#brainwashing tw

[ohmaerieme]

sighs heavily. so i have been listening to melanie martinez’s spider web

[lovenpeace-pkmn]

I'm sorry, I have not been paying very close attention and I am not sure I'm understanding the situation correctly, but...are there legendary Pokémon brainwashing people into acting like some kind of royal court?

...

[psychic-type-appreciator]

It is a little concerning that they've still not remembered a lot when you remembered quickly... maybe it has to do with them being a god??

...mm well. Magearna also messed with them a lot more than she messed with me.

Like...a total mind bend. I just lost a lot of the surface memories. Konnie was like...completely brainwashed.

[proudfreakmetarusonniku]

uhhh I kinda went crazy with this. might edit it for ao3 in the morrow bc I love it that much. the allium duo joint exile fic

tw: abuse, kidnapping, injuries, suicidal ideation, self hate, manipulation, brainwashing, vomiting, ableism (either unintentional or solely as a manipulation tool), mutilation, starvation, possessive behaviour, obsession, threats

it's raining, when they’re exiled.

ranboo has his suit jacket pulled over his head and when droplets slip through to the tips of his claws he hisses and jitters. sometimes, it looks like he'll almost disappear and reappear, like the endermen he so resembled, but instead he falls to the ground with a pained screech, the calves of his feet burning on impact with the sodden ground where his skirt isn’t long enough to protect.

still gripping painfully onto tommy's arm, dream slowly walks back to where he fell, and hits him with the butt of his axe. the screech of pain is distorted, almost otherworldly, and it’d be terrifying if it wasn’t so fucking sad.

“get up,” he hisses. “or i'll fucking kill you, and then-“

dream doesn’t have to finish his sentence. shakingly, ranboo gets onto their talons, wincing as they try and match the brutal pace dream immediately sets back on.

(he'd tried to save ranboo. he really had. he'd said it was all him, he lied, but ranboo had confessed, trying to get him out of this mess, and now he was in it too.)

(tommy wants to be sick.)

he’s not quite sure when and why things happen. they’re on a boat at one point, cramped and barely afloat. water sinks in and burns the bottom of ranboo's feet. there’s shouting after that. an explosion. a beach. tommy drags a shaking ranboo under a tree to keep the rain from falling on him. more shouting. more explosions. pain.  blood on his collarbone. pain pain pain. blurring vision.

tommy drags himself under the tree and curls up next to ranboo and hopes he'll fucking bleed to death.

——

it rains far too much in logstedshire.

that is what tommy names it, the logs tell him too. they send their messages from the primes. maybe, if he listens, they'll accept him despite his sins.

he doubts it. he doesn’t deserve it.

he dug a den on the first day, for ranboo to hide under, but even the dirt under there grew too damp and after tending to burns all across his face, he'd spent what energy he had left with the aching scars and bruises and gnawing hunger in his gut to hang up a tent. it's only big enough for one of them, but that's okay. tommy doesn’t mind sleeping on the beach.

(it allows him to pretend maybe the tides will come in and he won’t wake up at all).

he pinches himself. dream wouldn’t like him having those thoughts.

honestly, tommy isn't sure what dream likes. it’s not like he and ranboo were stupid enough to break the rules- they’d learnt that painfully over the first week. it just seems like dream always favours the one of them, and who that was switched on a dime. one day, he'd bring ranboo chocolate (watching him like a hawk to prevent him giving any of it to tommy) and hit tommy for daring to look at him. another, he'd spend all day hanging out with tommy and shout at ranboo until he cried when he so much as said a word.

it was easy to resent ranboo, sometimes. when he got hugs and gifts and food and got to spend the day playing around instead of being forced to mine. but tommy remembers the times where dream extended that kindness to him and remembered how awful it made him feel when ranboo was being treated like shit. it was almost worse.

he just tries harder to be good. if he's good maybe he'll be able to get dream to stop. if dream likes them both maybe everything would be okay.

it never is.

——

when ranboo shows tommy his memory book for the first time, he really is sick.

which is annoying, because he'd only had scraps ranboo had hidden today, but fuck. it was bad.

tommy could recognise dream's handwriting from a mile away. even if he couldn’t, the pages blatantly ripped out would give the game away, along with what was in the book.

“my name is ranboo,” the first line read. “my home is logstedshire. my best friend dream keeps me and my friend tommy safe here. l'manberg kicked us out so dream is helping. if we follow dream's rules to protect us everything will be okay…”

ranboo rubs tommy's back, as gently as they can. “are you okay? are you sick? i'll ask dream for a potion.”

tommy shakes his head weakly. “no, it's…”

he can’t fucking break this spell for ranboo, though. his throat dries up when he tries. ranboo was always the happier of the two, excited in a way that was almost funny in each passing day. it was like ranboo had become the loud, excitable one and tommy had grown quieter and more distant.

and this was why. he didn’t have a fucking clue what was wrong, did he? he's happy because he thinks this is safe, thinks this is normal. and maybe it's selfish of tommy but prime he wishes he could live in that fantasy land where he doesn’t know it’s not normal for your best friend to hit you and starve you and never explain why. at least one of them should get to live that life.

“nowt. just hungry.”

ranboo furrows his brow in concern. “i'll be good today, then.”

tommy feels sicker at that. dream had started switching from his weird hot and cold game to being… nice. usually. it was weird, at first, but it was alright. dream was a good friend, even if he wasn’t as cool as ranboo. but the thing was, it was even worse when they actually fucked up.

they wouldn’t be hurt at all. dream wouldn’t change a thing with them. it was always the other who bore the full weight. no food, no privileges, any sort of thing they’d earned the right to keep taken away. if it was more serious, then they’d be hit, or shouted at, and dream still sometimes used the axe. they’d be abandoned to tend to themselves and do the tedious work of survival while the one who actually fucked up would have the guilt eat up at them as dream chatted like everything was normal.

ranboo forgot to make armour to destroy yesterday. a grievous enough sin, apparently, that now tommy's still smarting bruises.

he's not stupid. he knows that isn’t right. he likes dream, it’s better to have him as a friend than a jail or and he was pretty sure he was trying to help, but what dream does to them isn't okay.

but ranboo doesn’t need fo be burdened by that knowledge. they, at least, deserve happiness, even if it is fake.

——

ranboo moans in pain as tommy finishes up bandaging the stumps where his tails once lay.

he can still smell the enchantment on dream's axe, hanging in the air like pollen. it almost drowns out the stench of blood and the ash of the ruins around them. he’s not sure which is worse.

it’s all tommy's fault. it has to be. he tried to pretend like he could own things, and he knew ranboo would bear the brunt of that punishment. dream had just done what he always had done.

“it's okay, big man, it’s okay,” tommy tries to soothe, running fingers through the overgrown mop of hair that almost reached down to ranboo's waist. he just flinches more.

tommy just screwed everything up, didn’t he?

a week. that was what dream had said. he'd visit in a week, to watch them. until then, it was all tommy's responsibility to take care of ranboo, and he wasn’t sure he could. there was just so much blood.

he shudders, thinking about what dream will do to him if ranboo dies on them. being without his best friend was bad enough, but dream could make anything worse.

tommy sobs, trying to keep the tears from landing on ranboo's already scarred and tattered skin the best he can. he fails, and the faint smell of burning flesh joins the horrible mix and ranboo lets out another faint moan.

if dream could see him now. he'd always been there to watch over them, and what if when he came back to watch, there was only one of them left?

“well, watch me now,” tommy mumbles to the air. he was meant to be there to watch them.

watch them. watch them. that sits wrong. he's meant to be their friend, right?

“you were only here to watch us.”

tommy mouths it more than speaking it, but it feels like a proclamation. he was only there to watch them. just watch. he wasn’t their friend. he didn’t care about making them better. what he cares about is watching them.

and then what? would he even care if ranboo died?

would he kill him himself?

“ranboo.” tommy hisses. “can you stand?”

“tommy?” ranboo slurs, eyes half open.

“ranboo! fuckin'- this is important, okay?”

“i- i think so-“

“okay, then this is what you’re going to do, big man. there’s a cabin through the snow that way.” tommy points vaguely in the direction of techno's place. “there’s more bandages there than i have. i want you to run there, as fast as you can, and not look back.”

“but-“

“i don’t know how to do this,” tommy admits. “i've dealt with shit before but never like this. if you have those supplies you'll at least have a chance of surviving. now go, before you die.”

“but dream-“

tommy's throat constricts. “i'll explain. he'll understand. he's our friend, right?”

ranboo nods, before stumbling up to his feet, limping across the ruins towards the vague direction of the tundra. tommy whispers a silent prayer to the primes that he’ll make it. that at least one of them will survive.

ranboo deserves it more than him, at least.

——

dream, unfortunately, did not kill tommy. if only he’d be that merciful.

he pretends it’s mercy. he pretends to be concerned and he treats tommy with condescending kindness until he doesn’t. then, tommy sometimes swears he does die, but when he's better dream is even more smothering and the cycle continues.

he’s not stupid. tommy knows why he does it. he wanted two pawns, and if he lost one he'd do anything to keep the other. nothing personal.

it's easier to see it like that, at least. it's hard, sometimes. but it's easier.

dream does not call the room he’s in a cell, but it is. it’s in a prison, and he's locked in most of the day. the baby-blue wallpaper and fuzzy carpet he'd installed hadn’t changed that, nor had swapping out the sparse furniture for a million blankets and decor more suitable for someone half tommy's age. he almost misses the dark obsidian and lava- at least that didn’t treat him like a child.

because even if sixteen was a child- he could admit to that now, because ranboo was certainly just a child- what tommy had gone through had undoubtedly aged him out of that.

they train, sometimes. on days where dream doesn’t panic when tommy has so much as a paper cut, or on days when he's not beating tommy's head into the wall. sometimes, tommy helps repair dream's endless supply of cloaks. sometimes, he cleans blood off of dream's weapons and tries not to think about how it got there.

(sometimes it’s his, and that’s easier.)

dream, in almost paternal tones, calls tommy his protege. under his breath, tommy calls himself a glorified servant.

every day, his thoughts drift to ranboo. his kind smile, the scars that ran jagged lines over his entire body, how absurd he looked in his half-ripped suit and tiara, trying to keep his hair in an orderly braid and failing miserably. dream would help sometimes, if it was a good day. dream insists on braiding tommy's hair the same way now, and tommy almost wonders if he misses him too before he reminds himself that dream does not care for either of them at all, because the alternative is worse.

(either way, it’s clear tommy would be the favourite. dream says as much, saying how thankful he is that tommy is the one that stayed because he was far more fun and ranboo was boring. tommy reminds himself it’s a lie and it makes him feel less sick.)

maybe ranboo is dead. part of him hopes he is. that way, he was free. the primes would surely guide his way, and he'd be granted the happiness he deserved. fuck, even if they didn’t, there couldn’t be anything worse than this.

could there?

——

tommy doesn’t know how long he spends in the prison before dream decides to take him out on his “first mission.”

which is a meeting. of fucking course it is. because tommy’s mission has always to be a glorified page, hasn’t it.

tommy skims his fingers over the waters edge absently as dream rows. maybe they’re leaving the server. maybe if they didn’t tommy could make his own escape. if he sank to the bottom it’d be deep enough no one could save him in time, if he were to jump. and if dream didn't constantly shift from looking at the ocean to tommy, clearly aware of the same possibility.

dream always got so fucking mad if he tried to die and failed, so it was best to make sure that the opportunity wouldn’t fail.

they stop too quickly to have gone far. idly, tommy wonders how far they must be from-

logstedshire.

the ruins lie there, same as always. tommy hadn’t noticed how bloodstained those ruins are until now, red and green.

the skeletal remains of two tails still lay on the floor, undisrupted.

“what the fuck.” tommy says under his breath. “what the fuck.”

“aww, didn’t you like the surprise?” dream laughs, and tommy immediately prepares for the worst. “chill out, i'm kidding. you act like i'm gonna kill you. we're obviously not here for this, we're going to see techno.”

tommy feels an equal amount of hope and fear bloom in his chest at that. techno's cabin was this way. and if it was, then maybe…

suddenly determined, tommy walks as quickly as he can, trying to match dream's confident strides even with the limp in his leg. he can barely feel the humid awfulness of logstedshire shift into the equally awful ice of the tundra, all caught up in his thoughts.

maybe there would be a grave. or maybe ranboo would open the door, or he'd be in the cabin, because surely techno would take him in. he'd be wearing a cleaner suit, and he'd have cut his hair back to shoulder length. they liked it long, actually, so maybe they’d keep it. they’d be smiling, like always, and they’d greet him with a hug. “tommy, it’s been so long!” they’d say. and, he hoped, they’d add “i realised dream was a fucking bitch” and tell techno to punch his lights out.

or maybe there would be no hints at what happened. but tommy can hope, even if he really shouldn’t.

when they get to the house, techno's already standing outside, waiting. “i dunno why you had'ta keep me waitin’ this-“ he says, cutting himself off once his eyes drift to- “tommy?”

“i told you it was important, right?” dream laughs.

“he's dead.”

“prime, no. he's… he wasn’t well, y’know. not in that place. so i found somewhere better for him, and started helping when i couldn’t before.” dream shrugs. “of course, that’d be illegal even though it was the right thing to do, so i kept it quiet. don’t go telling l’manberg, though, or they’ll have my head for not killing him myself or something.”

liar. liar liar liar. tommy wants to scream the truth to the world, but dream wraps his arm around his shoulders tight and squeezes his bruises, a reminder to stay quiet and be good. so he nods.

techno growls. “i knew they were bad, but…”

“it’s okay. i just thought maybe tommy needed a change of scenery, y’know? he's… he's fragile, after everything. he’s not well, y’know, physically or mentally. so he might say some weird stuff, but i knew you'd be able to handle that.”

techno snorted. “yeah, i got my hands full with ranboo-“

“ranboo? ranboo's here?”

he was alive. he is alive. tommy feels more sick than he ever has in his life and he’s not sure if it’s from excitement or fear.

“oh yeah, you two were in exile together, weren’t you? c'mon, he's in the livin-“

tommy pushes himself free of dream's grasp, excited to finally see his friend, practically his brother, again for the first time in- months, maybe. he could never even be sure. time felt like it dragged too long to tell.

bursting through the door, tommy sees them. he won’t miss them for the world. their hair's different, in a ponytail, and they're dressed in much more casual clothes than they’d normally be caught dead in, but he could recognise that face anywhere.

“ranboo!” tommy scoops ranboo into a warm hug, barely noticing how they remain limp. “oh, prime, i missed you so much-“

“do i know you?” ranboo squeaks, and tommy's heart breaks.

“ranboo, it’s me! we were in exile together, remember-“

“i'm sorry. i'm really sorry. but i- i don’t remember a thing.”

oh. of fucking course. because he didn’t have the memory book, he must have forgotten everything by the time he’d healed enough to really be cognisant again. tommy scans his face for the slightest hint of recognition, but there’s none.

tommy must be a fucking bitch, because he bursts into tears then and there.

“i'm sorry! i'm sorry!” ranboo cries out, desperately trying to find a way to salvage the situation, and tommy keeps sobbing. and sobbing, and sobbing. the floor falls underneath him, and he curls up, shaking, like a fucking pussy.

he didn’t even cry this hard when dream was at his worst. but the idea of ranboo not knowing who he was, his only friend, the only person who ever cared for him no longer being able to… it was stupid, but that must be his breaking point, he guesses. like a fucking idiot, that makes him cry harder.

“i'm so so sorry about this,” tommy vaguely hears dream say, “he's not mentally well, is there a spare room i can help him calm down in?”

“yeah, there’s one upstairs.”

tommy barely registers as he's lifted up like a child, carried away from ranboo, but he does when he hears dream whisper harshly in his ear.

“tommy, if you fuck this up i'm never letting you out again. ever. smile and play nice and act like l'manberg ruined your life, or you'll wish i'd let you die.”

tommy nods, still sobbing.

“and dry your eyes. you’re making me look bad. stop acting like an abused puppy, i practically spoil you.”

tommy tries to stop, but the tears refuse to stop, even as he tries to dry them with his hands desperately. dream's voice softens as he ruffles tommy's hair affectionately. “look, i know it’s tough, but this is for you and ranboo, y’know? if i'm able to make things right, you can be friends again. i'll make sure he remembers you, tommy. i know how to fix it, just let me, okay?”

tommy nods, finally managing to go from hysterical tears to a more reasonable level of crying.

“that’s good enough. just smile and pretend everything’s fine, okay? i'll even let you listen to your discs for a while when we get home if you’re good. and remember it’s for ranboo too.”

it hurts tommy's face to force a grin, hurts his heart to try and think of how to pretend to play along with dream's story and throw his home under the bus. but tommy isn’t stupid. he doesn’t believe dream’s bullshit, but he knows what he’s implying. behave and ranboo won’t get hurt.

that, at least, is a comfortingly familiar game to play.

[actress4him]

Whumptober 2023 - Day 2 - The Shadow of Death AU

This is canon verse-ish in that it's not modern, but not an actual canon event. Short and vague, haha.

Taglist: @painful-pooch , @sssunshinebreeze

Masterlist

No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.” | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”

Contains: lady whump, implied noncon drugging, noncon touch, restraints, muzzle, a bit brainwash-y, open ending

.

.

There’s a thick fog over everything - her vision, her thoughts, her memories. It goes on for an eternity. She can’t remember a time that she wasn’t trapped here, in this fog. It’s always been too cold. The voices have always floated around her. The rope on her wrists and ankles, stretching out her limbs, has always been there, she can tell by the way it settles into her skin like it belongs.

The hands…the hands have always been there, too. Any time that they’re gone passes in a blur that she’s unaware of until they return. The hands are one with the pain, they leave scars on her mind everywhere that they touch. 

“Bru-…Brun-…” She remembers him. Somewhere, beyond this existence, there was a light, and that was his name. “Bruno…please…” 

She knows he won’t answer. He hasn’t answered any other time, no matter how much she pleads. 

“Shh.” One of the voices comes closer, breath too hot as it brushes across her cheeks. “No more of that.” Fingers pry her chin downward, and cold metal presses against her tongue, leather straps cutting into her lips. She chokes on a sob, any words that her mind could conjure now trapped. “He doesn’t care about you, otherwise he would be here, wouldn’t he? You’re where you belong now.”

He should be here. She wants him to be here. She wants him to take her away from here, but there is nothing else but here. He doesn’t exist. There’s only cold and pain and hands and fog.

The voices want her to give into it all. Maybe they’re right. Maybe she should.

[memeingovermemes]

the blackout club -- sentence starters ( ii ) :

feel free to change titles / pronouns / places where appropriate !

❝  can we go already?  ❞ ❝  come on! before i lose my nerve...  ❞ ❝  game faces... let's do this!  ❞ ❝  if you guys need me, i'm there.  ❞ ❝  i'm ready. i mean... reluctantly.  ❞ ❝  ready, you guys ready?  ❞ ❝  ready?  can we please do a cool slo-mo walk this time?  ❞ ❝  while we're young, maybe?  ❞ ❝  can't do much, but i can aim.  ❞ ❝  i best not miss.  ❞ ❝  i am the night! ...kinda. i'm... night flavored.  ❞ ❝  sure. i drank three sodas and climbed a rope... once.  ❞ ❝  what?  i like heights.  ❞ ❝  i want the shocker... heh.  ❞ ❝  stun gun's rechargeable, so...  ❞ ❝  club's calling, y'all.  ❞ ❝  focus, guys, new mission.  ❞ ❝  new message from the club.  ❞ ❝  gotta catch my breath...  ❞ ❝  (panting) hang on! hang on, hang on... ❞ ❝ h-hold up! ...i'm wrecked...  ❞ ❝  i gotta' rest a sec...  ❞ ❝  i'll be -- i'll be okay...! i think...  ❞ ❝  two seconds... okay, ten seconds...  ❞ ❝  knock it off!  ❞ ❝  flashlights down! i'm gonna' take that thing away!  ❞ ❝  get that light off me!  ❞ ❝  hey! you're lighting me up!  ❞ ❝  don't wanna' die down here. just give me a nice... breakfast nook!❞ ❝  how long did it take them to build this place...?  ❞ ❝  how far down are we...? never mind. don't tell me.  ❞ ❝  i know this place...  ❞ ❝  i love this, just loving this! the darkness, the dirt, and cold. it's like an evil spa.  ❞ ❝  i'm not scared... just living my best life.  ❞ ❝  it's all real. this is... real.  ❞ ❝  it's like a real life dungeon...  ❞ ❝  i've seen this before... dreams, but... not mine...  ❞ ❝  looks like a... what does it look like?  ❞ ❝  sleepwalkers built this? how in god's name...  ❞ ❝  the place feels, uh... familiar.  ❞ ❝  this place... why with this place?  ❞ ❝  wonderful... back down here.  ❞ ❝  stuff happens, parents worry, that's how it works. haha.  ❞ ❝  c'mon, mom, the rule is, my music in my room, right? haha. and i love this song.  ❞ ❝ for my hour of tv this week, can i please just watch the news with you, mom? i miss you.  ❞ ❝  I'm just gonna' practice my 3-point shot, dad. Jeez. It's like the perfect summer day.  ❞ ❝  okay, mom. i won't do it again. dad, you know i respect like, 99 percent of your opinion. haha.  ❞ ❝  that's a great joke, dad!  can i post that online?  haha, see what i did there?  ❞ ❝  the sun looks amazing today. not sure why i never seem to notice. just look at it. i mean, wow.  ❞ ❝  yes, dad, i've been studying. hah, no, maybe not as much as i'm supposed to, but i'm only human.  ❞ ❝  i saw one of the bad kids, mom! make them leave!  ❞ ❝  make them go away, dad! they have a bad attitude! ❞ ❝  those bad kids are back! help!  ❞ ❝  my dad is going to call your dad!  and then you'll see!  ❞ ❝  you guys are in so much trouble! get away from me!  ❞ ❝  and... i'm back. am i back?  ❞ ❝  it's you! you brought me back... i owe you one.  ❞ ❝  that... was not good. thank you.  ❞ ❝  you... you saved me.  ❞ ❝  damn it, no! not you too... ❞ ❝  i'll tell your folks... i'll tell 'em... something. ❞ ❝  no... goddammit, you weren't supposed to...  ❞ ❝  oh jesus... this could be any of us!  ❞ ❝  shit... shit. i am so sorry... ❞ ❝  he was our friend! now he's...  ❞ ❝  that was a person... oh god.  ❞ ❝  this is too real...  ❞ ❝  creepy enough?  yes.  ❞ ❝  okay... file that away...  ❞ ❝  you getting this?  ❞ ❝  and what's the club got to say?  ❞ ❝  cool. so what was next?  ❞ ❝  good, right? texting hq.  ❞ ❝  hey! look at us! technically competent.  ❞ ❝  man, i wish i could post this on... something.  ❞ ❝  i'm the best that's ever been.  ❞ ❝  we came, we saw, we... still need a catchphrase!  ❞ ❝  wooo, woo, woo! woo, yes!  woo, woo, woo! you're the best! woo!  ❞ ❝  over there!  ❞ ❝  that way.  ❞ ❝  mine now.  ❞ ❝  dibs on everything.  ❞ ❝  strongbox! what's in it?  ❞ ❝  but stealing is wRoNg.  ❞ ❝  don't mind if i do!  ❞ ❝  evidence of spooky conspiracy. confiscating.  ❞ ❝  someone forgot to pick up their toys.  ❞ ❝  it's locked.  ❞ ❝  who's got lockpicks? oh yeah. me.  ❞ ❝  another door.  ❞ ❝  doors are my nemesis.  ❞ ❝  quiet! sleeper!  ❞ ❝  remember. sleepers could be family.  ❞ ❝  sleepwalker.  ❞ ❝  they're not evil... just hypnotized.  ❞ ❝  lucid here.  ❞ ❝  camera. stay out of the light.  ❞ ❝  they got cctv.  ❞ ❝  it's that stalker kid!  ❞ ❝  stalker! stalker!  ❞ ❝  there's that creep!  ❞ ❝  body here. still alive.  ❞ ❝  just sleeping. don't touch 'em.  ❞ ❝  get down!  ❞ ❝  quiet!  ❞ ❝  i have such savings to offer you...  ❞ ❝  oh-oh! evil corp's calling!  ❞ ❝  personal call to work. shame, shame.  ❞ ❝  prank calling... now!  ❞ ❝  i can't believe that worked!  ❞ ❝  target neutralized!  ❞ ❝  that's for bells, asshole!  ❞ ❝  bad guy down!  ❞ ❝  wow, that worked! really well...  ❞ ❝  got that little shit!  ❞ ❝  how's it feel, shithead?  ❞ ❝  i got 'em! uh, what now?  ❞ ❝  okay! holding this one... for now!  ❞ ❝  see how you like it!  ❞ ❝  stay down, stay down...!  ❞ ❝  that's right! how you like me now?!  ❞ ❝  angel coming!  ❞ ❝  close your eyes! close your eyes!  ❞ ❝  guys, please! not the angel!  ❞ ❝  it's after me! oh god...  ❞ ❝  it's here for me!  ❞ ❝  no! not the shape!  ❞ ❝  the angel! i'm the target!  ❞ ❝  angel's gone... i think.  ❞ ❝  it left me... it left.  ❞

[ladyseidr]

vanessa headcanons / portrayal notes but i'm too lazy to make her headcanon banner or even write coherent thoughts so you just get a bullet point list:

definitely a reluctant follower but as things progress she gets more. . . attached might be a strong word, but she stops hating glitch so much. this does not last once she escapes him obv

like it's literally: oh funny rabbit guy but this is a glitch i need to figure out -> okay i hate his vibe -> get out of my head i hate you -> i might as well learn to live with you -> i've completely isolated myself from all friends except you so i guess that makes you. . . almost a friend -> post-game deeply traumatizing by the violating of like. literally having her autonomy taken away from her

still carries deep guilt and resentment for the murders during moments where she's fighting back / he's not in control at all

vanessa is the only fucking character in fn.af who would genuinely seek therapy after every thing and i think she should get an award for that

researches the franchise + william af.ton in a lot of detail when The Hell Begins and is horrified but also has to deal with glitch being very fond of his very dead creator

basically, not in the suit: glitch is like an annoying little voice in her head who she has to stop herself from arguing out loud with in the supermarket

in the suit: he's like. not Literally in control but heavily, heavily, heavily influences her thoughts and actions. can make her think almost anything is the right decision

( okay it's not as simple as "in the suit" and "out of the suit," but you catch my drift. she can absolutely "come out of it" while wearing the suit, and she can def be under his control while not )

i said it before but: scene girl in high school. like, she has rainbow extensions when not under glitch's control, of course she was a scene girl

genuinely loves the glamr.ocks, despite everything

generally i don't want to go with her owning / being in complete charge of the pizza.plex because that's silly to me, but i don't have an alternative, esp because like who would it be??? i just shrug.

genuinely concerned abt gregory or any other kid who gets in, esp because she Knows What's Going On. she literally knows that she's a threat herself.

favorite animals? cats and horses

took the help wa.nted job because, like. she needed the money + she's absolutely a gamer so it seemed fun. especially because she had never played VR before

doesn't have a favorite color and will argue if you try to get her to pick. definitely enjoys bright colors, though

absolutely thought fazb.ear entertainment was full of shit from the start, but she wasn't actually that familiar with the history, so

literally will adopt gregory post-game. tries to act kind of like a big sister but never had any siblings so she's incredibly lost fdhskfashfjdlsah

introvert, but enjoys having a small, close group of friends. she ghosts them during the glitch stuff, but the ones that matter are there for her when she gets back ( and def understand when she. . . kinda explains what was going on )

although "i adopted a kid" "you w h a t " FDHFKDSHJFHS

has absolutely nothing to do with her parents, for valid reasons

completely traumatized post-game to the point that she questions whether her own thoughts are "really" hers. she seriously doubts her own sanity at times, is often scared she didn't "actually" get rid of glitch, and questions her ability ( and worthiness, given her actions under brainwashing ) to take care of herself, much less gregory

like i mention on her page, i'm open to writing any ending and don't treat one as canon on this blog. however, it should be noted that i'm not a fan of the burnt.rap ending ( fully biased by the fact that i don't like burnt.rap's existence ). that's not to say i'm not willing to write it, but i'm prob not interested in writing directly with burnt.rap himself

as also mentioned on her page, she's a lesbian, so there won't be any shipping with her and glitch or william ( or any man lmao ). if glitch still wants to be weird, that's on him, but she won't be receptive period.

loves creative stuff!! is an artist ( esp with pencils or digital, but can paint a bit ), enjoys decorating her apartment, and adores dressing up in pretty clothes!

also genuinely enjoys programming. yes, it is soured for her post-game.

will self-sabotage herself even pre-game ( eating nothing but takeout, not getting outside enough, isolating, etc ). therapy helps post-game.

[idontknowanametouse]

So... I wrote a fic about Jujutsu Kaisen. Cause I refuse to believe canon. Anyway, here it is. (spoilers for Shibuya arc and a lil bit for the Culling Games arc) (briefly, it will be available in Ao3. probably) (sorry for bad english and probable inaccuracy with canon)

Kugisaki is moved to another room of the infirmary. Shoko knows she’ll have to do a herculean effort to try revert the cursed technique, but it’s worth it. Furthermore, she can see that the body modifications that were made on the girl’s body are less profond than those made on Nanami’s. And maybe, just maybe, the fact that Kugisaki’s technique affects the soul may help her during the execution.

When she finally stops doing the Reversed Curse Technique, Shoko falls on her knees, all vitality leaving her body. She feels like she is about to die after fighting with such effort against the cursed technique. Hana helps her to get up, as she was there after being called to take off Gojo’s seal, and Shoko took advantage of her presence to ask for help and try reverting the curse’s technique. The woman is reliefed they cured the girl’s physical form, but doesn’t know if they did the same to her mind.

_

There are people on the room before Ieiri can stop anyone from entering in. Even though Itadori, Fushiguro and Maki are the only ones to stay in there all the time, the rest of them stays a long time, and it works like this on the following two days until Kugisaki wakes up.

At the first moment, she looks around, confused. One of her eyes is milky and has stretch marks around it, as they couldn’t heal that damage without leaving behind a scar. Kugisaki moans a little because of the pain, squinting her eyes, trying to make the left one see, but in vain. Then, as her gaze falls over those around, her confusion seems to increase with their faces of expectations and tension, and opens her mouth, about to ask what happened, when she remembers she couldn’t speak before.

An avalanche of memories suddenly comes up and burries her under it. Memories from Shibuya and from the week after that.

Then, for the first time in many, many years, Nobara Kugisaki starts crying.

There’s an instant of shock in which everyone can’t do anything except feel their hearts break with the vision of her face getting contorted with pure trauma and pain as tears pour uncontrollably out of her eyes, making clear how broken Nobara is. The following instant, she feels arms squeezing her tightly and continues to cry.

_

It’s been a few hours since Nobara woke up. She is shrunken on the litter, and, even though she no longer has the empty look from before, now, it seems her eyes are the epitome of silent pain. Yuji hasn’t left her side since she woke up, and everyone agreed on making shifts to stay close to her.

Suddenly, the infirmary door opens and Megumi enters in.

“Nobara.”

“Ah, hi, Megumi.”

“Do you want to speak?”

“No.”

“Ok. Then, you just need to turn around to look.”

Without knowing what he means, she turns around and immediatly sits on the litter, exclaiming:

“My cane!!”

She practically rips the metal object out of Megumi’s hands, looking at the pink stars pattern with the trans and lesbian flag stamped on the handle, shocked. She asks:

“How did you get it?!”

“They found it on Shibuya and brought it back here. Yuji wanted it to stay here.”

“...thanks, Yu.”

“You’re welcome!” he smiles, and, for a second, just a second, she seems to almost smile back to him.

_

Now that she can walk through the school again, it’s normal to see Nobara wandering around without saying anything, but it’s even more common to see her alone, at her part of the infirmary, staring at the wall while hugging her knees, her eye looking so, so tired.

Maki is the third one on the shift to visit her. They see the colorful cane propped up on the wall and the eyepatch with a heart on it (it was gift from Itadori) on the girl’s face. Just as she enters, they say:

“Hi.”

“Hey, Maki...”

“How are you doing?”

Nobara doesn’t answer.

“Does it hurt?”

“The eye? No. And... the burn scars?”

“Just when they touch something.”

“I’ve never seen your arms before. They’re beautiful.”

“Ah... thanks.”

She sees a hair strand fall over Nobara’s face. Since they started hanging out, Maki sees that this sometimes happened, and always puts it behind her ear. They tries to do the same now. In an instant, Nobara’s eye gets wide and she almost falls back, covering her face with her hands:

“NO!!!”

Maki immediately stops. A second passes until Nobara looks between her fingers and uncovers her face, now flushed, murmuring:

“Sorry... sorry... I’m really sorry...”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. Don’t apologize.”

“It’s just... that...” her voice almost disappears as she speaks. “...his... hand...”

Maki doesn’t need any more information. She just approaches without raising their arms and sits by her side on the bed. Nobara hesitates for an instant, then her head falls over their shoulder.

_

The cane hits the ground when Nobara enters the other part of the infirmary. Nanami’s eyes meet her and she backs off, getting off the room. She can’t face him. Not yet.

_

“It’s made to wipe you out.”

“What?” Shoko asks, looking at Kugisaki.

“The needles. They stick you and make you get confused everytime you remember a little bit of yourself. They’re parts of his body that he modified to make it look like this way.

Shoko looks at the girl’s face, so shaken by everything that happened.

“...thank you, Kugisaki.”

_

‘She wakes up, feeling like all of her body was under the effect of anesthesia. There’s a point of her face that hurts. She tries to move, but feels heavy. She can barely open her eyes, such big is her tiredness. Her mind seems to be completely empty and she can barely think. Suddenly, someone raises her eyelid delicately and her gaze falls over two men. One of them smiles and says:

“Ah, you finally woke up! How do you feel, Hime-chan?”

She tries to speak about the mess that her body feels like, but her tongue curls up and shows itself as being useless on saying anything. The man raising her eyelid giggles and says:

“Oh, of course, silly me! You can’t speak. But don’t worry, you won’t need it. Instead, I’ll explain you what’s happening, ok? But, before, I’ll just put this behind your neck!”

And he creates out of the palm of his hand an ensemble of black needles.’

Nobara wakes up suddenly and turns around, gets her cane and walks out of the room. She doesn’t know what she wants to do, all she knows is that she doesn’t want to stay there to ruminate that again and again.

She goes to her room on the dormitory and looks at her stuff. She gets surprised they didn’t put everything away when they thought she was dead. Maybe Yuji stopped it from happening. Suddenly, her gaze falls over a small bottle of brown hair dying product.

She takes it. Her hair is now on its natural color, black, and she hates the fact that it’s this way. It always gave her a fucking horrible disphoria. She goes to the bathroom, but stops walking once she hears someone say:

“Ah, sorry. I didn’t saw there was someone here.”

She turns around and sees a person on pajamas with brown skin, long black hair with a pink strand and piercings on the lip. Nobara asks:

“Who are you?”

“Hoshi Kirara. I came here cause of my boyfriend.”

“Kugisaki Nobara. I... kind of live here.”

“Kugisaki...? Ah.” They seem to notice the bottle in her hand. “You gonna dye your hair? Sleepless tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“I know how. Wanna help?”

Nobara was about to say she was fine, until she realizes that, actually, she wants to do anything, except be alone. Then, she nods and they go to the bathroom.

Occasionally, Kirara makes a few commentaries, but they don’t seem to be expecting an answer from Nobara. Instead, they give her space, seeming to comprehend that the girl does that mostly to have someone by her side, to make those haunting thoughts leave.

“You are so pretty!” Kirara exclaims. The morning is arriving when Nobara’s hair entirely brown.

“...thanks.”

“You welcome.”

(this is the part 3 of a fic I wrote. To get the other parts, research for "the shape of two souls")

[austinwehaveaproblem]

[grislyintentions]

[A concept: Betrayal is not permitted in the House of Hearth but no one said anything about keeping secrets. The only conditional thing then would be that the secret is shared between the person and Father, wouldn't it? That is a bond that ties them close and makes the child feel understood.

And if there are secrets kept /from/ father, it would require someone else who can sift out what they are, if it threatens the orphanage and the plans behind it. Who's to say they don't become part of Freminet's clean up duties?

Even if you leave, and you can, where are you going to go? Father's children are everywhere.

There is a family here. There is a castle. You have everything you'd want but there are rules to follow. Father is both kind but strict. Why would you ever want to disappoint them, even when you know you would be forgiven?

This is your home, your family. You must do what you can to protect (suffer and sacrifice for) your siblings (even if deep down you know there's something wrong). They are the only family you have left.

That's the thing about fairytales. Under all that glamour, you must never forget what the House of Hearth represents. Under all of Father's mercy, you must never forget still that their mercy does not spare you from their expectations.

The house of hearth is family. But you must never forget that they are still a place that recruits and indoctrinates children with no one to rely on to protect them into becoming part of the fatui organisation.]

[butchbarbieagainstterfs]

sometimes I think about lohanthony and what happened to him and it just makes me really sad tbh :/

for those who don’t know: he was a queer youtube kid and actor who has since become a quite extreme christian who has renounced “all sexuality, heterosexual and homosexual alike”.

he has denied that he was sent to conversion therapy but tbh it wouldn’t surprise me if he had. he’s deffo been a victim of some sort of religious brainwashing and 100% it’s because he’s gay :(

[ohmaerieme]

rambling for a bit here about my “luigi gains some of dimentio’s mannerisms as a result of fusing into super dimentio” concept, because im fucking insane and need you all to understand my agony

ok so after writing all that this accidentally turned into like a kind of oneshot/drabble of 309 words. ur welcome everyone

he doesn’t even notice at first. he acts as if he’s always had these quirks, never notices anything out of the ordinary. but everyone else does. everyone else notices how his laughs now have a tilt to them it didn’t have before, how he poises his hands to his sides differently now, how he snaps his fingers before a battle.

what he does notice, is everyone’s stares when it happens- not that he knows what it is, yet. but most of all, he notices mario. and how he looks both horrified and sad in the strangest of moments, after telling a joke, or waiting in line at the store, or journeying off to fight bowser as their routine slowly resumes to normal.

and it’s the strangest thing that clues him to what’s been going on, that his friends have been dancing around. he’s making spaghetti with mario in the kitchen, a simple meal for a simple day- and the spices are on the counter behind him, so when his brother asks him so simply to reach behind him and grab some oregano-

his nearly pulls his arm out of his socket, he’s sure, from how fast he spun it backwards without even turning his head. and in his mind then, as he flinches his arm back with a hiss of pain, he realizes the error, then; a single stray thought in his head that said: “aren’t my hands supposed to float?”

the connection is easy, after that. and mario sits him down and turns off the stove and pulls their chairs closer together, so that their shoulders bump as they sit. and they rest their heads on eachother, and wish in complete silence that things weren’t the way they were, that maybe he could have left the end of all worlds in tact.

[lovenpeace-pkmn]

I think...I am grateful that our house's gods are the kind that just kill you if they are that mad at you. No overwriting your identity with their will, just...striking you down with lightning and fire. More merciful...

[psychic-type-appreciator]

I love her. I love mother. I won't ever hate them.

...

She's crying. Stop crying...it's okay steele...

[mischiefmanifold]

An Explanation of the Diagnostic Criteria of Other Specified Dissociative Disorder (OSDD)

OSDD is the diagnosis you receive when you have significant dissociative symptoms but do not meet the criteria for one of the main dissociative disorders. There are four examples given in the DSM-5-TR, labeled as OSDD-1, OSDD-2, OSDD-3, and OSDD-4.

OSDD-1 (Other specified dissociative disorder, chronic and recurrent syndromes of mixed dissociative symptoms)

Identity disturbance associated with less-than-marked in sense of self and agency (OSDD-1a)

Alterations of identity or episodes of possession in an individual who reports no dissociative amnesia (OSDD-1b)

OSDD-2 (Other specified dissociative disorder, identity disturbance due to prolonged and intense coercive persuasion)

Individuals who have been subjected to intense coercive persuasion (e.g., brainwashing, thought reform, indoctrination while captive, torture, long-term political imprisonment, recruitment by sects/cults or terror organizations) may present with prolonged changes in, or conscious questioning of, their identity. This does NOT cause alters as seen in DID and OSDD-1.

OSDD-3 (Other specified dissociative disorder, acute dissociative reactions to stressful events)

Acute, transient conditions that typically last less than 1 month, and sometimes only a few hours or days.

These conditions are characterized by constriction of consciousness; depersonalization; derealization; perceptual disturbances (e.g., time slowing, macropsia); microamnesias; transient stupor; and/or alterations in sensory-motor functioning (e.g., analgesia, paralysis).

OSDD-4 (Other specified dissociative disorder, dissociative trance)

An acute narrowing or complete loss of awareness of immediate surroundings that manifests as profound unresponsiveness or insensitivity to environmental stimuli.

The unresponsiveness may be accompanied by minor stereotyped behaviors (e.g., finger movements) of which the individual is unaware and/or that he or she cannot control, as well as transient paralysis or loss of consciousness.

The dissociative trance is not a normal part of a broadly accepted collective cultural or religious practice.

[darkdoverpseeker]

🕊️ 30+, literate female, not replacing anyone but looking for more non-human alien monster fucking plots! Only female writers and 3rd person writing, please! I have a plethora of female characters in early development to use for this plot, so any male-presenting aliens with tentacles, a plethora of arms, multiple genitals and a generally non-human appearance are welcome as we get around to plotting this thing! As I said, I can play one female character or a harem of up to 15 girls. So far their FCs are realistic, but we can discuss alternatives. Nuclear / dead dove themes such as sex slaves, free-use, non-con/dub-con, breeding, large insertions, tentacles and excess cum, fear play, all the way through, mindbreak, brainwashing, wounding, cumflation, possible cult themes and orientation bending (if my character is a lesbian).

GMT+3 timezone, like to get discord information! This would be a long-term plot, but I won’t rush for replies and I kindly expect the same from my partner!

interact if interested!