#TW: Implied PTSD

[konoa-t]

As anticipated, here's some random tidbits about Ackley and Oron, the two silliest and goodest boys in my fan OC arsenal :D The info here isn't in any particular order (°▽°)/

There's gonna be a bit of text, so I'm putting it behind a cut. Enjoy! And thank you again to everyone who showed interest in these two!

[TW: SENSITIVE CONTENT (see tags)]

Ackley:

Ackley is the cool-headed mercenary of the colony, hired to fight alongside them or run recon and gather intel. He joined their ranks not because of pay, but because both he and the other knights he works with share the same goal: to get rid of those annoying little dark essence creatures.

A while back, Ackley had a bit of a violent run-in with a man named Metus. He was travelling through a planet when he got captured by Metus' subordinates and brought to his lair. Metus had known of Ackley's exploits and how much of an effective warrior he was, especially with the help of those interesting wings of his... He gave Ackley an ultimatum: either join him (which would most likely require him to kill off his own kind), or suffer the consequences. Ackley wasn't interested. And so, off goes the ends of his wings (sawn off roughly at the wrist joint). The whole ordeal made his wings go mostly numb from nerve damage, as well as giving him occasional phantom pains. Injured and on the verge of passing out, Ackley manages to escape and bumps into the colony. They patch him up and help him recover from his injuries, giving him medicine for the pain. Though he was too exhausted to speak, Ackley thanked them from the bottom of his heart, and vowed to crush Metus for what he had done to him. When he was offered a job with the colony, he accepted it almost immediately. Not only would this help him pay back his debt to them (/m), but it would also help offer him a straight line to Metus.

Whether its to cope with the trauma of his past or for some other reason, Ackley will occasionally light a cigarette to take the edge off. (I did make him smoke cuz I thought that it would be funny, but now I'm trying to fit it in with the plot). He doesn't like the taste of plain tobacco though, so he usually buys flavored ones.

He will often (jokingly) flirt with people he knows well (the vibes of it are kinda sorta like the whole "kiss the homies goodnight" thing).

Ackley has a habit of not taking things very seriously. He often treats battle as some sort of game and make jokes of things, even if its serious. (Though, if its serious enough [like murder], he wont be as likely to make light of it).

He had once looked at a portrait of Oron. He thought that he looked handsome. (the portrait had somehow come up in a conversation he was having with one of the colony's members. The colony member took him to Oron's memorial where the portrait was being kept.)

A pastime of his is stargazing!

Oron:

Oron is the chivalrous and kind-hearted elite knight who served directly under Empress Vita alongside Yumi (they were, in some aspects, like retainers). Many knights often looked up to him, sometimes referring to him as a "fairytale knight*" due to his strict following to the guidelines of chivalry and exemplary behavior both on and off of the battlefield. Civilian women within the colony also took quite a liking to Oron due to this fact, often sending him gifts or flowers (mostly as platonic tokens of appreciation, though some women would send him gifts to try and woo him).

He had died during the events of The Great Raid, and now his soul roams the Azure Plane**.

To elaborate on the previous point, he had perished while he was defending the Empress from the corrupt invaders storming the palace. One of the creatures had gotten a pretty good hit on him, leaving a large gash in his side. He ultimately died of blood loss. (Fortunately his death wasn't in vain! The Empress was saved and unhurt thanks to his efforts!)

A small statue of Oron (that serves as a monument) lies on Draconis, the planet the colony currently lives on.

Oron has golden retriever energy! He is a very happy and pleasant person in general. He also gets easily excited about things. Many people have noted him as having some kind of "sunshiny aura."

When Oron talks or writes, he almost never uses contractions. There isn't any real known reason for this; it just seems to be a little quirk of his.

He often roams around the Azure Plane aimlessly, looking for opportunities to keep his sword skills sharp (he often practices on trees) or for other things to do to pass the time. Occasionally, an entity known as Mors will appear and speak with him for a while; he always enjoys her company!

One time, Oron was allowed to peek into the living world. He was surprised to see that the landscape had changed drastically. When he asked Mors about it, she stated that his home planet had been destroyed, and that the planet he was now looking at was Draconis. After that, Oron went silent for several days, almost as if he were in a state of mourning.

*Historically, knights did not always follow all the tenets of chivalry, often assaulting peasant women and rich widows as well as abusing their status and power as a knight. That being said, Oron is referred to by this name due to his almost unrealistically ideal nature as a warrior. In other words, he acts just like how a "proper" knight would act, or how knights in fairy tales or other fictional stories/legends would behave.

**The Azure Plane is a place that I can only describe as limbo. It is a hazy, plains-like environment that is devoid of any (intact) structures. Souls who still have unfinished business or unfulfilled wishes are normally transported here. Until their problems are dealt with, they remain in this desolate area, sometimes being driven mad by the isolation.

BONUS INFO!! :DD

Many people in the colony have mixed feelings on Ackley's smoking habit. They're glad that he doesn't do it very often (it takes him like a week to finish a pack; dontcha wish all smokers could be like that? /hj), but they are still very much concerned for his health. Ackley insists that he is fine, but they have their doubts...

Although beings sent to the Azure Plane are often isolated, this isn't to say there isn't ANYONE else around. The Plane is vast; spirits sent here are normally scattered about. It may take a while, but you could potentially run into other souls there.

Time does not pass in the Azure Plane. It is always midday.

Oron has no idea who Ackley is, but I think he would like him :D

Both Ackley and Oron have recurring nightmares about their respective traumatic incidents. :((

[phantom-of-the-ruckus]

Once upon a Midnight Dreary Chapter 4

I'm actually at chapter 7 "Enlocked", but CH5 will be posted next week, so I can have an established posting schedule.

I'll eventually update CH4 to AO3

This takes place around the 1800s, so be aware that some of the reactions are implied to be typical of the period. This does NOT reflect my perspective on mental health.

Previous Chapter

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Library

Chapter 4: Acquaintances 

As far as you can tell, I am clearly not mad. You would even tell me that I was quite sane, and you would be right. Perhaps, too descriptive towards my feelings. Perhaps too biased, and a bit…well…hostile with my narration. I wouldn’t say that you are wrong, nor right about your perspective. I was, and still are in a very dark place in my mind, deep dark, and keeping myself organize makes things easier to remember. 

To be honest, I am not very organized with my feelings. It is easier for me to concentrate into one of the things that I am feeling. It does make it easier for me to tell the tale of what happen, but it partially leaves it monotonous in some aspects. I was feeling a range of different emotions.  

Yes…I was grieving for the death of my father, but I was also furious at the world and the God he believed, that took them away. 

It was a small anger though, a tiny little atom of a complex mixture. A compound, perhaps. It does become hard to tell overtime. 

I don’t often like to let myself divulge into my different thoughts and feelings as I mention the importance of the order, but this particular type of the story makes me divulge into my mind as it did take me a while to open up myself, and I had a lot of conflicted feelings regarding the two people I mentioned previously.

Not romantic feelings. I am not a person who felt any particular attraction at all. I believe I just worked strangely differently when it came towards attraction.

Anyways, this part of the tale started exactly when Dr. Gubberson decided it was time for me to try to socialize more. I admit that I was not particularly thrilled. I was not a person of interacting, but it was necessary to my adaptability upon my stay at the institution. I knew that I had to behave as they expected to me to survive, but I was not comfortable about socializing with those who needed more help than I did.

As much as my father’s murder and my mother’s passing destroyed me. I was a sane woman stuck in a world of those who had it worse than me. I couldn’t bear to feel guilty about being alright to compare to them. It was an injustice I wasn’t thrilled to live with. 

That was the best way I could describe my first day at the recreation center. I was avoidant of any possible eye contact, and I became unease at the groans, and screams of patients being handled by the doctors.  I remember I was feeling I was being watched, and I was actually being watched. Besides by the doctors and guards, making sure I wouldn’t try to escape, but I was being observed by a particular blond woman. A mother, to be precise, that would eventually reach out to me in my second day. 

She was Mrs. Daisy Charlene Danger, age 47. 

Mrs. Danger or Daisy, as she was preferred to be call, took a particular interest on me during my first day.  I am not exactly precise into why I immediately caught her attention, as when I asked Daisy, her response was quite vague. My best guess it was that it was a mother instic she had. Perhaps she was just like my late mother, she was good at ready body language. Perhaps she saw something on my posture or the way my body moved. My mother used could easily tell whenever I was unwell, perhaps it was something she learn from her years as a nurse, or perhaps it was a maternal kick mothers had (as for Daisy was a housewife.)

Either way, I managed to caught her attention for the rest of that first day. She did not approach right then. According to Daisy, she wanted to make a first impression. An early first impression.

“Well hello deary!” That was the first thing I heard when I step into the recreation room. I saw a round woman, certainly older. She had blond hair, and a blue eye. Her left eye was covered in what it looked to be a black rose. A very well painted black rose painted over the eye patch. Her cheeks were rosy, but were covered in dark trips almost as she cried over painted eyes or something. 

I admittedly was startled by her. 

“Mrs. Danger, please, back off.” One of the doctors hissed. Mrs. Danger, or well Daisy, backed up 3 steps. Her eye was sparkling with interest and she was fidgeting with her fingers, which were covered in slightly bloody bandages. 

“Is this a good distance, Dr. Martin?” Her voice was sweet. It was soft and energetic. It was soothing, and quite motherly. 

“There is no way of getting you to step out, is there?” I remember Dr. Martin muttering. It was the first time I saw one of the doctors acting nicely. 

I would come to learn later, that they found it easier to comply with most of the interactions Daisy herself had with the other inmates or doctors. It made her temper calm, and she was pleasant enough for them. I honestly like her both ways…

“Anyways. She’s all yours, Mrs. Danger.” Dr. Martin muttered before releasing me from his grip without a care. I forced himself not to give him a spiteful look there. “Just do be careful, the damozel had a history of aggression or something like that.”

Obviously, you could tell that was a lie…

“Probably some fool getting the black cat wet!” Daisy chuckled at Dr. Martin. He simply rolled his eyes and proceeded to leave the room. Daisy momentary frowned. “Well, that was not nice, was it?”

“It’s what expected in this place…” I found myself muttering. Daisy turned to me with a wide smile while she shook her head. 

“Negativity won’t get you anywhere, dear!” Daisy chuckled. She stared at me momentarily. Her grin never faded. “Yeah, negatively won’t do you good, sweet pea; especially considering you’re just a tiny rosebud.”

I made no comment at this.

“Now, I am well aware the doctors aren’t nice per se, but in just a manner of time you will be calling this place your temporal home.” She beamed. I couldn’t help but sneer. Her positivism sicken me during that time. That was something I would start to regret later in time as I got to know poor Daisy much better. 

Daisy did notice my sneer, but she was rather concerned than bothered by it as she said. “I know it’s hard to adjust to newcomers as yourself, little darling, but I’ll be happy to help you feel more comfortable around this place.”

I became tensed for a moment. I am still surprised that she could tell to this day I was a new to the place when we first met.

“How-” I tried to ask, but Daisy already figure it out what I was trying to say and beat me to the answer.

“It is just easy to tell, dear.” She chuckled. I did not figure out who was new ad who was old. 

She held my hand without a warning. I fought the urge to retrieve it as this was the only decency I received during my stayed. Daisy gently leaded me around. She started to mumble all sort of stuff, that I now regret to fully paying attention. Thankfully, I do recall some important mentions like:

“Don’t worry about hurting my hands. I sometimes get clumsy sewing. Ya know, it took a while for Dr. Gubberson to let me have my sewing kit back!”

And

“I used to own a cat. He was a lovely thing, he’s name was Pluto. He was a young sweet thing, he loved to climb up my husband’s bust of Athena and watch him work. He had a good cat life”

Or

“Oh, I have a daughter, you know? She’s just 10 years. You remind me of her darling.”

I was 26 years of age if you were curious. I did look older due to the circumstances I had to deal with. 

“Oh!” Daisy seemingly stopped in the middle of her mumbling.  I stared at her. Not sure what was going on in her head, but apparently she was trying to remember something. “I need to introduce you to my good friend Nicholas! He was interned here just a year ago, I am sure you would love him!”

And that was how I was introduced to Nicholas Nathaniel Nack, age 24. 

Daisy dragged me across the recreation room. She was moving rather quickly due to her excitement. I was not particularly eager to start off immediately my interaction with my inmates this fast. I was planning into observe and find the best way to interact, but I am thankful that Daisy helped me foil my plans as you would eventually see later in this tragic tale. 

“Nicholas! Nicholas!” Daisy called. A young man with a messy, dirty brown hair turned around. His face was covered with band-aids. He, however, looked rather tired and annoyed at Daisy. 

“Daisy, when would you stop mothering every young person you see?” Nicholas huffed before returning to his plate. I noticed he was painting with his food. It was a portrait of some red mysterious looking man and a clock behind him.

“Don’t be jealous, Nick!” Daisy chuckled. I simply stared, trying to figure out of the situation. Nick simply narrowed his eyes at her. “I just found a new face around here. She appears to be in the need of some good company.”

“So, Dr. Gubberson also decided to sent her to the recreation room…” Nick Nack remarked 

“Nicholas!” Daisy frowned 

“It’s the true, isn’t it?” He asked giving me a glance. His eyes quickly shifted away when we his purplish blue yes met mine. I simply nodded.

“Well, I’ll take this as an opportunity to built upon friendships.” Daisy declared. She gestured one of the seats as she said. “Do take a seat, my dear.”

“Thank you…” I muttered as I took a seat. Daisy sat next to me. I could feel the atmosphere becoming heavier at that moment. 

“Isn’t she a darling?” Daisy chuckled as she accommodate in her seat. Nick imitated himself to just stare.  I lowered my head, wishing the visit was over. Daisy, however, decided to make the most out of what remaining time we have. “Oh, I was too excited to remember to introduce myself.”

“When are you not?” Nick sneered. Daisy ignored his comment.

“Let’s make it interesting. Let’s say our name what was our occupation before we got interned.” Daisy beamed. “I’ll start! My name is Daisy Charlene Danger. I was a wife before being interned into the psychiatric institution two years ago.” She stared at Nick. 

Sighing, Nick introduced himself. “Nicholas Nathaniel Nack. I was a painter before being interned here.”

All eyes were shifted upon me. I had to choose but to introduce myself. “I am Riley Anne Ruckus. I….I was going to become a Nurse.”

There was a brief silence. Nick looked startled while Daisy simply smiled. They recognized my last name…

“Ruckus? Like the doctor that was murdered a few months ago?” Nick asked. I lowered my head. Tears were threatened to leave my eyes.

My dear poor father…who could have done this to you?

“Nicholas!” Daisy scolded the young man.

“Sorry, it was just familiar…” Nick apologized with a sneer. Daisy turned towards me. It was the first time I ever saw her sad. 

“Was he…related to you somehow?” Daisy asked. I nodded.

“Yes…He was my father…” I muttered. My lips trembling as I was holding back the urge of crying. I could see them lifeless corpse once again in front of me…that fateful night…

“Ermm…Sorry…I didn’t mean to refresh your memory.” Nick apologized softly. He was blushing with embarrassment 

“It doesn’t matter anymore…”I said, whipping off the tears that left my eyes. Daisy pursed her lips while Nick looked away embarrassed and ashamed. 

“it Is alright if you wish to cry, my dear.” Daisy said as she patted my shoulder. Her right eye was glimmering. It looked almost if she wanted to cry as well. “No need to push our emotions. If you need an embrace or some sort I am available, or we could-”

“I…I think I need some time alone.” I excused my self as I rose from my sit, bowing my head to hide the growing tears running from my face. Then I walked off without even saying goodbye. 

I cried the rest of the day in my room, muttering my father's name.

[senkuplushie]

Doctober--Prompts 2+3!!

        The prompts for this one were Haunted and Stone! I decided to combine them because I was struggling to come up with ideas for either one of them alone. There is a teeeensy bit of sengen, but it's very minor (Gen gets rejected, anyway), and the scene with it ends pretty quickly--it's literally so insignificant that you could skip it and you wouldn't really miss anything from the plot, if you aren't a fan of the ship; it's really just to help the story flow a little better. Also, feel free to make fun of my inability to write a paragraph longer than two lines, lmao

        TRIGGER WARNINGS: Blood, what probably counts as bodily mutilation (?), dismemberment, angsty, implied symptoms of PTSD, sorta implied suicidal thoughts near the end (?)

        It was a shame nobody yet knew the truth of the petrification. Senku's clever theories weren't entirely false, but there was another aspect to it which nobody seemed to notice.

        What emerged from the stone prison wasn't truly a person's whole being.

        Gen knew it must have been terrible when he heard the scientist, someone who was normally so composed and seemingly unemotional, choke repeatedly on his own words.

        Truthfully, the mentalist didn't have the slightest idea of what had happened. The only thing he'd managed to take from the villagers' panicked screaming was that someone--a woman, if he remembered correctly--had been hurt in some manner. Considering the way almost everyone in the village seemed to be gathered around the hut, Gen assumed the injuries must've been severe. As it turned out, "severe" was quite a bit of an understatement.

        Unaware of what he was about to see, Gen made his way through the small crowd and curiously poked his head into the doorway.

        Now, Gen was never an incredibly squeamish person. Prior to the petrification event, he didn't even mind watching or reading a bit of bloody horror every once in a while. Seeing something so gut-wrenching directly in front of him, though, was obviously a different story.

        Lying on the center of the floor was whom Gen believed was Ruby, albeit with multiple wide gashes across her stomach.

        Gen understood why everyone he'd seen was so confused and panicked. The slashes looked as if they were inflicted by a wild animal--one with vicious claws. Having such a dangerous creature close to such a primitive village was reasonably terrifying.

        Unsurprisingly, Senku had already crouched down beside the body and begun to observe it. The scientist seemed so much less shaken that everybody else, as always, but even he was visibly concerned.

      "Looks like an animal did it. I can't find evidence of anything else at the moment," he spoke more steadily. "Thing is, I can't see how something big enough to do this kinda damage wouldn't have woken either of you. It doesn't make sense that it would've just killed her and left you two alone, either."

        "I never h--I never even heard... her scream...!" one of the other sisters cried out as Senku turned his attention to her.

        Sapphire's response only intensified the anger among the crowd. The latter had begun to jeer at her, accusing the two remaining sisters of using sorcery to summon an evil creature of some sort. Even a few of the children had joined in, though most of them merely clung to their parents' arms out of fear.

        Gen didn't show much of a reaction, though such a sight definitely shook him quite a bit. He didn't hesitate to walk away as soon as his legs felt somewhat less shaky.

        It was rather sad these people had not the slightest idea their village, their world, their lives, were all about to unravel directly in front of their eyes.

        Night by night, at least one person--occasionally two--was torn apart in an increasingly vicious manner. Villagers were dropping like flies, and within two weeks, dangerously close to half of the population had suffered a similar fate to that of poor, innocent Ruby. Even Senku couldn't find a single clue of why this was happening.

        "Heh... How exhilarating. Yet another phenomenon to figure out," Senku chuckled, that usual bit of fascination in his carmine eyes.  "Except this one is even more urgent, and therefore even more exciting."

        The mentalist inhaled sharply. Sure, everyone was on edge, but it still wasn't a great time to snap--especially when close to your entire personality was built around being an emotionally stable and reliable source of advice and intel.

        "I must say, dear Senku, people are being ruthlessly torn apart by the day... and you're seriously taking advantage of the predicament--by making it into a fun little puzzle for your own enjoyment, even worse?"

        Gen's amused expression heavily contradicted the veins that throbbed in his neck. Regardless, he continued to give Senku his famous "television smile", as he didn't plan on putting any more pressure on neither himself nor the other. 

        Though, of course... If either Senku or Gen were unlucky enough to end up being one of the victims of that night, it's not like any of that would've mattered in the slightest.

        "You seriously think I'm thrilled about the deaths? I'm interested in the actual mystery, dumbass. It's just like the petrification; I'm not overjoyed that the fucking entirety of humanity was turned to stone. I'm just intrigued by everything we don't know about it yet."

        "I'm aware of that part, but..." Gen held back a scowl as Senku casually turned around to face his desk. "My point is, you're practically disregarding these deaths as if they're nothing to you. I know y--I know you're not an emotional person, not by any means, but you haven't shown a little bit of sympathy after... what is it... at least twenty deaths? Of completely innocent people?"

        The aforementioned scientist breathed a sigh of exasperation while pulling his gloves a bit further up his arms. "Look, I get it; I know it's a tragic thing--I did bond with some of them and feel some of that sappy shit--but do you really expect me to sit around all the time, sulking and bawling, when we need to get a metric ton of things done? How am I supposed to figure any of this out to prevent any more of these murders when I'm so distraught that I can hardly think?"

        "I never said a word about you having to sit around and cry! You just never seem to give a shit about any of those poor people...!" Gen quipped, unknowingly allowing a hint of irritation to slip into his voice.

        "Did you not hear any of what I said? I do feel some of that stupid grieving shit. I just--"

        "Yes, I did! It's just that I haven't seen you look upset for even a second! You've been so insensitive to everyone, and..."

        Gen's voice faltered as he began to take notice of how still Senku stood; even his hands didn't dare to move a single millimeter. Not until then did the elder of the pair realize how strong his words might have been.

        Suddenly much more aware of how much he had allowed his irritation to control him, the mentalist let out a deep breath which he had no idea he was even holding. His shoulders sunk a bit as he stepped closer to the inventor. Though, before he could say a word, Gen felt his heart drop at the sudden sound of Senku slamming his hand onto the table.

        "Well, maybe that wouldn't be the case if people wouldn't act like the world is ending whenever I show a trace of emotion! I can't even sigh without people freaking out about how something's gotta be terribly wrong!" Senku blurted, doubling Gen's anxiety.

       "..." A soft sigh made its way past Gen's lips as his sympathy began to show through. "I know, dear Senku. It's not good for any of us to push away our emotions, but... It really does feel necessary sometimes, doesn't it?"

       "Obviously," replied Senku, that unchanging bit of annoyance in his voice.

       For just a fleeting moment, Gen could spot a glisten in his eyes, and the former only began to feel even worse about what he'd said. A part of him instinctively wanted to apologize, but he knew very well such things meant virtually nothing to someone like Senku.

       Gen began to stare at the floor in embarrassment, but the very first thought in his head was telling him to avoid doing anything of the sort. At that point, dropping his act of fake confidence felt like exposing himself to the entire world. Letting a single person see him vulnerable made the mentalist wonder if he was just setting himself up to be taken advantage of in some manner. However, he knew one of the best ways to make another person--Senku, in this case--feel safe and unthreatened, was to appear as if he himself felt secure and content with being vulnerable.

       "Well?" the scientist eventually spoke with his arms crossed impatiently. "Well, are you gonna get out of here now? Or are you just gonna keep standing there and distracting me?"

       The older of the two sighed again. "I'm not leaving yet, dear Senku. I know you'll start overworking yourself again the moment I do."

       "Fine, but if you aren't gonna let me work, then the least you can do is stay quiet."

       After a moment of hesitation, Gen nodded silently. The last thing he wanted was to bother Senku any more than he already had, so he merely began to lean against the wall beside him and pick at his fingernails.

       Senku sat back down in front of the table and laid his head on his arms, though he appeared anything but relaxed. Unsurprisingly, he began to look as if he was thinking deeply about something important--most likely the murders, Gen supposed. The latter couldn't help but watch him with a bit of fascination; Gen found it interesting to observe the thought processes of such an intelligent man. A genius such as Senku couldn't have thought of all his unique solutions and inventions by simply considering something for a moment, after all.

       For the most part, Senku's expression didn't change. All he seemed to do was occasionally glance at Gen to see if he was still standing in the same spot. He didn't say a word, either--at least, not until almost ten minutes had passed, and Gen had forgotten that Senku could see him.

       "Damn it, mentalist, what is it?"

       Gen continued to stare at him, genuinely confused. "Hm?"

       Senku facepalmed. "Why the fuck have you been staring at me for the past ten minutes and twenty-four seconds? Do you have something to say? Just spit it out already."

       "...No."

       The mentalist obviously wasn't going to speak of it, but what Senku said had given him an idea--a very unfortunate one which Senku would have definitely deemed illogical.

       Mimicking Gen's previous sighs, Senku exhaled heavily. "Well, shit, Gen. What happened to your lying abilities? Are you sure that you aren't just a nervous schoolgirl wanting to confess to me behind the school building?"

       Gen gulped. Damn it, he knew dropping his act for even a minute was risky.

       "Absolutely not," he replied a bit more firmly as his gaze began to return to that of Senku's. "I don't have the slightest idea of what would make you think something so silly."

       The scientist quirked a brow. "Really?"

       "..." Gen went nearly dead silent again, uncertain of how to respond with more than a barely-audible "yes". A drop of sweat rolled down the side of his cheek, which had already flushed a deep pink.

       "Fine, fine," Senku snickered. "But you obviously have something to say, mentalist. It's starting to piss me off, watching you stand there like an anxious little kid without saying anything."

Of course, Senku wasn't wrong--not at all. That one stupid idea had made Gen unbelievably tempted to tell him everything. As difficult as it was to believe, Gen could think of a few benefits to doing so; although, they were obviously outweighed by the downsides.

        Gen stirred a bit where he stood, knowing damn well that there was close to no positive outcome of him admitting it. All he could imagine was how much awkwardness, embarrassment, and even pain it was almost certainly going to cause for both him and the scientist. Regardless, Gen's racing heart and brand-new impulsivity ended up getting the best of him as he ever-so-quietly said, "...Fine. Yes, I love you, Senku-chan. I have for an etty-pray long time now."

        Senku's reaction was... surprising, to say the least.

        "...Tch."

        For at least a minute, Senku reverted to being completely silent. He didn't move, nor did he look even slightly upset--in fact, there was such a lack of any emotions in his expression that it was a bit concerning. One could even say he was acting like he'd never heard the other speak about the topic which he seemed so disgusted and annoyed by.

        In fact, he had begun to look rather relaxed and purely unemotional.

        Too unemotional.

        Much too unemotional--even for someone so composed and logical.

        Gen couldn't help but notice that Senku seemed... empty, in a way. No, not "empty" in the same manner as some were--not devoid of love and hope as a result of past trauma, nor borderline-nihilistic as a result of what people often referred to as "the cruelty and selfishness of society". Rather, he seemed to be literally hollow, much like a porcelain doll or a statue.

        The mentalist gulped. He knew how strongly Senku felt about the subject of romance, but he had no idea that hearing about it would have practically petrified him again.

        "Oh... My apologies," Gen spoke as he stepped back from Senku and avoided his unblinking, unfeeling eyes. "I didn't know you were that awkward about it, my dear Senku."

        For a moment, the younger continued to stand still and stare off into the middle of nowhere. He seemed to snap out of it rather quickly once Gen began to approach him, much to the mentalist's relief. Senku began to smile surprisingly warmly, the two locks of hair that hung over his face blowing slightly to the left as a result of the wind that blew in from the doorway, as he stepped closer to Gen and chuckled quietly. The latter laughed, thanks to a combination of anxiety and semi-humorous surprise.

        Senku then quietly asked him, "Seriously, though? You really aren't playing some kinda prank on me, Gen? 'Cuz that seems like something that a guy like you would do."

        His smile only grew as he watched the blush on Gen's face deepen.

        "Yes, dear Senku. That was..." Gen stammered a bit, worried that he might've made himself too vulnerable again. "...That was, indeed, one of my rare moments of honesty. I-I mean, I know saying that just makes me sound even more suspicious, but--"

        "I get it," Senku interrupted while impatiently tossing his lab gloves to the side.

        Grinning, he lightly patted Gen's shoulder in what the latter could only assume was an attempt at being reassuring, though it felt a bit forced and almost encroaching. "Heh... now, this is just perfect."

        Perfect? A spark of hope lit a tiny, figurative fire in Gen's chest. How could he be happy about this...? There's no way he could feel the same way about me. He's too busy, he finds it illogical, and he'd never confess to it in such a dire situation.

Regardless, Gen kept his voice calm and steady, not wanting to break character again--much less so in front of someone whom he had just made himself so possibly susceptible to.

        "Oh?" he uttered, a small smile finding its way back onto his lips. "Perfect? And why would that be?"

        "Because, Gen..."

        It wasn't until now that the aforementioned mentalist noticed how the scientist's eyes seemed to glow just a bit more brightly than they typically did--even in the almost pitch-black darkness of midnight.

        It wasn't until he felt a stabbing pain tear through his back that he realized how swiftly Senku moved, or how his nails seemed to have grown at a rate no real human's possibly could have.

        "Such feelings of 'love' tend to cause illogical thinking..."

        Gen drew in a sharp breath, yet before he could've had a chance to process the pain he'd just felt, something had aggressively dug into his abdomen. The last thing he managed to clearly see was Senku's vicious smile before tears of both shock and pain blurred his vision. The last thing he managed to see at all was a pale, blurry shape which he could only assume was his own arm before the weapon sliced across both of his widened eyes.

        "...and, therefore, vulnerability."

        Hardly even a squeak managed to escape Gen's mangled throat as he unwillingly allowed himself to be torn apart in such a ruthless manner, completely powerless to stop it--and to make it even worse, it was all by the man whom he deemed his closest friend. He found it unbelievable that his heart continued to beat through it all. Or, at least, he would have if his mind wasn't clouded so heavily with agony. That wasn't going to be the case for too much longer, of course.

        "These idiotic village people, even the ones that are supposed to be 'modern'... They're all so fucking stupid and gullible. I almost can't believe this dumb one's still holding on."

        As Senku walked away, the only thing the mentalist (although, there was no way he was going to consider himself such a thing after being so clueless) could do was weakly gasp for air. At that point, it wasn't something he did voluntarily; in fact, Gen would've strongly preferred to put an end to it entirely. It was merely something his brain forced his body to do, even when it had already been put through hell and simply wanted to give out forever.

        Just let me die already... I'm too weak for any of this...

-----------

        "Agh, what the fuck-?"

        The scientist rose his head wearily, though the soreness in his neck gave him the strong urge to flop back down and fall back asleep. In fact, close to his entire body was aching so badly that it felt as if he had just run an entire marathon. It likely didn't help that for a reason currently out of Senku's comprehension, he'd woken up on the ground in one of the most uncomfortable positions he could ever imagine.

        As his half-lidded eyes scanned the area, Senku realized he was almost directly behind the lab. Only a brief moment later did he pick up on an all-too-familiar smell that came from it.

        Senku felt his stomach turn. In the past few days, he'd already seen more than enough gore to last him a lifetime. He was never a squeamish person beforehand, but thanks to the trauma-inducing things he'd witnessed recently, the scientist felt as if seeing one more drop of blood was going to make him vomit on the spot. Of course, he was aware that it was going to be impossible to avoid seeing at least a bit of gore on his journey to restore humanity, so he knew he'd have to deal with this problem somehow.

        In an attempt to ignore both his fear the rancid smell of what he just knew had to be a rotting corpse, Senku attempted to reflect on the previous night's events, wishing to know what had made his muscles so sore and exhausted. So... Gen got pissy with me, we resolved it, he confessed to me in the lab like a middle school girl, I turned him down not-so-subtly, I went to bed because I was exhausted as fuck... and... His thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of a shiver running down his spine, which caused the inventor to realize he wasn't even wearing the outer layer of his coat while lying in at least one centimeter of snow.

        Though, before Senku could decide to try and find the aforementioned item, he felt his heart lurch as he made an awful connection in his mind.

       "...Gen!"

        Appalled by the possibility of one of his closest friends being the previous night's kill, Senku jumped up as quickly as he could manage and took off toward the front of the laboratory.

        Needless to say, his suspicions were confirmed quite quickly. The moment Senku entered the building, he was met with the sight of a heavily mutilated corpse which he could hardly even tell was once Gen.

        Senku hadn't even eaten a crumb since he'd woken up, yet he was still greeted by the familiar feeling of food stirring in his stomach. Just as everyone had expected, the murders were obviously becoming more and more gruesome--not to mention crueler and more meticulous--every night. Yes, the previous killings had been more than disgusting and excessively filthy enough, but this... It was something indescribable, to say the least. 

        As the scientist slowly made his way to what was once Gen, the only thing that prevented the former from fleeing and leaving it for someone else to discover was the feeling of shock seemingly nullifying almost everything he felt. The sight of the mentalist's wide-open eyes, yet devoid of any life, staring at him in terror was becoming too much for even Senku to handle. Although, regardless of the lump in his throat, he proceeded to kneel down beside Gen as he began to examine his visible injuries.

        Though, there wasn't much left of Gen to observe. The disregarded extremities and multiple organ-like masses lying around him were quite a reasonable explanation of why that was the case.

        It wasn't much longer until the feeling of sickening nausea became too strong for Senku to handle, however. Normally, he would have tried his best to push it aside and stay focused, but it was obvious that he wasn't going to be capable of walking even semi-steadily soon enough. As much as he wanted to act like seeing Gen in such a state had no effect on him, Senku knew that continuing to push himself was an awful idea.

        "Gen..."

      Gah... I'll just go tell someone about it, I can't deal with this shit right now...

        Despite Senku's typically stoic attitude, he couldn't help but look at the gruesome sight with a bit of pity as he shakily stepped away. It wasn't until he stumbled around the corner that he noticed something which somehow happened to be even worse. Directly outside of the laboratory was the outer layer of his own coat, which had been tied messily around his waist the previous night, splattered with blood.

------------------

        Gah, this ended up being so rushed… especially the conversation and attack scenes T__T I know there's no way Gen would've allowed himself to crack that easily, let alone when it comes to that sort of information, but I've somehow been working on this trash for a month and was desperate to get something done, lmao. There's an infuriating number of plot holes, too, and the ending is somehow even worse, but I'm struggling to care right now, lol

[on-stained-glass-wings]

Headcanon: Miquella and His Post-Mohg Trauma

Just because Miquella (halfway) achieved his goal of becoming both older and a full god doesn’t mean he isn’t dealing with the trauma of his time ‘visiting’ the Mohgwyn Dynasty. While being mentally and physically in his mid to late 10s (14-16) helps with the processing, it doesn’t help that he lacks the coping mechanisms most people get by growing naturally, AND he’s also dealing with teenager hormones/emotions. Wheeeee.

Anyways, things Miquella does now that he’s free from Mohg:

Suffer from night terrors and sleep paralysis! His dream ventures as Saint Trina grow even more frequent following his return, not only because he’s more powerful, but because being in the dreams of others means he avoids his own dreams. This only works when he’s awake/energized enough to have some measure of control over his dreams. When he doesn’t...let’s just say he gave up trying to hide his night terrors from Malenia, and he currently sleeps as often in her bed as he did when he was smaller, if only because she’s the only one that can calm him down and make him feel safe when he wakes up being unable to move his limbs.

Constantly scrub/pick at his skin! Even though he was asleep, Miquella was well aware of the sensation of being bathed in profane blood/Mohg’s literal blood essence, and so he’s extremely hypersensitive to tactile sensory input as a result. Not only that, but he frequently gets tactile flashbacks of the sensation of blood bathing and drying his skin, and it gets bad enough that he wants to throw up. If he’s near water, he’ll wash something on his body and feel better, even if it’s just his hands. If he’s not, he’ll pick at his skin, which ranges from light, tic-like behavior to full on clawing if he’s in a panic.

Have a flight-or-fight response whenever he’s around a significant quantity of blood! Lemme tell you, that’s inconvenient when you moonlight as a healer/the fantasy version of a biomechanical engineer, but it doesn’t change the fact that Miquella now has a visceral response to blood. It can range in severity from having the heeby-jeeby creepy-crawlies to literally freezing up in terror.

Startle/panic whenever he’s touched unexpectedly or without his consent! The source of this is pretty obvious. If someone that’s not his sister touches Miquella without his permission, he’ll react suddenly and with a varying degree of violence, either shoving the offending hand(s) away or physically propelling himself away from the offending party. If someone puts their hands on him or grabs him without him knowing, he will literally shriek in terror and panic, which will bring Malenia in with all of her wrath and rage. So...don’t do that.

Get really, really awkward and uncomfortable whenever someone talks about marriage or weddings! Again, pretty self-explanatory. He doesn’t freak out intensely, but he will get very uncomfortable and will attempt to change the subject as soon as it’s politely possible. If he can’t, he’ll make an excuse to leave.

Freak out if he wakes up in a strange place and Malenia isn’t around! He’s close enough to Finlay that he’ll calm down when she soothes him, but he’s still going to be shaky and nervous until he sees his sister again.

Avoid tight, enclosed spaces at all costs! Congrats, Mohg; you ruined a perfectly good god. Look at him; you gave him claustrophobia. Miquella is definitely going to have to undergo future metamorphoses in shorter spurts because he cannot stand the thought of wrapping himself back into a cocoon.

[to0needy]

not being able to kill myself is the worst feeling

[dying-weeds]

I feel like it's not talked enough about how SA really strips you of your identity. Like someone violates your basic humanity and you're left to deal with the aftermath of having everything you are as a person taken away from you. It makes you feel subhuman.

[it-never-gets-better]

MY BODY TURNED INTO A CORPSE WHEN YOU TOUCHED IT VIOLENTLY.

[rottenn-angel]

I’m so tired of sleep not being safe.

[lunameimei]

"Maybe you're on top now. But sometimes, even after death, you still can't just cut out everything that happened at the bottom."

comic continuation below under cut

TW ‼️ PTSD, Implied abuse (please be careful 🙏)

Important Note (!)

I am not trying to defend or make anyone look better. “Bad experience” may be an explanation, but not an excuse. If you don't like this ship/HC/art, you can always block/ignore my acct/hashtag. This is fine. Do what is good for your health, but don't attack others.

That's all.

[traumatizedjaguar]

“The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling."

- Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace.

[tobusysinking]

“But he was just a child”

So was I

And I’m suffering and he’s not

[betweenmee]

I woke up again just to wish I didn’t…

[oa-x]

[venus-in-hell]

[to0needy]

my christmas list:

-access to a high rooftop/bridge

-thick rope

-random meds

-blades

-poison

[dying-weeds]