’

Simon laid your head on his chest and had you sitting in his lap, off the cold floor so you wouldn’t freeze more. He could feel your body trembling and hear the tiny whimpers let out when the pain got too much for you. He even started to notice your change in breathing, it grew slower and slower. His heart panicked for you as he called out while shaking you a bit,

“hey hey! Stay up.. please.”

“but.. but I can’t-“

“Yes you can.. yes you can- come on. Sing for me..”

You barely shook your head and hid it deeper into his chest while you clutched his arms,

“It’ll sound terri-terrible-“

“It doesn’t matter... I’ll help you. Hm?”

‘What’s the point.. we’ll both die anyways... just let me go first.. then you can follow me-‘

“Come on.. I want to hear you.. I need to hear you-“

“I’m never getting out-“

“Yes you are.. yes we are-“

“I’ve been here to long- no one will remember me-“

“I now know you. I know you and won’t ever forget you... now let me hear your voice. Please, trust me.”

You let out a choked sob when you realized that you had lost all hope, and how he still had some. You didn’t want to suck up all his hope and turn it into faithlessness, so you gave in, and sucked it up. Closing your eyes you leaned into him and began once again,

“If you go down, then we go down together

If you hold on, I might just stay forever

If you get hurt, I'll try to make it better

If you go down, then we go down together...”

BAM BAM BAM!! 

Simon felt your body jolt in fear when all the shots were heard from afar off, but he clearly heard Soap’s and Price’s voices shouting out too, and his weary heart just about leaped with joy and relief.

‘It’s them!! They’re here!!’

“Love! Help has arrived! Love? Oh shit!”

In shock Simon realized you had passed out and grew unconscious, which urged him to cry out in desperation,

 “AY!! I’M IN HERE!!-“

“SIMON!! STAY BACK!!”

BOOM!!!

The door went flying off but Simon kept you safe and secure in his arms, afraid that more damage may dare come and touch you again. Bright lights burned his eyes as it was shining everywhere, he squinted and was able to catch a familiar figure coming towards him, making him smile beneath his mask,

“Johnny?”

“Simon, Hold- oh.. who’s this?”

Like a guardian over you, Simon instantly pulled his arms tighter around you, and with Soap’s help he stood up to his intimidating height and put forth while carrying you bridal style,

“She’s mine.. I’ll take care of her. Let’s get out of here.”

Soap looked curious and doubtful as he had never seen Simon this way- with people.. strangers. But with the way Simon looked down at your face that he could now see, he was definitely never going to let you go, you were far too precious and golden to just you let slip away. You mere presence kept him alive, imagine now that he could have all of you? Feel and really see all of you?

Few days later..

Tears of happiness and relief fell from his eyes and soaked his balaclava as he witnessed you wake up to full consciousness at the hospital at base. He don’t want to scare you as you began to flutter your eyes open, so he quickly pulled off his mask, ready for you to see who he really was. (Mind you it had taken him days to go over how this was going to happen, as he waited patiently and presently for you to wake up.) 

 You felt like garbage or like a truck had hit you, but it was quickly forgotten when you heard a familiar voice call out to you sweetly,

“Love?”

‘I remember that voice- oh.. oh wow.’

The most beautiful face sat in front of you, with watery eyes and the poutiest lips, holding his hand out to you for you to receive, which you did. Like the first time you intertwined your fingers with his, it all felt so surreal once again, and like home. You couldn’t help but admire his beauty as you praised,

“You’re beautiful.”

“not more than you... you’re a beauty.”

“ohh sweetheart... says the sculpted God himself.. I’m honored to be called a beauty by a masterpiece..”

Simon blushed so hard he felt his cheeks burn, but he nonetheless was honest with you as he replied,

“You’ll be the only one to see me besides my boss... I always where this... for protection.”

He then regretfully lifted up his balaclava to show you, you eyes gleamed at the interesting product he used as cover-up. But he didn’t need further explaining as you were understanding enough to know why he did it. His scars told enough for you, but you loved them already. You then remembered his words... as his eyes bore into your lovingly, it only made you tear up as you realized,

“You got me out.. you got us out.”

He nodded and came closer to plant a sweet, soft kiss on your cheek then head, he locked his eyes on yours as he leaned his forehead against yours. 

“We got out.. together.”

“Together?”

“Together.”

“... together... what’s your name?”

He sent you the softest smile before replying,

“Simon.. it’s Simon Riley, love... you?”

You bit your lip nervously, as you didn’t recall your name, after all the brainwashing they did. 

“They only called me Wolf... that’s it.”

 Simon caught your frown and thought,

‘She doesn’t remember... I got her.’

“It’s alright.. I underhand.. hmm-“

“I like it when you call me ‘love’... has a nice ring to it.. everyone else can call me Wolf. It’ll remind me of where I came from, and what I can overcome... and who I came out with.”

Simon’s heart almost pitter-pattered into an explosion, hearing your sweet and honest words.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright then, love. It’s settled then... you’re never leaving my side.”

“We’ll stick together?”

A soft kiss met the corner of your lips as he promised,

“Yes love.. Together.”

[gaylordscooter]

Don't Bring a Papyrus to the Castle are you Insane

It's been awhile since Nightmare’s tormented them. This was, of course, a good thing. Supposedly.

It could mean that he's been planning something during the time of inactivity. It put Horror on edge. He's always been the most paranoid, even with the tough competition.

The main difference between Horror and the other two was that they would roll with the punches. Horror wanted to be prepared, which was a problem, because he ended up driving himself insane trying to figure out what Nightmare could possibly be planning.

In all honesty, Nightmare was slacking in his latest attempts to boost the negativity in the air. The last thing he did was play a bunch of scary movies and then pretended to be like the monsters in said scary movies when it was time to sleep. He did not account for them blowing him up when he acted like the Thing.

It was ever since they started working together. That's when Nightmare started losing his edge.

No one was going to mention it, but it was almost kind of…fun? Living at the castle. The alternative for Killer and Dust was an empty world with nothing else to do except think about how horrible they are. As for Horror—well, he at least had a stable source of food. For the most part, they were never actively put in danger. Almost everything Nightmare did was simulated, albeit simulated situations of terror cultivated for them. They also had comfortable shelter with their own rooms and all.

At first, the three hated each other. They still kinda do, but working together lessened it a tad…maybe more than that, but again, no one was going to mention it.

“what if he gives up and kicks us out? or what if he just kills us?” Horror guessed as he paced around the so-called “living room” which was really just the great hall of the castle but none of them called it that. “he keeps us around for our negativity, we know that much, so what happens once he can't get the amount he wants from us anymore?”

“he wouldn't kick us out,” Killer said dismissively. He was leaning back on one of the chairs, propping his legs up against one of the many very long tables in the room. “i think he’s gotten attached to us. that's why he hasn't been doing anything.”

Dust, who was sitting next to him, scoffed at the notion.

“what? you think i’m wrong?” he questioned.

“i doubt he cares about us,” Horror muttered.

“atatata, i said attached. big difference,” Killer said. “we're like toys to him, toys that a little child doesn't want to let go. children don't go out of their way to toss their toys out.”

“i don't think you can equate him to a child,” Horror retorted.

Killer cocked his head. “really? ‘cus he sure acts like one sometimes.”

The doors to the living room swung open and a familiar darkness filled the air, but instead of Nightmare entering the room—it was Papyrus instead.

Killer fell backwards, the chair clattering against the floor, while Dust turned away while clutching his hood. Only Horror was able to look him in the eye.

“WOWIE! THREE OF MY BROTHER?” Papyrus quickly looked over the room, narrowing his eyes and stroking his chin, as if looking for something. “IT IS A LOT CLEANER HERE THAN I EXPECTED! CERTAINLY YOU THREE AREN’T DOING ANY CLEANING.”

Killer remained on the floor. He brought his hands up to his face. “this is a sick joke. this is a sick joke. tell me i’m hallucinating. is this a bad trip?”

“this is real, bud,” Horror answered.

Killer groaned.

Horror glanced at Dust and back to Killer again. Clearly, neither of them were equipped to handle this. He sighed, “i’ll talk to papyrus and tell ‘m to leave you two alone.” He walked over to Papyrus, which took a minute with how huge the hall was. He internally grimaced as he saw Papyrus's expression flicker to worry when he noticed his injury. “hey…bro. don’t mind the gaping hole in my head, i forgot to wear a helmet, y’know how it is.” Despite being such a long time since he’s talked to Papyrus, he was able to slip right back into old habits. Such as lying to him.

“I SEE…” Papyrus looked tempted to CHECK him, but decided against it to Horror’s relief. He peered behind Horror to get a good look at Killer and Dust.

The two of them simultaneously turned even more away from Papyrus’s gaze as if it’d turn them to stone.

“don't mind the other me’s, they're—uh a bit…different?”

“YES, YES, ALTERNATE VERSIONS I AM WELL AWARE OF THAT,” he declared proudly like he studied for this.

Horror blinked, not expecting that. How much does he know? He asked himself. He was scared to know the answer. He choked down his mess of emotions to keep a neutral face. “right…uh, yeah. it would be best if you left ‘em alone. they might explode or something if you approach them.” That might not even be hyperbole with how those two were reacting.

“VERY WELL! NOT EVERYONE CAN HANDLE THE GREAT PAPYRUS’S OVERPOWERINGLY POWERFUL PRESENCE.” Even though the “everyone” he was referring to were copies of his own brother.

“yep…you're just too cool for ‘em.” This was very quickly steering into an awkward direction. Scratch that, it was already awkward. He was talking to a younger version of his brother before he manipulated him to eat human flesh. As far as he knew, this Papyrus would never have to go through what he had. And that's not to mention the two brother killers in the same room as them. He could only guess how stressed those two were.

Nightmare was probably reveling in it. Asshole.

Papyrus sighed uncharacteristically. It wasn't his dramatic sigh that was for the sake of gaining attention. He was troubled. “Are we doing the thing where we pretend everything’s fine and dandy despite everything telling us otherwise?”

Horror choked on the spit in his throat that wasn't there. “i—uhhh.” He darted his eyes to the side, suddenly the wall to the right was very intriguing and he would much rather look there.

“There's a GAPING HOLE in your skull and I don't even WANT to ask where that eye came from!” Papyrus exclaimed while throwing his arms out. He gestured to his torn shirt with blood old stains right at the edges. “I just know THAT’S not ketchup stains. Sans, how dense do you think I am?”

“i—”

“Actually, don't answer that. I already have a hunch.”

Horror hung his head in shame. “‘m sorry,” he mumbled.

Papyrus's expression softened. He knelt down to Horror’s level to look him in the eye and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not mad…I’m just worried. You always hide stuff from me and it hurts you!” He was very clearly looking at the hole in his head. “You hid what happened from your brother didn't you?”

Horror flinched. “yeah. yeah, i did.”

Then, to Horror’s surprise, Papyrus brought him into a hug.

Silently, he brought up his arms to return the hug.

Dust and Killer dared to turn around to see the display. Only to quickly look away once more when Papyrus looked at them with a warm grin.

The silent hug ended and Papyrus stood at full height once more.

“how much do you know?” Horror asked.

“WELL!” Papyrus started, already returning to his cheery and boisterous demeanor. “THE GOOPY THING SURE SHARED WAY TOO MUCH PERSONAL INFORMATION ABOUT YOU THREE. IT WAS PRETTY RUDE, HONESTLY, SO I DIDN’T WANT TO BRING IT UP UNLESS YOU DID.”

Killer and Dust couldn't avoid looking at him now.

“EVERYTHING. I KNOW EVERYTHING THERE IS TO KNOW,” he clarified.

Killer reached a shaky hand up to grip Dust’s jacket from the ground, perhaps looking for comfort, or because if he didn't hold onto something he would dust right then and there.

Dust grabbed his wrist in turn, gripping it way too tight.

Papyrus narrowed his eyes at them. “YOU’RE GOING TO KILL ME AND YOU CAN’T EVEN FACE ME HEAD-ON ABOUT IT?!”

Killer blinked. That wasn’t a pun, was it? No, of course it wasn’t.

“DON’T GET A-HEAD OF YOURSELVES, I’M NOT MAD. NO NEED TO DIVE HEAD FIRST INTO SUCH ASSUMPTIONS.”

It most certainly was a pun. Killer tried to suppress a chuckle, but he failed. It was like a dam broke as he bursted out in hysterical laughter, rolling around on the ground.

Dust looked down at him in shock and let go of his wrist.

“papyrus, you—you can't just do that to us!” he cried between laughs. “i can't breathe!”

Papyrus smirked. “YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! WHAT? ARE YOU GOING TO KILL ME IF I DO?”

“papyrus, please.” Killer gasped desperately for air.

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT. THAT’S ENOUGH MACABRE JOKES ABOUT MY OWN DEATH FOR NOW. I DON’T WANT YOU TO DIE FROM LAUGHING, I’M NOT HERE FOR REVENGE.”

Now it was Dust’s turn to laugh, except it was silent and he was banging his fist against the table trying to keep it that way.

Papyrus looked pleased with himself.

Horror couldn't help but smile genuinely. Leave it to Papyrus to make him laugh no matter the situation.

“NYEH HEH HEH! AS ALWAYS, YOU CANNOT STAY GLUM IN MY PRESENCE FOR LONG!!”

Of course now was the time Nightmare decided to enter the room—or make his presence known. For all they know he could’ve been here the entire time, just hidden.

Killer immediately got up from the floor while Dust regained his composure.

He approached Papyrus and Horror, using his tentacles to lift himself up and tower over the two.

“No. No, you're not supposed to be happy,” Nightmare said in disbelief. His single eye was cracked wide open with utter contempt. The air around him was suffocating. “You're not supposed to just forgive them.” Tentacles stretched out and pointed at the three Sanses as if threatening to impale them. “They all betrayed you.”

He flicked a tentacle at Dust and Killer in particular, “They KILLED you! Multiple times! Even when you begged them to stop!” He was screaming, but it didn't have a threatening edge to it, despite his anger.

He turned his attention to Horror, leering down at him with his eye going slit. “And you. You think you're better than those two just because you didn't actively kill all those people, but you're not. You doomed everyone. You manipulated your brother into eating human flesh. He didn't want that.” His gaze finally landed back on Papyrus. “How could you forgive them?”

Underneath that anger he sounded…wounded.

Papyrus answered him without hesitation, “They must've had a good reason.”

Nightmare flinched back like he was hit. His tentacles retracted and curled against his body. His aura grabbed at their souls with an unbearable pressure. “You choose to believe in them, despite everything? Even though they harmed you in ways brothers should never?!” he roared.

“I will never stop believing them!” Papyrus declared. Those weren't empty words, he knew that.

Something in Nightmare snapped. He couldn't bear to stomach Papyrus’s unfaltering belief any longer. He opened a portal to the Papyrus’s universe but when he tried to grab him to toss him through his touch instantly encased him in ice. He didn't even process it as he made the motion to toss him into the portal anyway.

Once the portal closed he saw the three Sanses on the floor, struggling against his aura. They’ve never had that problem before, usually they could withstand it when his aura leaked through.

He finally registered the flecks of ice on his hand. He was revolted, he's only used that kind of magic once before and he made an effort to never let it happen again. When did that happen?

How did that happen?

He froze that Papyrus, he realized.

He never meant to—

He didn't even want to—

…He wasn't keeping track of his aura. He wasn't keeping it in check. He was killing them. He wrestled with his magic trying to force it back to normal. It was so much harder than usual.

What was happening? He was losing control. He couldn't lose control. That wasn't something he was allowed to—

Ah.

There was a knife impaling him, in one of his tentacles.

Killer glared at him with fury he’s never seen or felt from him before. For once, he had eyelights in those usually lifeless sockets and they were piercing through him just like his knife. He didn't hesitate to draw the knife back to drive it back in again over and over, it wasn't until Horror grabbed him from behind to drag him away from Nightmare.

“you just saw him freeze papyrus with a single touch and you're gonna get closer?” Horror said.

Killer struggled against his hold, swinging his knife and trying to reach Nightmare in vain. “i don't give a shit!”

The sound of a blaster rang out. It was aimed right at Nightmare’s head.

“dust, don’t,” Horror warned in vain.

Dust shot him a look of malice.

The blaster fired anyway, hitting Nightmare square on the forehead. He let out a horrific screech and a tentacle reflexively struck at Dust. Luckily, it only pierced the floor in front of him.

“you think you're real funny, huh?! bringing in a papyrus and trying to turn him against us? go on and have a tantrum because shit isn't going your way! when will you learn that we're not your fucking toys, asshole?!” Killer barked and wrenched himself free from Horror's grip. Thankfully, he didn't bother to get closer to Nightmare again.

Nightmare shrieked inhumanly in response. He frantically glanced between the three, bracing for another attack that never came.

“i remember when i thought you were terrifying! but you're just so immature. you just gonna scream your lungs out instead of talking?” he taunted.

A tentacle shot forward at Killer's head. He didn't even flinch as it halted an inch away from his nose.

The look in Nightmare's eye was rabid. He only had a speck of self control left. It took every resemblance of logic in him left to refrain from killing the three of them right then and there. He wanted to. Oh how he really wanted to.

A small voice told him he would regret that.

He tore his eye away from the three, turning around to open a portal. He had to leave, now.

He went through and it snapped shut, and the three were free of his presence.

They let out a breath they didn't know they were holding. It was easier to breathe now, too, without Nightmare’s aura choking them to death.

Killer sighed and put his hands in his pockets, letting his shoulders slump. “‘m going to my room.” He walked off towards the end of the hall.

“killer, wait,” Horror said.

He paused mid-step, sighing. “what?”

“i’m not just gonna let you board yourself up in your room.” He turned to Dust. “none of us should be alone right now.”

Killer chuckled, amused at his concern. “oh really? what, so you can act like a support system like you’re someone who actually cares about me?” he spat. He shook his head dismissively. “i am going to my room,” he repeated slowly, enunciating each word this time.

Horror sighed as Dust also walked off.

However, Dust wasn't walking to leave the room, but rather towards Killer. He grabbed Killer's shoulder from behind, stopping him in place.

“horror i said—” His eye sockets widened when he turned to see Dust instead. He frowned. “you too, huh?”

Dust patted him on the shoulder with the same hand.

“‘m not even going to pretend that means anything.” He shrugged his hand off. “you forget that i have just as high of LV as you. i know what that does to you. we don't have the capacity to care. we're numb!” he said bitterly.

“you sure are the most emotional for someone so ‘numb’,” Horror chimed in.

“that's not—”

“true? you were laughing just a moment ago. you’re so shaken at what happened you want to be alone. you're gonna tell me that's ‘numb’?”

“well i’m not feeling normally either!” Killer snapped. His hand mindlessly hovered over his soul, covering it from their view. “it's all so short lived what does it matter anyway?! i just need a second alone, everything will go back to normal, and then Nightmare will torment us again, cycle repeats,” his voice broke, unusually filled with emotion. “that's our lives now.”

“you don't have to isolate yourself—”

“shut up! you don't care about me! neither of you do! you never will, because i killed papyrus—the only person who’d care for us unconditionally. i can blame the anomaly or nightmare all i want but it's my fault that this is happening.”

Dust was taken aback. His face was hardly visible, but Killer could see that he was stunned.

Killer always insisted he wasn't at fault for what happened in his universe; that it was just the anomaly's fault. It was what Dust hated so much about him, half because he was mad at his audacity to shift the blame and half because he was jealous he could do that. Turned out he was jealous at nothing, because he couldn't do that.

Dust tried to sign something.

“i don't know what that meant, but i assume it's an insult.”

Dust shook his head. He tried again, but in a way he hoped Killer would understand, by pointing at him and motioning to where his own soul is.

Killer tilted his head. “you want my soul or something?”

Dust face palmed.

“don't be dense, killer. he's telling you that he does care about you!” Horror interjected. “we both do, dumbass.”

Dust brought his hand down and nodded.

Killer scoffed and crossed his arms. “well don’t expect me to reciprocate.”

“okay ‘mr. edgy i can't feel anything but i need to go in my room to cry’,” Horror teased.

“i wasn't going to cry!” he retorted.

“right…” Horror trailed off, getting an idea. “either of you wanna get a snack? nightmare's not here to stop us from raiding the fridge.”

“of course you would think of that,” Killer said.

“you down or not?”

“duh!” Killer threw his arms up. “let's go!”

The three of them walked out of the hall together and made their way to the kitchen.

The kitchen looked much more modern than the hall, as if it belonged in a mansion rather than a castle. None of them questioned how any of the appliances were powered.

To their delight, they had plenty of time for rummaging through the fridge and eating. They ended up staying at the table and chatting even after finishing their food.

Nightmare was taking much longer to come back than any of them expected. It was almost nighttime and he had yet to show up. They almost wondered if he was coming back or not.

To everyone's shock it was Papyrus that entered the room. They weren't sure if it was the same one at first until he started talking.

“I AM HERE YET AGAIN!” he announced.

The three of them gawked.

“YES, YES, I KNOW IT IS SURPRISING, BUT THE GREAT PAPYRUS CANNOT STAY DOWN FOR LONG! I HAVE RECOVERED FROM THAT CHILLING EXPERIENCE…” his eyes shifted to the side, “MIRACULOUSLY!” He posed proudly with his cape-scarf blowing in the nonexistent wind behind him. “ALTHOUGH, I WON’T BE HERE FOR LONG. I AM ONLY HERE TO SAY FAREWELL.” He extended his arms out, offering a hug.

Dust hesitated, while Horror couldn't even react before Killer sprang up out of his chair to accept it.

“IT’S UNFORTUNATE I HAVE TO GO, BUT I HAVE MY OWN UNIVERSE THAT IS IN NEED OF A PAPYRUS!” He said as he patted Killer on the back and ended the hug. He walked over to one of the windows. “TRY NOT TO MISS ME TOO MUCH!” He jumped through the window. Just like that he was gone.

Horror hurried over to the window to catch the sight of a portal closing and sighed in relief. “he always knew how to make an exit.”

They assumed that since Papyrus arrived, Nightmare would show up at any moment, but it took another hour for him to arrive.

He hurridly passed through the kitchen, probably on his way to his room. It seemed he didn't expect them to still be hanging out in the kitchen as he made a note of ignoring them.

Dust managed to sneak a glance at him and the huge scorch mark on his back. In addition to that, he had less tentacles out than usual, he swore he saw legs underneath his cloak which were usually covered up.

Killer and Horror were too caught up in talking about the sudden Papyrus encounter to care.

Meanwhile, in Nightmare's room he stood in front of the mirror hung on his wall, glaring at himself in contempt.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

It was the very thing he said to himself when he decided to do this. When he decided to gather those three and take them to the castle.

Don’t get attached.

He told himself. Yet here he was, in front of his mirror trying to convince himself that he hasn't gotten attached.

They were supposed to be his source of negativity, in a way, mere food.

The scorch mark on his back and missing tentacles were proof of his failure. He wouldn't purposefully seek out his brother if he wasn't attached to them. He wouldn't try to salvage the situation he created specifically for his entertainment.

But it wasn't entertaining. Not anymore. That was the problem.

He hit the mirror off the wall with one of his remaining tentacles.

He didn't know where to go from here.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

More random Sun and Moon Show headcanons

Lunar bites to show affection.

Solar has a coffee addiction (canon). He survives off three whole pots a day and seventeen iced coffees. He consistently has the coffee shakes.

Ruin has a tendency to just hide from things. Not even scary things but everything. Like he’ll see a mop bot coming to clean and hide under a table for no reason.

Earth can eat an entire gallon tub of ice cream in five minutes with a fork.

Frank wears dresses in his spare time because Ronty once said dresses suit him.

Sun’s cats hide in his stomach hatch and sleep in there all day sometimes.

Moon likes to freeze oil and make it into ice pops.

New Blood Moon throws tantrums and cries on the floor if he doesn’t get what he wants.

New Harvest Moon sits in his twin when Blood Moon is on the floor throwing a tantrum and just stays there until Bloody calms down.

Old Blood Moon finds the highest surface possible and sits there. Then he turns into a kitten stuck in a tree and cries to be helped down.

Old Harvest Moon had a plushie collection Lunar gave him.

Backup Eclipse was mostly hallucinating constantly the last month of his life. He had next to no clue what was going on and what was real and what wasn’t.

Kill Code had a shrine in his trailer to his three children.

Jigsaw had no clue what fireworks were. Probably thought they were bombs.

Original Eclipse was terrified of the dark. One time the daycare lights turned off and Lunar had to help him calm down while turning the lights back on because he was full on screaming and crying.

Lunara just pops into the dimension routinely and him and Sun play tag.

Lord Eclipse gets lonely and just kinda shows up in Moon’s room and just sits there with him because he’ll take someone who screams at him to ‘get out’ over being lonely.

Revived Eclipse has routine panic attacks. They seem timed because they happen at the same time every day but they really aren’t. He just has daily panic attacks at like 2:25 am.

Lord Lunar yeets his servant to spend time with Solar because they’re the only two relatively nice Eclipses and he wants Eclipse-Eclipse bonding so his brother has enrichment for his enclosure and social skills.

Servant Eclipse loves Sunday bonding with Solar but won’t admit it.

[honey-crypt]

Headcanons for Elliott with a farmer that has schizophrenia? (Mostly having hallucinations of things such as spiders or people) if you're uncomfortable with writing this just delete it. Thanks for writing awesome stuff tho

a/n: ofc dear! i’m glad you enjoy my work. hope you enjoy this post!

warnings: hallucinations

★ hallucinations - elliott with a farmer who has schizophrenia ★

★ elliott’s a writer and one of the many things writers excel at is research so when you confide in him about your schizophrenia, he immediately hits the books so he can figure out the best way to support you

★ he usually acts as your baseline for reality; for example, if you’re seeing a spider on the napkin dispenser at the saloon, you can ask elliott if it’s real or not and he can confirm it for you

★ your hallucinations aren’t as scary as they were before you started antipsychotics but they sure are annoying so often times, elliott finds you yelling at a corner in the room or flipping off something in the clouds

★ elliott does his best to be supportive with you and your schizophrenia and does so by leaving you cute sticky note reminders to take your medications and taking you on little outings after your therapy sessions

★ he loves you with all his heart/soul and will 1000% kick the shit out of a hallucination for you

[blumeblooms]

- > speak up ! || two - is this legal …

toge inumaki x reader

————————————————————————

“Wow. Are you serious? You thought you were hallucinating?? That’s hilarious, and sad- but mostly hilarious.” The blindfol- Gojo laughed at you as you deadpanned. How were you supposed to know?? And why did this man look so.. familiar ? You sworn you had seen him before, Wait… “Hey! Aren’t you the guy who got banned from the flower shop for drawing dicks on the wall???” You exclaim as Gojo smirks childishly and you really start to wonder why you’re here. Utahime had left about 10 minutes ago, leaving you with this guy.

“Aha yeah that was me! Man i’m so funny, but anyways. Let me put this simple for you. We, need you because you, Y/n L/n hold a technique that hasn’t been done in thousands of years! Crazy i know” Gojo says as he makes a mind blowing motion and spits everywhere making loud explosion noises, you visibly cringe as he fakes offense.

“You’ll train to get stronger, get paid, and have a place to stay. It’s not sunshine and rainbows, but i believe you have the ability to do it. So Y/n, what do you say?” Gojo says with a brow raised as you think for a second with eyebrows furrowed before speaking up.

“Okay wait first of all, why do you talk like a 6 year old trying to write poetry. Second… I’ll do it, and for the record, my life will always be sunshine and rainbows.” You say with a look as Gojo raises a brow before laughing. Wait.. was this even legal?

“You’re a bitch! I like you already, alright well now that that’s settled, i’ll show you your dorm and then you can meet some of the others, shall we?”

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

After seeing your new dorm area

“Alrighttt! So that’s pretty much it, if you have any questions ask me~! Your dorm is right next to Maki, who you’re about to meet! She’s a little standoffish at first, but don’t take offense, she’s just a little scary” Gojo says with a playful wink before he quite literally drags you across the halls and to a classroom. Looking at you with a grin before bursting open the second year classroom door. You look at him frazzled as you already regret your decision.

“Hello lovely students! Your super attractive amazing teacher Gojo is here! And drum roll please… we have a new student!! This is Y/n L/n, they just transferred today! Be nice, and have fun! I’ll see you in my office later Y/n” Gojo says before pushing you to the front of the classroom and leaving in a hurry. You stand there staring with wide eyes as you want to fall into a hole at how awkward this feels. Feeling the curious stares from your apparent new classmates.

“Um.. Hi.. I don’t really know what’s going on. Gojo really sucks at explaining but um, hope we can get along..?” You say clearing your throat awkward and quietly as you try to make things less uncomfortable. You glance at your classmates, the girl you assume to be Maki. A panda, a literal panda as you wonder if it’s a guy who’s just a furry, and then the last guy… Why does he also look familiar…? Do all white haired guys just look familiar to you?? But no.. you swear you’ve seen him before just… Oh my god.

“Wait, you! You’re the one who tried stealing flowers the other day!”

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

|| previous || masterlist || next

• summary - in where you meet a nice lady in a flower shop you volunteer at, just to find out you can defeat curses when you thought you were just hallucinating. you transfer to jujutsu high, and you see a guy with his face covered who tried to steal flowers the other day! you confront him and he stays silent, so you tell him to speak up, only for him to say… onigiri ingredients? whether you just quit or go on with this new lifestyle- well, that’s for fate to decide.

[miserymerci]

Fluffy February Day 10: Care - Desert Water

Fandom: Lego Monkie Kid

Characters: MK, Sun Wukong, Mei

(Sunburst duo, Jackfruit duo, Samadhi fire, Alternate universe)

Word count: 4347

Summary: (TW: Descriptions of a panic attack) In our original timeline, the Samadhi Fire reforges and almost tears Mei apart. In this timeline, things aren’t much better.

There is little that you can’t steal from people. Money can be taken, for one, and life, for another. While most stolen things are material objects, there is also the intangible; love, happiness, trust …

The downside of taking love, happiness, and trust by force is that they often become broken in the process. If there’s one thing that remains constant in people, it’s their will to bite and scratch and tear when attacked. Broken love is not love, broken happiness is not happiness. It becomes a second, more awful thing not too different from hallucinating an oasis in the middle of the desert.

So, then, broken trust is not trust.

Mei and MK met as children in the midst of a mediocre autumn day. She had begged her parents for fast food, was promptly denied, and then threw a tantrum so bad that they had finally– begrudgingly – found themselves at Pigsy's Noodles for dinner.

Pigsy’s was by no means a fast food place.

So, really, Mei was totally justified in her little five-year-old mind to be upset. She pouted with her head on the counter, stuck her tongue out at the noodles, glared dramatically as her parents ate… what else could a child do to express their feelings? Well, she could always toss the bowl. She wasn’t going to make this easy.

Before she could execute her next plan, MK popped up from the other side of the counter. Mei flinched back in her seat.

“Where did you come from?” asked Mei.

“My room,” said MK, blankly, “I’m Xiaotian. Are you going to eat that?”

Mei blinked. She followed the kid’s finger to her bowl of noodles, and then remembered that she was supposed to be pouting.

“No,” she said, sticking her nose up, trying to see if her parents were paying attention. They weren’t. 

“Can I have it?”

“Why do you want it?”

“Because if you don’t eat it, Pigsy will have to throw it away. And it makes him upset. He cries about it at night.”

Mei frowned, glancing at the chef behind the door flaps of the kitchen. He was weird and scary, but did he deserve to cry? Her inner sympathetic self (annoyingly) jumped out and decided that she didn’t want to go that far. 

She pushed the bowl toward Xiaotian. 

“My dad cries at night. Not about noodles, though,” said Mei after a moment of watching Xiaotian fumble with his chopsticks. “He paints as a hobby, but gets cranky when he can’t get the colors right.”

“Oh! I paint sometimes. With crayons.” 

Noodles fell out of Xiaotian’s mouth as he chewed and talked with his mouth full. Mei was thoroughly intrigued. 

Wordlessly, she handed him a napkin.

“Thanks.”

“You’re making that look really good,” she said.

Xiaotian, for the first time during this conversation, broke his blank expression to smile. It was sort of weird, though, as if he had only attempted it a few times.

“It is. Pigsy makes the tastiest food in all of China.”

Mei wrinkled her nose. She snuck another look at her parents, who were likely chattering on about a future business deal, and then turned back to Xiaotian.

“Are you not hungry?” asked Xiaotian.

“I… Well, I am , but I wanted fried chicken. Not,” she frowned at the peppercorn swirling around Xiaotian’s chopsticks, “ …this .” 

“What’s a fried chicken?” asked Xiaotian through a mouthful of beef. 

Mei’s jaw dropped.

“You’ve never had–! Fried food! Have you ever had french fries before?”

“What do French people have to do with frying chicken?” 

“How do you know what France is but not– this is hard to believe,” said Mei after a moment, “have you lived under a rock ?!”

“Mei!” said her mother, finally turning to look at her. “What are you doing yelling at the chef’s boy? Be more respectful.”

Mei squeezed her hands into fists on the counter.

“We were playing a game,” said Xiaotian, licking his lips, “who could yell the loudest. She’s winning.”

“ Xiaotian ! What are you doing eating the customer’s noodles!?”

Xiaotian actually looked worried this time. He cradled the bowl in his hands and turned to Pigsy.

“Didn’t want you to cry,” he blurted.

“What–”

“I’m full. I was gonna throw it away,” said Mei, crossing her arms, “ without drinking the broth.”

Pigsy gave a full-body shudder. He tightened his hold on his ladle, grumbled under his breath, and then returned to the kitchen. He might have said something about the disrespectfulness of the young these days, but it wasn’t something either of them had remembered. 

When Xiaotian turned back to Mei, she looked deathly serious.

“I’ve never lied to my parents before,” she said, quietly.

“What’s ‘lied’?” said Xiaotian, just as quietly.

“It’s when you say something that hasn’t actually happened.”

“Like a story ?”

Mei shrugged, still awestruck, “kinda.”

“You made a story for me?” asked Xiaotian.

Mei blinked at the boy’s blank expression and laughed . 

“My name is Mei,” she said, “but you probably already knew that from my mom. It’s nice to meet you Xiaotian… but I need to teach you the delicious good-ness of fried chicken.” 

Xiaotian brightened. He glanced down at his half-eaten soup and offered it back to his new friend.

“I will eat fried chicken, but you have to give Pigsy’s noodles a chance. They’re delicious good-ness too.” 

Mei, whole tantrum forgotten, straightened up in her seat with excitement and took the bowl. 

“Thank you. I… here,” she dug around in her pockets before holding out a little, crinkled daisy. “I picked it from our garden this morning. You can have it.”

In actuality, the Dragons grew only fruits and vegetables in their garden. Mei had been given a tiny dirt box of her own just beyond the mangosteen tree on her fourth birthday, and flower seeds that her parents didn’t expect would live to see the next week. 

Xiaotian held the daisy very, very gently. A pool of warmth was drawn from the flower into Xiaotian’s veins; like the cozy bubble bath Pigsy had given him only a few weeks prior. The flower wouldn’t stay fresh and green for anymore than a few hours, but the steady transfer of trust had already taken place.

The flower, early the next morning, would be found as a crispy, burnt vessel, and Xiaotian would catch the worst fever in his existence. Tonight, however, Mei blew on the hot noodles and took a bite.

The three rings of Samadhi spat fire around them; like a wolf with no eyes; like a tiger with no teeth. The most vicious beasts came in a state of deep confusion, like sorrow and hunger and panic. Scared beasts lash out– like sparks? Like fire . There was only fire. It breathed in their lungs and spilled out of their mouths like rotten poison. Fire can’t help but consume. It was in its nature, after all, and many would lose their lives in its blind fury.

Mei, in the middle of it all, held onto Macaque’s wrist like a lifeline; as if he was the only person between Mei and death. 

In a sense, he was. But he was not on Mei’s side. As far as she knew, he never has been– and never would be. 

The fire was roaring. The lights were blazing. Macaque’s hold on her was scalding. The smoke of it all gathered into her nose and tried– cruelly, slowly– to break into her very being. The Samadhi fire… was it coming? Which of these bright lights was it? Did it matter? Would she die? Was she already dead? Could she still fight?

The screams of her friends warbled in the heat. Through blurry vision, she tried her best to keep her eyes on Macaque. As long as she didn’t let go of this beast, he wouldn’t be able to run off to hurt any of the others. If she just could keep holding on… stay brave a little longer . Mei tightened her grip and glared at The Macaque. 

He wasn’t looking at her. His unclouded eye darted around the ritual site with a look so strange that Mei couldn’t stop her heart from dropping. 

Something was going wrong. Something was wrong, and Mei couldn’t do anything .

The fire, deep and dark and merciless, raced past the wailing night sky like a wounded dragon, past Tang, past Macaque, and past Mei.

It struck MK instead.

“No,” whispered Macaque.

“MK!” Tang turned and lowered his hand, but his spell was already in full swing. It sputtered and tolled in a final act of defiance. 

The beam gathered into a golden ball at MK’s chest– and then it burst into flames. 

Macaque dropped Mei. He stepped over her, hesitated, and skidded back from a shockwave of unquenchable fire. It tore apart the ice haunting Macaque’s body. It roared over MK’s cries. It took that cruel, cruel coldness from Macaque and shoved it into Mei’s queasy stomach instead. 

“I was too late,” said someone behind Mei.

She swallowed dryly and begged for the fire to burn her instead. Did she mean that? She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything but the harsh heat and the wild feeling of no control. But now, in the inferno of MK’s painful wails, she could only turn and aim her anger elsewhere.

“What is this?” said Mei, her words wavering. She glared at the Monkey King, who looked between her and MK, frozen. “What did you do to him?”

Monkey King opened his mouth, closed it, then swallowed. 

Mei growled.

“I’m coming, MK!” she tried to shout over the crackling fire (and, probably, crackling bones ). “Stop drop and roll, MK! Drop! Drop !”

She lifted herself up to her feet, prepared to leap, and was barely caught by Monkey King. 

“No,” he said, keeping a firm hold on Mei’s shoulders, “that won’t work . The Samadhi Fire– it’s inextinguishable. Did you forget that part?”

Mei shoved off his hands. 

“I don’t care . We need to help him!”

“You can’t ,” stressed Monkey King, but even he didn’t look very certain of that. His limbs were heavy and his heart shook pathetically in his chest– the words were on instinct, but there had to be a way to wiggle out of this mess (but by all the gods did he feel trapped. Like a scraggy wolf, or an old tiger, or a collared beast). 

“Sun Wukong is right!” called Nezha, his locus petals breaking the others out of their frosty prison just off to the side. “The fire will consume the boy, but it will also consume us if we stay.”

“We can’t leave him!” sputtered Mei. 

“There has to be another way,” begged Pigsy. 

“There are no other ways. We need to leave, if you value your life,” Nezha was saying, but Monkey King was too distracted staring at his shadow.

Macaque stared frightfully back. 

“ You did this!” 

Through an endless heatwave, Monkey King lunged at Macaque and took him by the throat. 

“I– I didn’t! Well– technically – but… ! Ghrr!”

Monkey King dug his nails against Macaque’s skin. He gritted his teeth as another heartbreaking cry came from the fire.

“ Stop !” said Tang. “It wasn’t Macaque who started the ritual. It was me . Uh, well, he did force me to but– but I felt like I had to! I mean right now I’m kind of having second thoughts…! But you have to understand– it was like it was my destiny .” 

Monkey King’s jaw dropped, and Macaque’s would have too if he hadn’t been dropped bottom-first onto the ground. 

“Destiny?” cried Monkey King, stepping toward Tang. “This whole reason we’re here is because of destiny and you thought it would be a good idea to follow it !? Look around! Is this all exactly what you wanted!?” 

Tang flinched. Pigsy turned to glare at Monkey King, fists clenching.

MK wailed. Somewhere in the flames, his legs buckled and stumbled like a newborn. 

“ AAAAUUUUGHHHHHH !!” Another shockwave rippled past the group. The fire, glowing a faint raspberry, churned into a murky red. Whatever battle MK was fighting, he was losing– and quickly. Monkey King lifted his arm and took the brunt of the force, Mei and Macaque behind him. From the other side of the whipping frenzy, Monkey King could see Sandy doing the same. 

“ What is happening to MK!?” 

“The Samadhi Fire– it was supposed to be inside of you , Mei. During the ritual, a piece of it got away from me and took form inside the closest vessel it could find: your great-great– eerr probably a lot of greats– grandfather, Ao Lie.” 

“YOU ARE A FOOL, SUN WUKONG!” shouted Nezha distantly. Monkey King tried to pay him no mind.

“SO YOU WERE GOING TO SACRIFICE ME !?” shouted Mei.

“No! No ! I thought that, maybe, I could have taken it away from you and put it into me– uh, okay, it’s embarrassing just saying this aloud…”

“Ugh! Then how does MK have it? We’re not related!”

“You had it before , but you must have given it away unintentionally! Or something! I… I’m not sure .”

Mei deflated, probably going through every single memory of her and MK together. Had any of them involved an exchange of fire? 

Monkey King hesitated at the mortified look on her face.

“You knew ?” sobbed MK, finally, breaking Monkey King from his trance. His arm curled around his gut. Through the charring inferno, his eyes warbled and twisted in sickening pain. MK was looking at him; afraid, confused, burning from the inside out, and wailed; “ Monkey King ? You knew ?” 

The fire was horrendously loud. MK’s cries, somehow, felt louder. They struck through every crack in Monkey King’s walls and, very suddenly, he realized that there was little he could do to fix this.

He had lost control, with no known way to truly extract the fire, with no way to pull his protege from the flames. How did this happen? How had he overstepped? ( Okay , he overstepped a lot– more than he could ever name– but with the kid ? The only times he had let him slip from his grasp was when he wasn’t paying attention; Macaque, the Lady Bone Demon; but he had been so watchful this time. 

Where had he gone wrong? Where had he gone wrong ? 

It must have been his laziness, somehow. Had he been lazy? Maybe a few times, but it had been harmless. No, not harmless– harmless to him , maybe. Not to…

Oh. Oh, he was losing it. He couldn’t… was he? Could he…? Think…! …

The embers went fuzzy around him. The Samadhi fire howled on and on, deforming into a fierce shriek, like a monster going for his traitorous throat– and then nothing but ringing buzzed through his head… something like underwater, something like space, something like nothing.

MK…! MK… MK… ? 

.

.

.

“Wukong!” someone was yelling. Hot air blew through his fur and left something that sizzled there. It kissed his skin and grabbed his windpipes and held on tight. 

“ Monkey King !” someone else screamed. The thing clenched tighter.

He was breathing too loudly– louder than the chaos, louder than the calls, louder than his stuttering heart. Focus. Focus . His eyes stung from the heat and the shaking world cried with MK’s turmoil.

“I need– Please. Please… Monkey… King..?”

Monkey King blinked. What did he want him to do? MK fought against the whipping blaze; stumble after step, step after stumble. He neared like Earth around the Sun, like a thirsty throat to water, like he couldn’t help but gravitate toward the only thing he knew in a desperate time of need.

Monkey King’s breathing quickened.

The fire burst. Everyone was knocked back further, but Monkey King planted his feet and gritted his teeth. Blackened, burning claws scraped ground and sky and flesh and bone.

Focus ! 

MK was crying. He was looking at him– looking for him– looking not for answers from him, but a secret second thing. Monkey King needed to figure whatever it was now (maybe run, maybe fight, anything but stand dumbly).

“Monkey King,” said Mei, oddly level in the storm, “I don’t know if you can hear me, but it just remembered something.”

Monkey King’s tail twisted.

“When MK and I first met, I had felt a connection between us that I had never felt before. I mean… I had my parents, of course, but that’s a bond that began even before I could really think. With MK, it was all my own. I felt as if every action and feeling was me . I shared with him my trust that day, and I think it may have helped us for the better. Like I could share every piece of me with him. Like it helped lessen the pressure.”

‘I don’t get it,’ Monkey King wanted to say, ‘please spell it out for me. I don’t understand. What is trust? You want me to trust him? How can I trust him any more than I already do? Do I? How do you even show trust?’

What can he do?

‘What can I do?

‘What can I do for you …?’

The heat kissed his face. His company was gone, now, hidden away behind walls of flames that had glazed past him and trapped him in the eye of the storm. It was just him and MK; MK and the fire; and he was frozen. 

MK crashed into Monkey King. The fire reared, wailing in support of MK's weakening will. His knees knocked against Monkey King’s, stumbled, and then ashen hands balled up the cloth at Monkey King’s chest.

He could hear MK’s every growl and grit, now. His body was warm like a fever and his grip tugged at Monkey King’s fur. The fire, deep in his kid, reached out to try to grab him , too.

It lashed and spat and tore and the smell of smoke lingered like a wound. 

Him and MK. Him and MK. And then MK and the fire… the fire…

Them and the fire.

Monkey King breathed it in. The smoke eagerly seeped into his immortal lungs and shuttered. His hand, once frozen at his side, snuck up and untangled MK’s hands from his clothing. He squeezed his hand, and MK struggled to do the same. 

MK was sobbing into his neck. He could hear it in the crackling of the flying sparks. He could feel it in his heated bones. 

‘What can I do for us ?’

And Monkey King had an idea now; an inkling of one, as usual, but instead of starting as a thought, it began as a feeling. Less like he ‘should’, and more like he ‘could’. 

Monkey King’s other hand broke from its daze and wiggled into that little spot where MK was hiding his face. With two fingers, he pressed at the dip in MK’s throat and found his pulse.

It raced and raced like a wildfire. It sparked from MK’s heartbeat. It clung onto Monkey King’s touch. He gritted his teeth as the Samadhi fire darted straight into his body (like an illness, like a bad dream, like a–).

He shook his head and huffed, the fire finally making his composure waver. His belly burned with the beginnings of something destructive. It taunted his resolve.

With another smokey breath, he pulled MK closer. He could do this. He had helped to contain the fire before, how different could it be to contain it in himself?

“I’m sorry we’re in this mess, bud,” he grunted out. “And I’m sorry I froze up like that. But I’m here, and I see how much you trust me to fix this right now.”

MK’s heartbeat quickened, and he keened in fiery pain.

“It’s okay. We’re okay. Shh– shh… Do you feel the fire? Not the burning, aching part of it: its core. Its heart. Do you feel it? It’s lashing out because it doesn’t know where to go. It’s spent most of its life dormant and it’s–” a wave of the Samadhi fire fought against his control of it. Monkey King swayed back and growled “–it’s free now, and it doesn’t know what to do. We have to calm it down– not let it control us.”

The kid sucked in a harsh breath, choked, and then inhaled again. The flames wavered and roared around them, surprised at the attempt of reeling it in. Monkey King imagined that, if he could see MK’s face, it would be tensed up in that determined, brave way of his.

Monkey King focused on MK’s fluttering pulse and then said, “There we go. We’ve got it. Hang on tight. Grab it and don’t let go– pull it close and simmer it to sleep. We’re not on fire, we’re using the fire. It’s ours, not us.”

The fire, mighty and lethal, split at the coals and seeped into Monkey King’s gut. It coiled there like a tired beast, warm from the sun and protective like roots to rain; rain to clouds; clouds to sky. He hung onto the life alight inside of him and onto the life clinging to him. He bit the inside of his cheek and tasted iron and smoke and something strikingly sweet.

MK took the other half of the fire. The wildness of it, suddenly, became so much more bearable. Two little flames that had come from one life with the strange purpose of being destructive reeled into their beings like a sharing of duty.

No, not duty– Monkey King took a deep breath that was full of MK’s bitter hair and felt the fire twinkle and ring inside the both of them– this was a sharing of trust. Proof that they could stand together and achieve a type of care that no forced bond could steal. 

The maroon flames sighed one last tired effort and whisked into nothing.

Monkey King blinked once, then twice, and then took away his hand from MK’s pulse and looped it around MK’s back. His shoulder was wet. MK had been crying there, seeping into his clothes and skin.

“You did good, bud,” he said into his protege’s hair. He blinked away the stinging of his fire-nipped eyes. “We got it. We’re okay now.”

MK shuttered in relief and went limp in his arms.

“Kid!” shouted Pigsy, cutting through the receding smoke first. He reached out and helped Monkey King lower MK to the ground. “Is he alright? What happened in there?”

“Your big blue friend was going to try to charge through the fire after our view was cut off. I had to hold him back,” said Nezha, nearing carefully, as if curious.

Monkey King sighed.

“He’s going to be okay. We were able to calm the Samadhi fire inside of him, but–”

“He still has the fire ?” snapped Pigsy. He pulled back his hand from where it was on MK’s forehead and whirled on Monkey King. “Take it out of him!”

“You saw what happened to him. If you want Wukong to take it out of the kid completely, then let’s go ahead and start the ritual again,” said Macaque.

“What’re you still doing here!?” blurted Monkey King.

Macaque shrugged and averted his eyes from where half of the group was shooting him withering looks. 

“Public space,” he said.

Monkey King felt the fire twist unpleasantly inside of him. The beginnings of anger threatened to kindle the spark, but he took a deep breath and focused on MK’s resting face. 

“I took away half of the fire from him and put it into myself,” he said. Nezha took a step back from him, and he pretended not to notice. “It’s… not a permanent fix to the problem, but no one’s on fire anymore, so that’s an improvement…”

Pigsy sniffled (angrily) at him, but swallowed his words. Instead, he turned back to MK to tend to his lingering fever.

Monkey King’s tail coiled and uncoiled nervously. He felt queasy from the unfamiliar fire inside of him, like he could faint any second and have a long, tremendous nap. He turned the slightest bit to look at Mei, who had come to stand next to him in the calm after the storm.

“You sounded like you knew exactly what to do,” he said.

Mei startled, wiping at her teary eyes before looking up at Monkey King. Her worried face was equal parts concerning and touching, and he hoped to never be the cause of a look like that again.

“Why didn’t you do it?” continued Monkey King, softly. 

Mei shook her head. She almost looked guilty, but one look at MK replaced that hesitance with certainty. She smiled at Monkey King (something he didn’t expect her to do to him after all that ).  

“I just felt it in my gut; that it had to be you to do it. MK already knows that he and I… we’re a team. We can always rely on each other. I just…” she sheepishly crossed her arms (almost hugging herself, almost not), “I needed to know that you would go halfway to him, just like he would go halfway for anyone else here. I needed to know you really– really – cared.” 

Monkey King bit his lip and sighed, “Of course I care.”

Mei laughed, still tense from the aftershock, but friendlier than she was before when she was just about ready to smack him upside the head. They watched MK’s breathing steady out. Pigsy, ever the hovering parent, placed a wet rag (that had been provided by Nezha, fearful of Pigsy’s protectiveness) over MK’s forehead.

“Now that you have the fire,” started Mei again, quietly, “are you going to go after the Lady Bone Demon?”

Monkey King glanced down at his fingertips. He let them twitch with a newfound, blazing energy; one that could combat the everlasting ice haunting his past and future. It was true that he had gotten what he had wanted (albeit only half of it), and it might just be enough to win the war. But it hadn’t got exactly how be planned. Out of all of the ways this could have played out, this one was by far the most mortifying way he dared to imagine.

He pulled his eyes away from his hands and blinked slowly at MK.

“No,” he said, “if we go up against the Lady Bone Demon, it’ll be together.”

[blushweddinggowns]

Steve was completely normal the next day. Infuriatingly, normal. Flirting with girls and spinning his hat around. Normal enough for Robin to start to think she had a full on hallucination last night. But she wasn’t crazy. She knew that she saw those two going at it, all in front of Eddie's signature shitty van.

Didn’t she?

“You’ve been quiet today.”

Robin jumped at the sound of Steve’s voice, completely lost in her own thoughts. He was staring right at her, popping his gum as he went on, “You don’t even bring the flirting board out. Did you get bored of it or are you finally willing to concede that I’m a great flirt?”

“I’ll never concede that,” Robin said easily. It was true anyway, the guy was freaking terrible at it, at least with girls his own age. Now housewives and cougars he had a knack for. But anyone who could possibly be girlfriend material ended up leaving with a giggle and a funny story about the dork in the sailor suit trying to pick them up, and nothing more. 

But Robin had a feeling that maybe Harrington had been downplaying his skills in that department afterall.

He raised a brow at her, “So what’s your problem then?”

“I’m just tired,” She lied, “A consequence of having to be here so late. Alone. Thanks again for that by the way. Hope your night was worth it.”

The little shit didn’t even try to look like he felt guilty. He just smirked, “Oh, it was. And I’m holding up my end of the deal aren’t I? I’m not flirting with grandmas for kicks over here.”

She had to give him that. He really had been turning up the charm for the mall walkers. But still…

“Aw, poor you. Like you wouldn’t have been trying to get in someone’s pants without owing me,” She said, trying for casualness. Like she wasn’t watching for his every reaction out of the corner of her eye, “Isn’t the hump and dump the Harrington way?”

He rolled his eyes, his voice on the colder side when he answered, “Don’t believe everything you hear Buckley. I happen to be the perfect gentleman, thank you very much.”

Weirdly enough, part of her was starting to believe it. 

But still. Even if she saw them kissing, it left too many unanswered questions. What about the trail of heartbroken women he had left in his wake? What about Nancy Wheeler, the only girl who ever landed him for more than a day? They had been pretty serious before he’d gotten dumped, hadn’t they?

But now that Robin thought about it, no matter how many women came into Steve’s life, Eddie remained the only constant. Hell, in the short few weeks she'd been around him, it was obvious that he was obsessed with Steve, and vice versa. He was in nearly every day, until the manager banned him for being "distracting" to the workers. Which was half true, but Robin had a feeling it had more to do with him scaring customers away with his looks.

That was the only semi-scary thing about him though. He never really freaked Robin out that much, despite what others said about him. He was still in the loser category afterall and those were her people. Yeah he was loud, dressed like a confused goth, and sold drugs, but he wasn’t violent. He was shit stirrer, sure, but outside of appearances he was just mildly intimidating, at least to Robin. But when he was with Steve, even that was out the window. He basically just became a ray of sunshine, sweet, happy, bright, and weirdly enough…obedient? 

He basically did anything Steve asked of him, whether that be getting him lunch or helping them close up, the guy just did it. No questions asked, like it was an honor to be on Steve’s beck and call. Though Robin was sure the free ice cream helped.

Steve had sulked for days after Eddie was banned, and Robin thought it was because he lost his free personal assistant. But now…she didn’t know what was going on. 

Maybe this shouldn’t have been as shocking as it was. It’s not like there hadn’t been rumors. People had been making fun of them for being close for years.  But they were teenage boys around other teenage boys. How seriously was Robin supposed to take that? And teenage boys calling each other gay was like…a constant. Not just for Steve and Eddie. For literally any guy who did something slightly out of the norm was up for the title. Someone found out that a dude liked baking? Bam, gay. A guy dare cries in front of his friends after he gets dumped by a girlfriend? Super gay. She even heard a dude be called a fag for admitting to liking soccer for God’s sake. There was no rhyme or reason to male straightness, how was she supposed to know which rumors were true? 

She needs more, some kind of confirmation that guarantees she’s not wrong about this whole thing. And on a particularly slow day, she finds it. She hadn’t gone into work with the intention of eavesdropping on Steve through the break room door, but that’s where she landed. 

They had only been on shift for two hours and the guy was already on his second fifteen, insisting that he only had to make one “quick” call before going back to work. And she just…followed him back there, her curiosity getting the best of her.

“I know, I know. But it’s only a few more hours,” Steve’s muffled voice sighed, “I just wish you could still come see me. That rule is total bullshit.”

By this point Robin was pretty used to the tone of Steve’s voice. He usually sounded bored, always with a little edge of cockiness, unless you did something to rile him up. But he sounded different on the phone. Kinder. Sweeter even. She wasn’t sure. 

“Aw baby, are you down that bad?” Steve cooed. That cockiness she was used to was back in his voice, but now it was mixed with something else. Like he was breathless or something, she didn’t know, “Want me to walk you through it? I got ten minutes.”

Robin furrowed her brow, more than a little confused. Walk him through what?”

"Well if it feels so tight why don't you take it off?” Steve purred, barely loud enough for Robin to hear, “There you go. Isn't that better?"

Robin froze, mind racing at what she was hearing. But that couldn’t be right. She had to be misinterpreting this somehow, right? There was no way in hell that Steve would be have freaking phone sex at work-

“Yeah sweetheart, you can touch yourself now. Can you make it a little wetter baby? That’s it, good boy. Love when you get all whiny.”

Jesus Chrsit, he was. She had to stop listening after that, half out of embarrassment and half because…it just felt wrong. Though she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about where that conversation went. Extremely curious. But the small ounce of decorum she had left wouldn’t allow for it. 

Steve came out of the break room with a flush and a smirk ten minutes later, like the fucking weirdo he was. 

While he was distracted with their third customer of the day, she snuck back to the break room and pressed re-dial, not surprised in the slightest when she was met with a breathy, “Munson residence!" on the other line.

She hung up immediately at the sound of Eddie’s voice. That was all the proof she needed. There was no doubt about it now. Steve and Eddie were together. And had been for awhile. That four years comment wasn't looking like an exaggeration. 

And just like that her entire high school worldview was smashed into a million pieces. Because Steve fucking Harrington was in a relationship with a guy. A serious relationship. The same dude that she spent years obsessing over and being jealous over because of his charms, was as gay as she was. 

What a world. 

But somehow, this massive realization didn’t fix the jealousy. Because before she was jealous of all of the attention he got, from people she always thought he never deserved. But now she was jealous over the fact that he had managed the impossible. He was in a committed relationship with a man, a man whose dick he sucked while they were driving and who he walked through jerking off on the phone. While no one else was the wiser. How the fuck had he managed that? In this town of all places? While Robin was over here still pining away over every pretty blonde girl that smiled at her, Steve was living her closeted gay dream. How could she not be jealous?

But at least now it was mixed with some awe. Because if Steve Harrington could get away with being gay in Hawkins, why couldn’t she? She just wished she could talk to him about it. She just didn’t know what to say. But she knew she wanted to say something. 

Like maybe, Hey, I totally saw you making out with your boyfriend and I'm so far past being cool with it, I actually think it’s amazing. And oh I’m also gay and can we be best friends? 

Honestly though, from the little she did know about the guy, maybe that speech would be taken pretty well. She just didn’t know how to bring it up. Or when. 

But she was going to, eventually. She was going to get to know that dingus if it killed her.

Part two to this & from an this fic

[m4dm4yhem]

Hey! Mind if I asked for a darker topic?,

S it okay if I request Gwen Stacy with gnc reader, but like...the suicide/self harm one, just like the rest of the spiders? I haven't seen any, but I liked your writing and wanted to see Gwen's,

It's okay if you don't want to, I understand<3

Have a good time

summary: gwen knew what she was getting into when she dated [name], they always had a issue with self harm and their mental health.. while it was a lot to take on, she was always there.. until.. she wasn’t.

a/n: tysm for the request & enjoying my writing! I’ll try my best to do this right, and if you ever feel like you have no one; just dm me and we can chat and become friends, while this is fictional work feelings like this are very real, if you need anything dm me; they’re open for anyone, of all ages. I am a judgement free blog, and if you ever need me to write something with your comfort character comforting you in particular ( not a reader but YOU) I will not hesitate to write something like that up for you as well, I hope you guys are all okay, drink water and make sure you stay healthy. but once again my reader will always be black, my apologies if someone reading this is not black, but a black reader is the only one I am able to do because I am black.

TW: self-harm, suicide, reader’s death, character death, suicidal thoughts, voices, hallucinations

__________________________________________________

GWEN LOVED BEING SPIDER-WOMAN…

it was a tough job, but it meant she could save people, ever since she had lost peter, she wanted nothing more than to save those she loved, those who cared about her.. whether that be gwen stacy or ghost spider.

gwen loved to save her partner the most. she knew she probably shouldn’t have a favorite person to save; but this was someone close to her, someone who understood her, someone she loved and who loved her.

and that person was [name], her partner.. while it could be draining once she got a second to herself, it was harsh and worrisome when she got calls from her partner.. letting her know they wouldn’t be at school for a week or two due to an attempt on their life, and they’d ended up in the mental hospital.

it was scary, learning when they relapsed and they came to her for help. it was a lot, but it wasn’t too much, it was never too much.. because when you love someone.. their problems become yours. their emotions become your own as well if you aren’t too careful.

___________________________________________________

a tear slipped down [name]’s cheek, the voices were acting up again. telling them they were not enough for their girlfriend.. whispering in their ears in the late of the night that they might as well kill themselves, the poor teen gripped on their hair, and yanked on it; dry curls from the weeks they went without wearing their bonnet and moisturizing their hair were left behind in their palms.

“ jesus.. I can’t do anything right, I can’t take care of my hair.. I can’t do basic hygiene.. “ [name] began; feeling the tears begin to well up in their eyes once more.

“ yes.. you’re worthless.. you can’t do anything.” the voices spoke in their head, mentions of being ‘ useless’, ‘ a burden’, as well as insults on their appearance being thrown around as well.

it wasn’t until the mention of gwen; is when the tears really started to roll..

“ why is she even still with you?”

“ all you do is burden her.”

“ the world would be better off without you..and she’d even be happier if you just killed yourself.”

[name] tried to fight the urge, -after the brain they hated so much began to overwhelm them with the thoughts of how much.. better gwen’s life would be if they just.. were not in it. - but.. the urge to grab the knife and slice their wrist.. where many scars already lay was strong. the need and desire to hurt themselves to give themselves a peace of mind.. to not burden her.. it was stronger than the small voice of gwen’s in the back of their mind..

“ if anything like this happens again, please call me.”

it rang in their head, the voice of their girlfriend begging them to call her if any suicidal thoughts popped up, if any hallucinations or voices were heard or seen. if anything was bothering them, gwen was always there to lend a helping hand.. but whenever she needed anything.. they were always in the hospital, always there because they had made an attempt on their life.

the voices rang loud, they were overwhelming.. and it felt like they couldn’t even control their body as they hurried to the kitchen from their bedroom, and grabbed the sharpest knife that was available; hurrying to push their sleeve up, dragging the blade across their skin, small slits that were slowly dripping blood, their body shook, eyes closing; they couldn’t keep a steady hand. the knife was pressed against their wrist, and it was dragged across.. hitting a vein.

[name] open their eyes, and was met with a white slit against their dark skin, eyes widening. they knew what that meant.

the blood came next, “ oh shit.” they mumbled; trying to find a cloth, the blood was rushing quickly. the only thing they found was a sponge, pressing it against their arm. hurrying back upstairs to call the first person that came to mind, their girlfriend.

___________________________________________________

“ - okay, that doesn’t mean-“ gwen stopped for a moment, she was in the middle of a fight with a villain, “ wait.. hang on.” she sheepishly spoke as she pulled out her phone, picking up the phone “ hey.. honey, I’m kinda.. in the middle of-“

“ gwen.. gwen.. I’m sorry, but I need you right now.. I relapsed and.. I-…I’m bleeding bad, I can’t stop it.” [name]’s voice was full of distress, it was full of cracks and they couldn’t stop crying, gwen could hear the sobs

“ what?!” her voice was loud, worrying dripping from her lips, she turned to face the villain and then looked at her phone. “ sorry.. sorry.” she spoke multiple times, “ what?! fight me spiderwoman!” the villain had yelled, obviously offended from her words. gwen didn’t say much else, but just swung away, using her webs to swing her as quickly as possible to her lover’s house, keeping them on the phone. “ i’m here.. i’m here..” the panic in her voice was obvious as she tried to comfort her sobbing lover, who couldn’t stop apologizing, “ did you call the police?” gwen was just hoping an ambulance would be there when she arrived as well

“ no..i just.. I panicked and called you first.”

‘oh no..no.. no!’ gwen’s thoughts were running crazy, and her vision was starting to get blurry, “ hang on.. ima call you back.. I’m gonna call an ambulance first.” gwen’s voice was soft, and the last ten seconds of the call was her reassuring her partner that they’d be okay, that it was only a few moments they’d be apart before she dialed 911, telling the operator that her partner had cut themselves too deep and needed medical attention. the operator kept her on longer than she originally thought; giving the operator [name]’s address, to send a ambulance, the operator kept asking questions but gwen wasn’t in the right mind to answer them, so she avoided them by hanging up.

when she had finally made it to [name]’s window, her heart dropped, seeing her lover in a pool of their own blood.. shook her to her very core. it was something she would never forget.

“ h-hey…hey!” her eyes were wide, and she couldn’t think straight at that very moment. she quickly pulled the window open and hurried inside, “ [name]!” she quickly pulled her mask off, her blue eyes staring at her lover, gwen rushed to their side, giving them a few quick shakes to see if they were still alive.

they weren’t.

gwen had tried to cup their cheek, the body was still warm but the look in their eyes told gwen all she needed to know, “ oh my god..” she muttered, “ no.. no..” her blue eyes stared into [name]’s. seeing how dull and lifeless they looked, she should’ve been there..

she should’ve been with them, to help them through this.. god why did that stupid villain have to decide to rob that store.. was he even a villain? more or so just a criminal? why was she thinking about this now?

just.. why.

why.

why

___________________________________________________

it was at this time that gwen thought about the song IFHY.. by tyler the creator, not because the song related to her, it didn’t. but the line

“ life without you has no goddamn meaning.”

made her think about every second she had spent with her partner, and discovering their dead body was a lot, it hurt. her mind, body, and soul were affected from their death. she took a deep breath as she looked over New York, it didn’t make any sense to her.. why [name] wasn’t next to her. it would’ve made sense if they lived, they would be in the hospital by now, getting treated for their mental health.. but, they were sitting alone. somewhere, their body cold, she’d never get to hold them again, never would get to kiss them again.

she’d never..

unless.

she looked down at the drop to the ground, it’d be enough to kill her right..?

the thought was enough to shock her, she was never one to think about ending her life, these feelings were so heavy, and it hurt.. but.. she missed [name]..

she stood up, standing at the edge of the building

“ hey gwen.. i love you..c’mere”

“ you’re so funny.. c’mere.. I wanna cuddle”

“ gwen.. can you come over?”

“ come on.. give me a kiss..”

every single time.. her lover had wanted her to come closer to them, whether that be for a hug.. a kiss.. or just to be close together.. and sit in silence ran through her head, it was like.. the voice in her head.. of her dead partner was beckoning her to come to them? should she do it?

she missed [name]..

she missed them so much

but the thought of all her friends back at HQ.. her dad..

but the pain was too much for her.. she just wanted it to end.. she already went through enough.

maybe she’d also see her mother again?

her mother.. and [name].. she missed them.

too much..

she missed them too much not to..

she took a deep breath, deciding she’d actually do it..

she closed her eyes, swallowing any anxiety she had..

it was quite ironic to her, every other gwen stacy variant had died by falling to their death after falling in love with spiderman.. and she had tried so hard to never become the next dead gwen stacy. but here she was.. jumping off the building, letting her body fall.. with a smile on her face, tears fell out of her eyes.. a feeling of anxiety in her stomach.. and fear.. but peace as well…

she didn’t even feel herself hit the ground, but anyone who fell victim to the witness of a teenage girl taking her life knew.. she wasn’t alive, she couldn’t be, not after that ten story drop…

she was gone

[blood-moon-night-coining]

Reminder!

Hallucinations are not always visual and they aren’t always like scary. It can be auditory, senses, anything really.

Anyone can really have them, of course there are those who have it worse and more frequently.

Those who experience them ti any existent deserve respect and love.

(This rant came from nowhere)