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olivia200312 · 3 years

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Accident~ RID2015! Optimus x Human! Reader

Plot: Y/N got into an accident in her house.

So, this is a true one-shot. This is NOT a lie. I got into an accident this morning. I woke up normally like every other human but when I wanted to move my head, I felt a massive intense pain at the back of my neck and head area. When I stood up, I felt dizzy. I moved a bit but it got so worse that I wanted to lay back down. But I collapsed and my face made contact with the floor. Luckily not hard but I did get a bloody nose. I felt very hot and was pale. But this all stopped when I laid down and slept a bit. My grandmother called my mom and she arrived s fast she can. The ambulance was called and they took me to the hospital. They checked my health and I was allowed to go. I also bit my lip a little bit hard so it's swollen when I fell. I wear a case around my neck and have to take it easy. This all happened on July 16th.

This continues after You're No Alone and Author! Check them out!

Author: one-shot where I became a self-published author on July 10th.

You're Not Alone: on February 5th, my grandfather passed away.

Head area:

Brain: Processor / Brain Module

Head: Helm

Face: Face plate

Ears: Audio receptors / Receptor Orifice / Audials

Nose: Enstril / Olfactory Sensor

Eye brow: Optical Ridge

Eyes: Optics

Mouth: Intake

Lips: Dermas

Teeth: Denta/Dentas

Tongue: Glossa

Chest area:

Chest: Chassis / Thoraxal Cavity

Back: Hexa-Lateral Scapula

Spine: Bipedalism cord / Back Strut

Chest and back armour:

Chest plate

Back plate

Mid-section plating

Neck guard

Side plating

Arm area:

Arms: Arms / Restarlueus

Forearms: Bitarlueus

Hands: Servos

Fingers: Digits

Arm armour:

Gantlets

Shoulder pads

Arm guard

Lower area:

Pelvis: Pelvis

Butt: Aft / Skid-Plate

Thighs: Tibulen

Calves: Cadulen

Feet: Pedes - the high heel bits are called Struts or Heel Struts.

Lower armour:

Skirt plates

Aft plate / Skid plate

Thigh guard

Ankle guard

General/Internal components:

Muscles: Cables / Pistons - It depends on the area in question.

Veins: Fual lines

Stomach: Tanks

Lungs: Vents - used to stop the con/bot from over heating.

Heart: Spark

Tattoos: D-con/A-bot Insignias and the lark

T-Cog: The thing that allows all Cybertronians to transform, be that their arms or their whole body.

Bonus:

Penis: Spike

Vagina: Valve

Body: Frame

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The alarm clock went off through Y/N's phone. She groaned and reached to put it off. Just as she wanted to move her head, she felt an intense massive pain at the back of her neck and head area. The pain was so intense and aggressive that it paralyzed Y/N to move. She nearly cried because it was very painful! But she managed to push the tears down. She moved her head very carefully. She then managed to stand up but she felt extremely dizzy and hot. She even was pale! Just as she grabbed her things like her phone, the charger, her wristwatch, and her headphones, it got far worse. She wanted to lay down again. She really tried to reach the bed but then... she collapsed. Her face made contact with the ground. It wasn't luckily hard, but she, either way, felt her nose drip out blood. She bit her lip a little bit hard that it will be sure swollen later. She even felt hot! Due to collapsing, she dropped her stuff, creating noises.

There were fast footsteps heard and the door of her bedroom opened. It was her grandmother. The poor woman looked panicked once she saw her granddaughter laying on the floor. "N/N, are you ok?" She immediately helped her up and made sure that she laid down on the bed.

"I f-feel weak."

The grandmother then saw blood drops on the floor, the carpet. She picked up her granddaughter's stuff that was dropped and laid them on the table. "I'll call your mother and clean the blood. Oh my god..." She immediately left the bedroom to call Y/N's mother and once it was done, she started cleaning to get the blood off. Once it was done, she sat down on Y/N's bed and kept an eye on her.

There were noises heard since Y/N's granny lived in an apartment. There was an elevator. Y/N heard the elevator clearly and it stopped on the floor where Y/N's granny lived. The doors opened and she entered the place. She immediately entered the bedroom. Her eyes widened when she saw her daughter in a weak state. "What happened?"

"I-I don't know. She collapsed on the ground. She has a high temperature."

That's when Y/N heard that her mother will call the ambulance. Oh no... Please no needles! Y/N didn't have enough strength to respond she took small naps until the ambulance arrived. It was two grown-up adult males. They were friendly. At that time, Y/N managed to sit up on her bed, her feet touching the carpet floor. She explained everything to the men while her family watched worriedly. They checked her blood pressure and her temperature. Like this one thing where you put your finger in. Y/N's temperature went down back to normal quite fast and she even stood up! She even moved and she felt no dizziness! Huh, looks like her body took the action quickly. Y/N wanted not to get tested but her mother wanted her to. God... She's an overprotective mother since she's single and loved her child dearly.

Y/N's grandmother helped her granddaughter to actually put her pants on before the ambulance arrived. She carefully stood up while the men made sure that she didn't collapse again. Y/N's mother packed like Y/N's phone, wallet, and the book she published. She had to wait for a few days to finally hold her book in her hands. What's stupid was that she had to pay for her own book instead of getting it for free since she's the author after all. The world was so stupid sometimes...

For the first time in her whole life, she rode in an ambulance car. One man was driving while the other was with Y/N, writing important information of Y/N's mother's card ID. Y/N herself was 17, almost 18. Let's just say that the accident happened on the day when her mother was supposed to come over and hand her daughter the book. It was honestly a very sad day for Y/N... She was excited to hold her book in her hands but look t that... a freaking accident.

The ambulance finally arrived at the hospital and Y/N was checked this time by a nurse. Everything went fine. The doctor came to check on her and Y/N explained everything. The doctor explained that the pain might be caused due to sleeping positions or other reasons. And the attack of dizziness, it could be caused by stress.

"Ever since my father's passing, she had a very hard time accepting that he's not here anymore. I see her constantly trapped with her feelings and emotions. She might have possible autism but it's not sure yet because the tests didn't happen yet. She even confessed that she wanted to commit suicide by taking pills. We are going to a psychiatrist but it doesn't help sometimes." When Y/N looked at her mother, she had a sad and soft look.

The doctor looked shocked by Y/N's mother's story. He couldn't help but feel sad for the teenage girl. She suffered a lot and still does. No one deserved to go through this, especially a kid. He looked to Y/N's mother and told her that it's better to continue to go to a psychiatrist. That's when Y/N was finally letten go with her mother. But however, before they can ride fully home, she heard her mother make an appointment with the doctor for a blood test. Oh, come on!

Later~

Optimus heard the news of what had happened. He got very worried when he heard that Y/N fainted. In his processor, he knew that it could be from the stress. Ever since her grandfather's passing, she never got better. She would cry for days, she didn't eat for 3 days which caused her to feel dizziness and headaches. She nearly landed in the hospital because of this. She started having trouble with her emotions and feelings. Not only that, but 2 months later after Y/N's grandfather's passing, her mother had a discussion with her, and guess what she found out, Y/N's other grandfather passed away on December 23th! Y/N never met her other grandfather before. She never saw him but she did saw how he looked from photos. His death was kept a secret for 2 FREAKING MONTHS! Y/N's father went to live in England with his new 'family'. Y/N's father did everything, especially paying the bills but he found out that his girlfriend had enough money to actually pay the bills! She lied the entire time! Y/N's father quickly broke up with her so he lived alone now. Y/N remembered the day very well when she heard the news that her other grandfather passed away in December. She cried. Yes, she may have never met him but she's sad that she lost someone that she could never meet. She wanted always to meet him! But he mysteriously disappeared after Y/N's parent's wedding day! Y/N had so many questions at that time. Had he ever heard of her? Did he know that he had a granddaughter? And many other questions. Y/N was right to be mad at her family. She was furious for days and there's still anger in her, she just doesn't show it. She rather keeps it hidden.

On the 3rd of July, just as summer vacation began, Y/N traveled to Poland with her mother. Since her grandfather passed away in Poland, both mother and daughter had difficulties traveling. Corona was still out there and the airports were controlling the passengers. You need to have important documents and proof that you are fully vaccinated or negative. Y/N was not vaccinated so she had to the test and let me tell you, it was disgusting! You know, the long thick thin stick in your nose to get the cells? Y/N's mother was also not vaccinated so she had to do the test as well. On the 4th of July; she went to visit her grandfather's grave. It was so painful... Y/N's mother believed that it would ease the pain, but she was so wrong, it didn't ease at all! Y/N wanted badly to talk to her grandfather alone but her two aunts and her mother stood close by. She didn't get privacy at all. She was mad. Y/N refused to eat for hours as well. But eventually, she came to eat when it was time for dinner.

2 days later, she returned back to the cemetery. She was alone this time with her mom. She had one minute of silence with her mother and FINALLY, Y/N got the privacy she needed. She must have at least talked for 1 hour to her grandfather's grave because she spoke a lot. She was thankful that her mom understood her. She said at the end her goodbyes and wanted to hug his grave, but she felt ashamed, shy, and embarrassed so she only touched the cross and cried. She cried the whole time.

At that time, Y/N was fighting was depression for months now. It was not easy due to the loss of a loved one instead of an animal. She missed of course her pet friends she lost, but with people was very different. When you lose someone for the first time, it's so painful. It can take a long time to get over with or part pain will stay forever inside of you. Depression cannot be 'cured' but you can control it with your power. It's not easy and it can be stressful, exhausting, and painful as well. Pain can be felt in your heart. What's one of the most important things to NOT ever do to a depressed person was yelling. It happened to Y/N. Her aunt, or her second mother, who lived in Poland, texted her and asked how she was doing. Y/N responded that she's fine. But she also told also that texted if she doesn't get better because of her possible autism or mental illnesses, then she will not go to work. But what Y/N's second mother send next, made Y/N mad. She responded like she doesn't have mental illnesses and that she needed only more explanation. Seriously? That made Y/N cry! Why was she reacting fast? Why was she quickly angry? Why was she having bad days? Why was she losing interest in her activities sometimes? Why had she dark thoughts? Why would she cry a lot? Why was she having trouble with emotions and feelings? Think about other symptoms. Those were clear signs of depression. According to an American's website where the experts knew everything about the loss of a loved one and what can happen further in the future if you don't get better in like 5-6 months after you lost someone, the chances were high that you had depression but it's important to go to a doctor where it helps you and asked questions. It's important, to tell the truth. once it was done, the doctor will finally give you the diagnoses that you were waiting for what's happening inside of you.

Y/N had to wait sadly. Still waiting. It can take up to almost 1 year or 2 to meet the doctor where the diagnoses can be finally revealed. She had possible autism as well. It was very possible Asperger's Syndrome. It's autism where people have difficulties communicating with other people but also having trouble understanding. The person can talk very well but sometimes can be quiet as a mouse too. People who have it were very unique. They even don't like to be touched all the time and don't like to make eye contact. Y/N's grandmother was the first one to notice the symptoms and told her daughter, Y/N's mother, to bring her to the doctor but Y/N's mother didn't notice anything until finally years later when her father passed away. So, they're on the waiting list. I mean, they had to be.

But anyway, Y/N's mother caught her daughter crying after she was done chatting with her second mother. Sometimes, Y/N doesn't want to talk about why she's crying but she's sometimes being pushed a little bit too hard which was not smart at all. When Y/N explained why, let's just say that later, Y/N's own mother, started to yell at her. Yes, Y/N had been fighting for months but seriously? Y/N wanted to scream and fight back but she couldn't! But when the fight was finally done, Y/N's heart was full of pain and felt hopeless as well. Y/N's mother should have never yelled at her! The results will be only crying! Sometimes, it can give results of an attack or worse...

Later~

Y/N walked carefully while not wearing a cervical collar around her neck. The doctor said that she didn't have to wear it all the time and recommended to at least sometimes move carefully her neck. Y/N felt pain sometimes but it's healing. She couldn't laugh hard, not yawn widely, etc. It was so annoying! She still couldn't forget her mother's yelling inside her head and those memories will probably haunt her. She already got her first corona vaccine and tomorrow, she needed to take a blood test because ever since the accident, her health was getting suspicious. Y/N decided to confront her mother at the doctor tomorrow and teach her a lesson that yelling at a depressed person was not smart at all. Now that she's a self-published author, she's busy writing about her life to inspire and teach others. Her mother needed to learn too.

"Sweetspark, when I heard about your accident, I was very worried," Optimus said, who randomly appeared behind her.

Y/N turned around fully to let her neck heal. "I am fine now. Just giving my neck time to heal. Sorry about worrying you..." She felt ashamed.

Optimus wrapped her arms around her waist, causing her to relax and lean gently against him. "Please remember that you're not alone, sweetspark. We all are here to help you. What your carrier did was not smart but I am proud of you that you'll confront her about it."

Y/N only hummed and couldn't help but smile when she felt him leaving soft kisses where she felt pain at her neck and head area. She giggled and Optimus smiled.

P.S. when Y/N became an author, only her second ex, her family, and her followers on Wattpad congratulated her. None of her friends did. Do you consider this disrespectful rude or heartless?

Yes, readers. Every detail left there is all the truth, including the yelling as well. I got the first shot of the corona vaccine and I feel still small pain but it's not bad luckily like the HPV vaccine I got once. So painfully... But my mother feared that soon the entire country will force everyone to get vaccinated, except kids under 12. Sorry to disappoint you all about the shot... The part at the end of my friends not congratulating me is also the truth :(. Darn blood test tomorrow! I have a phobia of needles...

#optimus prime x human reader #optimus prime #x human reader #x reader #reader #romance #tf rid2015 #rid2015 #transformers robots in disguise 2015 #transformers

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mindmeltonabun-blog · 4 years

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Tale of the Nine Tailed: Analysis and Theories of Ep 8

Welcome to another edition of Mind Melt On A Bun’s analysis and theories of TOTNT. I hope you all will enjoy this post, but fair warning it’s once again another VERY LONG POST! So if you want to turn on your thinking cap and face the risk of your brain blowing up into a million pieces then feel free to keep reading!

Snail Bride and Her Husband

Ureongi gaksi (우렁이 각시) or Snail Bride is a Korean legend which tells about a poor farmer who breaks a taboo and marries a woman who is actually a snail. One day while working in the rice paddy field, the farmer says to himself, “Who will I eat this rice with?”. To which a voice replied, “With me.”. Having heard this voice, the man turned around to see who it was, but only saw a snail. After having heard that, the man found that each day after returning home from work, a meal was always prepared for him.

The farmer was curious of who had been preparing his meal. So one day he pretended to go to work in order to catch a sight of whoever it was that had been preparing his meal. To his surprise, he had seen a beautiful woman emerging from the snail shell. Having been blown away by her beauty, he immediately asked her to live with him instead of returning to the snail shell. However, the woman told him it was not time yet and to be patient. Being the persistent man that he was, he eventually got the Snail to marry him.

The farmer became plagued with the fear that his beautiful Snail Bride might one day be taken away from him so he instructed her to never leave the house. The Snail Bride listened to her husband and did as she was told until one day when her mother-in-law told the Snail Bride to go and deliver lunch to the farmer. And so, the Snail bride did as she was told. However, along the way, the Magistrate who was enamoured by her beauty decided to kidnap her and make her his bride. Despite the farmer’s many efforts, he never found his Snail Bride and ended up dying of a broken heart and being reborn as a blue bird. Tragic I know !!!

Anyways, when applying this story to TOTNT, you will find that Ji Ah’s boss had shared many similar characteristics to the farmer from the Snail Bride myth such as persistency. Other clues that supports the ideal that Ji Ah’s boss is the farmer can be seen in the conversation between Green Juice Lady. The first clue is his fear of flying. This could be seen as a side effect of him being reborn in a previous life as a blue bird. I bet if Ji Ah used those Eyebrows of a Tiger Glasses, she would see him as a bird blue.

The second clue was in what the Green Juice Lady said, “ What are you doing here?”. I interpreted this as her knowing him in the past as well as her not expecting to see the farmer’s reincarnated self in the same vicinity as the Snail Bride.

Green Juice Lady Origin

In Korean mythology, there is a creature by the name of “Dueoksini/Dokeoksini” (두억시니는 ) that kills you by crushing your head (figuratively or literally). In Korean mythology, this creature is seen as an in between of a dokkaebi/goblin and a yokai. Because Dueoksinis have been mostly been forgotten throughout Korean literature, they are usually refer to as being a type of Korean Yokai.

Or the way I like to view the Green Juice Lady is that she's basically Pennywise, Freddy Krueger, and the Boggart rolled into one. After all its like Frank Hebert once wrote in Dune: “Fear is the mind killer”.

Taluipa

In TOTNT, the character Taluipa is seen as being the goddess of birth and fate, Sansin Halmoni. Besides having the ability of controlling birth and fate, Taluipa also can also foresee the future as well as grant immortality (i.e her husband). Given all of this, it is likely that her child, Bok Gil, would’ve had some pretty powerful abilities because he came from such a superior mother.

Now not much is known about Taluipa’s son other than he had committed suicide. Furthermore, the act of suicide was seen as a such a bad taboo that ensured he could never be reborn/reincarnated. In the context of TOTNT, it is inferred that even if you sacrifice yourself for the one you love, it is still considered suicide.

Lee Yeon’s Original Plan For the Imoogi

I think originally Lee Yeon had planned to take the Imoogi into himself and subsequently kill himself. However, when faced with the possibility that this would mean Lee Yeon could not be reincarnated, Ah Eum decided it was better that Lee Yeon killed her because at least she could be reincarnated.

Now you may think that well if Ah Eum sacrificed herself for the one she loves, isn’t that contradictory to what I said earlier about how sacrificing yourself for the one you love is still considered suicide and thus meant you couldn’t be reborn? It really doesn’t and here’s why. Remember that at this time, Ah Eum already had the Imoogi inside of her so her death by Lee Yeon’s hands were not seen as a sacrificial suicide. Rather, it was seen as him killing a greater evil and preventing the deaths of hundreds. Thus, this meant that Ah Eum could be reincarnated. Had Ah Eum ran into Lee Yeon’s knife or stabbed herself in the temporary moment she gain back control of her body, then that would’ve been seen as sacrificial suicide.

If both Lee Yeon and Ah Eum were able to find a loop hole at the very last minute that ensured Ah Eum’s reincarnation, I am sure that this time around Lee Yeon will be able to find a better loop hole given that he has had more time to than previously as well as learning from his past mistakes as it pertains to the Imoogi. I largely believe that this loop hole will have something to do with the favor Lee Yeon had asked of Taluipa’s husband. Maybe the favor Lee Yeon is asking Taluipa’s husband for is the elixir of life that is located in the Underworld (Hint: read my posts about Princess Bari). I think that Lee Yeon will want it just in case either him or Ji Ah dies in their battle against the Imoogi. Such an elixir could revive them!

Taluipa’s Son/Bok Gil = The Imoogi

As previously mentioned, I had theorized that Taluipa’s son, Bok Gil, must have been one hell of a powerful being given that his mom was a powerful Goddess herself. As to what those abilities could have been, it is still a mystery. However, I feel like his powers would’ve been connected the ones Taluipa had (i.e birth, fate, and ability to see what others cannot see). Again, not much was mentioned about him other than he committed suicide and that his name was Bok Gil.

Now let’s look at the Imoogi, we know that he has the power of life (bringing the bird back to life), death (sucking the life out of his nannies), and rebirth (being reborn as that boy).

By the way, I think it’s interesting that the cycle of life, death, and rebirth is represented as an “Ouroboros” or a snake eating its tail. Coincidence? I think not.

Anyways back to what else we know about the Imoogi. We know that he was born in a leap year as well as being born in a place between the living and dead (btw Lee Yeon was born in 420AD also a leap year..possible connection somehow?). The Imoogi could also see what others don’t see such as your soul and your deepest emotions.

If you think about it, when Bok Gil committed suicide, his soul/body was neither in the land of the living nor the dead. He was in between those two realms or in limbo. Connecting this to the fact that the Imoogi said he was born in a place between the living and dead, there is a significant possibility that Bok Gil is indeed the Imoogi. Furthermore, if you look at the kinds of power the Imoogi has and the powers that Taluipa has, you will find that they are strangely similar or related. If that doesn’t convince you enough then just compare the voice of Bok Gil to that of the Imoogi!

Imoogi and Lee Yeon

Initially, I had thought the Imoogi had wanted Lee Yeon for his fox bead (a kind of Yeouiju) so that it could become a dragon, but now I am beginning to think there’s more to the story than just Lee Yeon’s bead. If indeed Bok Gil is the Imoogi then I am left to wonder what kind of relationship did Lee Yeon have with Bok Gil before he died. Furthermore, could Lee Yeon have been part of the reason why Bok Gil committed suicide in the first place? If Lee Yeon had been part of the reason why Bok Gil committed suicide, then I can totally understand why Bok Gil/Imoogi would want to try to exact his revenge and/or anger on Lee Yeon. Maybe Bok Gil was jealous of Lee Yeon for getting more attention from his own parents than he was or maybe Lee Yeon got the girl he was interested in or maybe Lee Yeon was really mean and had bullied him or maybe the person who Bok Gil had died for (aka a loved) was somehow connected to Lee Yeon. I don’t know, I’m just purely theorizing and for all we know all the Imoogi wants is just Lee Yeon’s fox bead so that it can become a dragon.

Black and White Imagery

Other things I found interesting is the usage of black and white in Ep 8. For example, the shirts Lee Rang and Lee Yeon wears, the colors of the stones of the “Go Game”, and the cars in the background of the parking lot Lee Yeon was in.

Typically, the color combination of black and white represents Yin/Yang, Good/Evil, and Life/Death. In either cases, the concept is the same. Both represent the concept of dualism or the ideal that everything is interdependent, interconnected, and interrelated. Meaning you can’t have Yin without Yang, Good without Evil, and Life without Death. Or in the case of Lee Yeon standing in between the two cars and the two doors, both Lee Rang and Ah Eum/Ji Ah’s lives and fate were interdependent, interconnected, and interrelated to that of Lee Yeon’s.

Episode 9 Predictions

Lee Yeon will get Lee Rang out of the Forest of the Preta and Lee Rang will realize that his brother never really abandoned him in the first place. Additionally, their time in the Forest of the Preta is like a blessing in disguise because it helped both brothers to resolve the misunderstanding that occurred 600 years ago.

Now with Ji Ah, I think she will overcome her fear of the car accident. However I think she will be faced with another fear of hers which is seeing Lee Yeon die. I think she will overcome this too, but the Green Juice Lady will pull out one last trick out of the bag. Instead of making Ji Ah relieve some of her worst nightmares, she will make Ji Ah live in a world where all her dreams have come true such as having her parents back and Lee Yeon by her side. The Green Juice Lady will do this as a way to make sure that Ji Ah would never want to leave. After all, why leave a world where all your dreams come true right? Plus, Ji Ah’s mentality will become weaker because she will start to believe that the dream world she is living in is a reality. Therefore, in order to win against the Green Juice Lady, one must have a strong mind that is not killed by fear nor weaken by fantastical delusions.

This kind of reminds of the creature, “Black Mercy”, from Super Girl. Briefly, “Black Mercy” is alien parasite that makes its host dream their perfect fantasy world while it feeds off of them. The only way for the host to get the “Black Mercy” to detach itself is for the host to realize that the fantasy world they are living in is not real. So for Ji Ah, maybe she would have to do the same on her own or it would take Lee Yeon coming into her dreamworld in order for her to realize this.

Last Remarks

For all of those who are still left confused as to why Lee Yeon chose to save Lee Rang first, you can check it out here:

https://mindmeltonabun-blog.tumblr.com/post/633271037441818624/tale-of-the-nine-tailed-ep-7-thoughts-and

And if you’re too lazy to click/read all of that post, I’ll put it simply here:

In the past, Lee Yeon chose to go after Ah Eum first instead of saving Lee Rang from the villagers burning down the mountain. So this time around Lee Yeon did not want to make the same mistake twice and also Lee Yeon wanted to atone for his past mistakes. Plus, Lee Yeon knew that between Lee Rang and Ji Ah, Lee Rang had the weaker mentality so he would need more saving than Ji Ah would.

Happy Readings! I need a drink now after writing all of this !

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starryeyedrogue · 3 years

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mental health & vent

again, a long one. please stick with me here.

tw: depression, anxiety, ptsd, epilepsy diagnosis, suicidal thoughts mention

hey everyone, like I said in my last post, I won’t be as active on here. this doesn’t mean I’m quitting by any means, I’m here for the long haul! I just need a break for a little bit.

side note: I am not in any way suicidal or practicing self harm. this is just to vent and act as a PSA for my mutuals/followers.

now onto my main message.

I’ve seen lots of posts about mental health lately, and I’m so incredibly proud of those who have spoken up. They’ve inspired me to make my own post, actually. normally I’d keep it to myself, but this time has been rough and I want to get it off my chest. I’ll probably delete this later, but still.

I’ve been depressed.

long story short, I had a very traumatic experience a couple years ago with an ex boyfriend (not going into it on this post, for details just dm me. not something I’d want to post publicly, this is just an explanation) and I was deeply depressed. I was never diagnosed “officially” because I was afraid to speak up, as this would expose what I was going through. I had really bad anxiety at that time too, and I still do. I also have PTSD flashbacks from it now and again. none of this was diagnosed, and I still don’t want to bring it up to my doctors/family. my irl friends don’t even know, at least not most of it.

I have monoclonic epilepsy, which means my seizures are fairly small. my arms, legs, feet, hands, and fingers twitch, and I lose control for a few seconds. it doesn’t hurt, and sometimes I don’t even notice or remember it happening, but my family does. epilepsy in general runs in my family, and it can be triggered by a great deal of stress, lack of sleep, and of course flashing lights. in my case, I never “had” epilepsy or seizures until the “experience” I mentioned before, as it caused massive amounts of stress for about 2 years straight. it’s gotten better, as I now have medicine and am out of that situation, and I haven’t had a seizure since September, which is amazing and a huge blessing.

writing has helped with my depression and anxiety a lot, as I can write out what effects me the most. honestly, some of the characters are based off of myself (before vs after) and the person from the “experience.” this is just for therapeutic reasons, as I don’t really want to go to real therapy (I’d be too embarrassed to ask for it or talk to someone anyway, though I probably need to go eventually and plan to when I’m on my own).

however, when I stopped posting it, I started feeling bad again. I didn’t think I needed to post my stories to feel better or to make a childhood dream into reality, but not posting it made me feel somehow worse. I’ve stopped writing as much, and I’ve lost motivation to do just about anything. I’m working on a couple things to help myself get out of this “funk,” but any tips would be greatly appreciated!

this may seems stupid, but I’ve been depressed and very anxious about my schooling. I started in cyber security and got about halfway through, but I became depressed and had other issues so I didn’t finish the degree. now I’m starting in psychology, after praying for months and months for help with figuring out what to do for school. I finally got an answer, and that answer was to be a Christian counselor! I want to help as many people as I can, especially since I know how it feels to be anxious, depressed, and have PTSD.

I’m dealing with a lot of changes right now, as I’m selling my first car, might have to move out of my first house/childhood home, and just a bunch of other stuff. this sounds trivial, but I hate change. it seriously stresses me out. my neurologist told me that if I have any more seizures, I won’t be able to drive for 6 months to a year to be safe (as I could have an “episode” as I call it while driving and hurt myself/others in a potential car accident). trust me, trying not to be stressed while being stressed, anxious, and depressed is not easy.

on top of all that, my irl friends have all but abandoned me. I never hear from them (all but one, she’s the best!), and when I do they ignore me or pretend to listen when they obviously aren’t. I try to make plans with them, but they ignore me or just say “definitely!” but never try to set up times to hang out. It’s been almost two years since I’ve seen them all together. I was able to hang out with the friend I mentioned earlier to go to another friend’s recital, but that was it, and that was months ago. I totally get being busy, but I miss them and I don’t think they miss me, which really hurts. one friend ditched us on graduation day and we haven’t talked to her outside of “happy birthday,” or “@___ look at this thing I know you like,” which she never responded to. graduation was 4 years ago. I miss them all, even if they aren’t really my friends. I miss familiarity and their chaotic personalities. I’ve known them my entire life. honestly, I haven’t made any other friends irl, even though I’ve tried (I’m very introverted and a lot of people don’t get my humor/personality. I’m very much a mischievous old lady that uses weird wording (li.e. using uncommon words for my generation mixed with modern stuff, basically I sound like a vampire that’s been around since the 50s and mixes the eras together in some unholy mixture) at heart and I have very niche interests that I cling to like they’re my last hope). basically, making friends and meeting new people is hard for me for various reasons.

tumblr is different though, which I’m seriously grateful for! the people I’ve talked to are all so nice and really fun to talk to, and they’re part of why I’m posting this. @elvish-sky gave me the courage to post this and @hey-its-nonny and @padawansofthejediorder have been amazing and super nice to me, and I couldn’t be more grateful. the reason I’m posting this is to let them know what’s going on if I don’t respond to messages for a while, and to let them know what wonderful people they are and how much it means to me that they care about me, even if we’re just tumblr mutuals. I love you guys, thanks for being here! it means more than you know.

my mom and dad both had health scares recently, which made me spiral even more. I honestly don’t know what I would do if one of them died. they’re literally my world and my best friends, as ridiculous as that sounds. my mental health was so low I honestly thought I’d die too. they’re both fine now, which is truly a blessing and a massive relief. when I say I thought I’d die too, I don’t mean I wanted to commit suicide, but I honestly can’t imagine a world without my parents, especially my mom (hers was the main health scare, it was a case of reaction to a new medication for her migraines). we’re insanely close and she’s my best friend, as cheesy as that sounds. I don’t know what I would do without her. it’s making me teary just thinking about it.

long story short, please be patient with me. I’m dealing with a lot right now, and I need some time to take a deep breath and focus on my mental health. if you have any suggestions/tips for dealing with depression, anxiety, and PTSD flashbacks, please let me know!

for those I’ve tagged, you don’t have to reply or even read this whole thing if you want, I tagged you because I thought you’d like to know about this and/or I wanted to show my appreciation for your kindness!

I love you all, thanks for sticking around and listening to my rants. <3

#roguespeaks #sorry that was super long #vent #mental health #roguesrambles

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hey-its-cammy · 3 years

Text

This is No Mistake

Teaser

Title: This is No Mistake (Teaser)

Pairing: Dean x Reader (Eventually)

Word count: 3019

Summary: Y/N always felt out of place. Like she didn’t belong in this life. In this universe. She felt like she belonged and had a purpose somewhere else. Of course she never knew where until something bad happened and led her to her destiny. To her purpose in life.

Chapter trigger warnings: Mentions of suicide, shitty parents, mentions of depression, mentions of low self-esteem, blood, minor character death

A/N: So I just recently thought about this and it has been on my mind recently. Maybe I can turn it into a series maybe not. This is actually one of my longest things I've ever written, positive feedback is always welcome and constructive criticism is nice as long as you are, I am always trying to improve ;) Let me know what ya think!

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Your home life wasn’t all what you had hoped it would be, it wasn’t bad but you suppose it wasn’t good either. After years of being bossed around by your mother and all the verbal abuse from your family members, it seemed that life wasn’t turning out like you had hoped. You felt like the walls around you were your cage. How? You have always been told and kept reminding yourself that people had it worse than you, that you had it made. Your mother and father fought constantly while you grew up and still do. You remembered a time when you were younger and hoped they would make amends and it would be better, it never happened. The fighting only got worse as you grew and started to become more aware of the arguments. Pretty soon you couldn’t escape them, they always seemed to happen while you were around. You wondered if they were fighting about you, of course they were. What else would they be fighting about? It has always been you or money, past things that your mother brought up that didn’t matter now.

Both of your parents were quite complex yet strangely simple. Your father was a toxic masculine man, tall and with dark features. He was loud when he got angry, you were constantly afraid of him hitting you but he never laid a finger on you somehow. He was simple. He liked cars, you would help him with them when you were little. He was a mechanic. Honestly they were some of your fondest memories. Even if he was constantly fighting with your mother or really verbal with the abuse he laid into you, he managed to be surprised when you seemed to magically have self-esteem issues. Honestly, heavens no. Not his child.

He was an asshole but there were moments that he wasn’t, you held onto those for your dear life. Like the moments when you were little? The nice memories of the past. They tend to sadden you now that you are older, wishing you could return into that carefree state of mind. Growing up sucked. Bad. Even when you were younger you saw what it turned into. Both of your parents were unhappy with life. It never changed. Even if you liked your father more than your mother, you still always felt uncomfortable around him. You two rarely spoke and when you did it was a question or small talk.

Now your mother? Ha, she was something different than your father who was actually quite laid back. No, your mother was an uptight bitch who constantly rode your ass like a pack mule. Throwing more emotional and mental issues on your back like a load, expecting you to just accept it and move on. With her it was always her way or the highway or so the saying goes, something like that. Even with small things like folding laundry, if you didn't do it her way then she would get pissed off and blame things on you that have no correlation what-so-ever. It was just sad.

You never felt like you deserved any of it. It never sat right with you. Well everything thinks their parents are shit but why you? Isn’t that what everyone thinks?

You held onto the moments where things seemed to be so normal, family outings to the fair every year or walking around the mall. Sure there were still some bickering and banter between the two of them but nothing like the usual. It was nice, you didn’t feel like running away and hiding. Something you often did when you were at home, being in your room all day everyday until your only best friend invited you out with her. She was a nice getaway, a break from your family. Hell, when you were in your teens you’d spend weeks at a time at her house. Her parents were divorced but her mom was cool, she let you drink sometimes. You two still are best of friends, peas in a pod, creme and cookie of the oreo.

Now Anna, your best friend since freshman year of highschool, she was a character. She was your twin flame, or so she called it. Frankly you never heard of the term before she used it and explained it to you one night, you two were at her step-dad’s house in the kitchen. You remembered it vividly.

The blonde haired, blue eyed female was to your right while you stood at the end of the kitchen island, looking at the marbled surface. Y/E/C eyes casted down on the surface under your fingers.

“That’s what i'm saying, we lived virtually the same lives but yet we are different in most aspects.” She said softly but with enthusiasm.

“Hmm?” You zoned out for a moment while she went on a tangent, thinking about a place that isn’t here. You did it more often than you’d like to admit honestly. You rather be hunting with Sam and Dean.

“Y/N, are you listening? Twin flames.” She waved a hand in front of your face to grab your attention.

Your glossy gaze lifted and became clear to focus on your bff. “Huh?” You said again. Sad you didn’t get to finish your thoughts about your hunt in this other world. It all felt so vivid and real until you came falling back into reality. Shit blows.

“Twin flames. That's what we are.” She repeated herself. Maybe she picked up on the blank stare you gave her but when it clicked, she explained. “It's like your twin but not.”

“Helpful.” You nodded sarcastically.

“Y/N i'm serious! Think of tinkerbell and her sister.”

“Periwinkle.” You said before your mind even registered that you knew it, must have been the millions of times you have seen the movies.

“Yes, they don't really look anything alike at all,” She motioned with her hands between the two of you. “They are completely different but work so well with each other like they were made for one another.”

“Like a soulmate?”

“No, well sorta but no.”

“Ya lost me.” You tilted your head and sent her a half smile.

“Ugh nevermind. But you’re my twin flame.”

Those were the good days, when you were around each other constantly. You were fluid and around each other so much that when you were out, people thought you were dating. Of course the two of you would laugh it off and give that person a run for their money on that bet or assumption. That's just how you two were. You were a tomboy and she was a lipstick, it fit. She wasn’t a lesbian, she was bisexual and so scared what you would think when she came out to you. Honestly you just laughed and said you liked boobs too, who doesn’t? They are squishy!

She was great but you always felt like she was just using you for emotional stability sometimes. Of course that’s not a bad thing but like...constantly. You were the less emotional one and when you were, you struggled with showing them. You only cried when you were alone, it took you five years of close friendship with Anna for her to actually see you cry. Of course that just had to be when she needed you to be strong for the both of you. At least in your mind that's how it was supposed to be. She was talking about committing suicide that night and it stuck with you ever since. She grounded you when you were feeling numb. Made the dark days sunny again. She was all you had.

Weakness was never something you took kindly to at all. Probably what you got from your father, you never saw him cry. You were always told to shut up and stop being a baby when you cried, people mocked you constantly. When you were younger you were very emotional but you couldn't help it. You were young. So now that you were older, you never showed it to anyone.

Now here you were, alone in your room, sobbing. One of your patients had died on your table today, he was a nine year old mastiff and his heart was too weak to take a simple knee replacement surgery. You loved big dogs so it only made your heart heavier. You were a veterinary surgeon at a local animal hospital about two miles from your apartment complex. You had many jobs when you were younger; a waitress, bartender, maid, secretary for a human hospital and you of course volunteered at the career center to teach kids about cars when you were available.

Teenage boys were exhausting and sometimes very sexist, thinking it was cool and would get brownie points with any girl to hit home base. That was only until Dakota showed up in your class. She was a whirlwind of hellfire and a demon in lipstick. She basically ran the small shop that you taught in and ran the boys right into the ground.

With a flip of her apple scented hair, they would be on their knees kissing the ground she walked on. Quite empowering even for you to say the least. She looked up to you though, it was nice. You always had that motherly charm about you, always taking care for others and never yourself. It was slowly going to kill you, at least that was what Anna said. You still looked out for others though, even her so frankly how can you?

The dog though, that was hard. Having to tell the family for them to just blow up in your face and blame you for his death. That hurt worse. Low blow to yourself and sadly as these things happen, you spiral. You spiral so much until you are numb, empty and don't care about anything.

You were broken from your thoughts when your phone rang, vibrating on the wooden table. Jesus what time was it? You knew it was late. When you picked up the phone the small clock read 2:34 AM. Who was calling you this late? None other than your bestie had the balls to call you when you should be sleeping.

You wiped your eyes and cleared your voice, answering the call.

“Hey! Knew you'd be awake.” She said cheerfully on the other side of the line.

You smiled, even though she couldn’t see it. “Hey,” it came out as a raspy whisper, you cleared your throat and tried again. “Hi. Well you know, never sleep much anyway.” Insomnia is a bitch. You thought and placed the phone between your ear and shoulder as you shifted. You took the phone and moved it to your other ear.

“Well don’t get comfy, i'm on my way to pick you up, mom misses you and so do I.”

You sighed. “Does anyone in your house sleep?”

“You’re awake too.” She said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Right. Okay well give me some tim-”

“No need, I'm at your door.”

You heard keys in your lock and sighed, hanging up the phone with a click. Anna walked in just as you walked out of your room in a plain grey shirt that went down to your mid thigh and boyshort underwear.

“Sup bitch.” She greeted and you smiled, walking towards her. She hugged you and the two of you sat down on your couch in the living room. You talked about the usual ‘how's work, what have you been up to’ the same old same old small talk. It was nice to see her after a few weeks.

She made herself comfortable on your couch while you got dressed. Going for your usual jeans, band tee and boots. Anna always thought you looked like a total badass and on some days, you felt like it. Tonight wasn't the night though.

You threw your hair up into a messy ponytail to keep it out of your face and grabbed your things, heading out with your friend.

“Mom is excited to see you.” She beamed.

“I'm sure she is, haven't seen you two in a while. Not like I used to. Work has been busy.” You didn’t look at her, afraid she’d see through you.

“I don't believe that, i think you've just been busying yourself with work and using it as an excuse to not get out and socialize.”

Of course without fail, she did. “I'm not.” You said sternly.

“Yeah i'm sure. Y/N you need to get over him. It’s been five months.”

You held your tongue. Easy for you to say, you bat an eye at a man and they fall to your feet. You thought. People avoid me like the plague.

“He cheated on you, you don't need to stress yourself over a man like him.”

“That is three years of my life down the drain Anna.”

“I know it is, i just-”

You cut her off. “You don't know. Your relationships never last longer than a few months at most.”

“Ouch.” Her face fell and she trained her eyes on the road. You turned your head to look at her and you could see tears prick her eyes.

“Sorry. I just- people don't chase after me like they do you. I'm not that girl. I’ve never been that girl. I'm not as pre-”

“I'd chase after you if I were a man. Hell, Y/N/N I’ve been gay for you for years!” You smiled now, the thick tension in the air fading.

“Yeah well we both said that when we turn fifty and we aren't married, we are marrying each other.” You two always said this even after a year of being friends, it was hard for you to trust.

Anna gave you a knowing look and smiled. “Still a promise, sexy bitch.”

You both laughed out loud and you turned up the music she was playing, a comfortability between the two of you.

You dated Chace for three years, friends for four years before that. You couldn’t believe it when you caught him with your ex friend Maddie in your bed together. Well maybe you could, he did say once before when he was drunk that he liked her. You shrugged it off, trying to not let it get to you. Such an idiot for that. Either way it hurt, bad. Anna was there when you reached out to her, just to stay with her until you got back on your feet. Now you live in an apartment down the road from her and you couldn't feel more free. It was safe to say two were really close. You had never been so close with someone that they knew what you were thinking by your face. It was odd. You hid everything from your parents but with her? She saw right through you like you were made of clear glass. It was thick but you could still look in. One time she compared you to lion glass. It was the only thing keeping the lion away from ripping the people into shreds. Metaphor for your emotions.

Of course after spending time with Anna and her mother, you felt better. She had a habit of doing that, cheering you up. She was happy with her new boyfriend, you were happy for her. Better than her being so lonely all the time.

Little did you know this would be the last time you got to see your best friend again.

You woke up alongside her, your head pounding from the night of drinking. You two always shared a bed, a habit you picked up while you were young.

You got up, your feet hitting the softness of the carpet until it felt warm and damp. Groaning you thought you just stepped in dog pee and stepped around it only to feel it again and again. “What the hell?”

You flicked on the light only to be in horror of what was in front of you. Your eyes burned and you immediately felt sick to your stomach, running to the bathroom to throw up the contents. Your mind was just playing tricks on you, this can't be happening. What the actual hell. There were no such things as monsters or ghosts. Freaking Scooby-Doo taught you that the real monsters were people! This is like something out of the show Supernatural you thought to yourself. Gathering yourself up off the bathroom floor, taking a deep breath, a man kicked the door down. You screamed and everything faded to black.

Supernatural. A show you were in love with. It held all the things you were so interested in, angels, demons, Heaven and Hell. All of it. Two very attractive men playing the lead roles of the characters. Sadly you never got to meet them after the show's ending, probably never will. You watched panels and things while you were at home. Wishing you were there to see them in person. Never once did you have the money to just leave to the state or country they were visiting and having a panel in. When they did come to your state, you were out of the country on a school trip. Life is just that way.

So here you were, waking up in a dark musty room. The lamp on the bedside table seems to be your only light source right now, besides the light coming from under the door. Where the hell were you? It felt oddly familiar but you have never been here before. At least not to your waking knowledge. A light knock on the door made you jolt up, your head pounding as you sat up. Your hand came to hold it as a certain tall, long haired man entered.

“Sorry about that, I didn't mean to make you fall, you hit your head on the floor pretty hard. You might have a concussion so take it slow.”

He was right, light hurt. Everything was hazy and slow. You rubbed your eyes and blinked a few times. The male started to come into view. “Jared?”

He looked at you puzzled.

“Sam?”

#supernatural #dean x reader #dean x reader fluff #deanxreader fluff #dean x reader smut #dean winchester #sam winchester #teaser

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the-darkfactory · 3 years

Text

A SICK GIRL.

This text was written and published in November 2018. This is the first time I translate to English. Hope it reaches those who need to read it most. Much love.

I was born dying. I was dragged from my mom's belly straight to the intensive care unit and spent a month in the incubator until I could breathe without machines. I was also born whole and no one ever told me that, one day, my mind was going to split in two.

I was very little when I first felt strange. Very strange. I was already 5’6 feet tall when I started my last year in primary school, finding clothes that fit me was torture. However, for my graduation party, I found a purple dress that seemed perfect. When I tried it on, under that all-showing light in the changing room, I felt fat. That was the first time I was disgusted by my reflection.

After a summer tinged with school farewell melodrama, I started high school. I spent most of my free time studying, listening to the Backstreet Boys or reading Harry Potter. At the end of the first semester, I got the best grades in my class. While everyone at home was happily celebrating, I made a pact with a friend: I was going to stop eating.

My thinness brought about new habits and what I remember the most is how cold I was: during school recess, my friends would go out to play and I would stay in the classroom wearing every sweatshirt I could find. It would take me forty-five minutes to eat an apple and before going to sleep, I would go over each food item I’ve had in the day and calculate the calories. I also learned that I had to get up slowly to avoid the dizziness that turned my room into a washing machine.

One day my family and I went to one of those “all you can eat” restaurants. After two sandwiches and a bit of cake, I started crying because I had an intense stomach ache, but it was all a premeditated drama I staged so they wouldn't make me have dinner. Two days later, my mom dragged me to a clinic. I had to take off my clothes and stand on an ice-cold scale. "You weigh 39 kilos," the doctor announced. "You're anorexic."

I was taken to a hospital that had a team specializing in treating people like me. We waited for hours until my name was called and I was met by an anti-anorexic army: a nutritionist, a clinical doctor, a psychiatrist, a psychologist and others I never understood who they were. They made my parents leave and Anorexia and I were interrogated. They asked us if we vomited, if we had thought about committing suicide and if we had ever been abused. When we talked about my parents' divorce, we burst into tears. Then they faced the back of two chairs and asked us to separate them according to how far apart we felt they had to be from each other in order for us to fit between them. We did it and passed the test: we knew we were tiny. The doctors said I was on the verge of hospitalization. I was a sick girl.

Once our relationship was made official, we went to the hospital three times a week. Long waiting, weighing, talking. We were forbidden to be physically active and we had to write down how much of what we ate a day. Mom sometimes comforted us and sometimes shouted at us. One night she yelled a lot because we had only had a piece of fruit for dinner, but how could I explain to her that eating made Anorexia hurt and so it hurt me too? We were sent to a psychologist we stared at in silence for an hour. We finished our junior year with straight As, enslaved at home and undernourished.

Anorexia and I did everything together. I would start a sentence and she would finish it. When I moved my hand to grab something, she was the one who forced my fingers closed, and if something bothered her, I did whatever was necessary to calm her down. One afternoon, we went cycling with our friends and we were carried on the handlebars so we wouldn't move. Everything was going beautifully until a sudden stop made us fall face first to the ground. We got up spitting teeth and blood. We broke our four incisors, skin came off our lips and we split the right side of our face. That night before showering, I stared at our skeletal, beaten up reflection. Days shy of my fourteenth birthday, I cried my heart out asking Anorexia what the fuck had she done.

I wanted her to go away. The only thing I could do to get her to leave was eat. Sometimes she won, sometimes I won. Once, she lost 100 grams and I went home after the medical check up feeling a killer urge. Another day, I gained 200 and that night she didn’t let me sleep. It was war. If Anorexia told me to hide food, I ran off to snack with my brother. If she hated sandwiches, I'd buy a dozen of my favorites. For every complaint of hers, a food bite of mine, and so, bite by bite, I filled her mouth with silence until I could no longer hear her speak.

I started my second year of high school with a seemingly healthy weight. I went to the hospital once a week. Eventually, I was told I could go once a fortnight, once every twenty-one days and, somehow, I stopped going altogether. I don’t remember how or when that decision was made. The only thing I do know is that during all that time I ate almost nothing from Monday to Friday and a lot from Saturday to Sunday in order to weigh more at the Monday check-ups. The thing was that once the pact between Anorexia and I had been made, she would try and talk to me every day. People didn't notice but I knew she was still there. We were still the best students, we lifted weights after eating a salad and we never got our periods. We were stopped on the streets to be offered jobs at modeling agencies and we realized that our bond had the aesthetic approval of society. I forgave her for all she had done and gave her, again, space in my body to grow.

When we turned seventeen, Anorexia changed. She screamed at me and didn't feel like doing anything. We quit the gym, gained weight and developed insomnia. One drunken night, we came home and went straight to the kitchen. We opened the fridge and devoured, on our knees, all the leftovers from dinner. We then shoved our fingers down our throats. That's how Bulimia arrived.

Bulimia was fiercely hungry. My cheeks, arms, and chin grew like a fatty bubble. I was disgusted by my body and I got dressed in the dark. I stopped studying, I couldn't concentrate on anything else. At prom I had two drinks and passed out. I woke up in hospital with an IV in my arm and my worried mother by my side. I didn't know how to explain that for weeks and in order to be skinny that night, everything I ate, Bulimia vomited.

I wanted to feel normal. I was very weak and exhausted, but Bulimia was young and confident. She never shut up, she would even eat raw polenta in spoonfuls and vomit it all, leaving me tired and confused lying in my bed. Her arrival was abrupt because Anorexia had already drilled holes in my head: they were different versions of the same thing and a pattern of destructive habits that infected everything. They turned my life into a living hell.

We vomited so much that we spent hours burying our heads in the toilet seat and we would only stop when we saw the first thing we had eaten leaving our body. We did it five, six times a day. We used every bathroom we set foot in. The ones at school, my friends' houses, restaurants, my grandmother's, my dad's. I developed arrhythmia and thought that Bulimia was going to get me killed. Some nights, while dreaming that I was violently bingeing, I would wake up desperate and ready to stick my fingers in my mouth until I realized that, that one time, the binge had been a dream. That feeling of “fake need to vomit” was the closest thing to peace I felt during those times.

Bulimia didn't want me around anyone. She made me think I was crazy and that I would never be able to be separated from her. I stayed away from my friends. I stopped having dinner with my family and we would lock ourselves up in my room. Mom would bring me trays of food that Bulimia kept in plastic bags. I once found a rotten chicken inside the closet. It was full of maggots. We were almost found out when my brother saw a glass of vomit in the bathroom that we had forgotten to flush down the toilet. He brought it to me and said, "Is this yours?" while retching. We nodded and took it away from him as if it had been a misplaced shoe.

I don't know how I managed to free myself from anorexia and bulimia, but for the last three years I have hardly felt their presence. Sometimes I wonder if I started traveling around the world to confuse them and leave them stranded in another part of the planet. Maybe they got bored of my criticism and couldn't stand my will to not share my body with them. One thing I’m sure of is that love played a major part. It was crucial to understand that I did not choose to live with them and that asking a person with compulsive thoughts to stop having them is like asking a paralytic to simply stand up and walk.

Anorexia and bulimia stole my time and energy. I gave them my will to live, my projects and motivations. In return, they gave me anxiety, panic attacks, depression and suicidal thoughts. They still whisper to me every now and then but I can ignore them. It’s not always easy. I don’t know, this coexistence has been very strange but they definitely don’t own me anymore. Looking for the reasons I developed this disorder is complex. I know that I was affected by the pressure I felt from a very young age to be perfect, the weirdness that arose in my family dynamics after the divorce and feeling that for society I was worth more as a woman the skinnier I was. The final trigger must have been a genetic predisposition and a bit of mystery: there is still a lot that science doesn't know about all this. Once my disease was established, it became a vicious, out-of-control cycle that was perpetuated by the worst evil of all: silence. I felt a deep shame, thought it was my fault and that, hence, I deserved what was happening to me. That made me sicker and I vowed to hide it, which was possible because these disorders are invisible: they lock themselves inside bodies of all types, gender, background, shape and turn them into slaves.

When I stopped vomiting and regained control of my hands, I wrote this. It feels weird. After seventeen years of being in a symbiotic relationship, there is something I still don't understand: if I am no longer a sick girl, then who am I?

#bulimia #anorexia #eatingsdisorders

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a-student-out-of-time · 3 years

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ASOOT Timeline: September 2012 (Cloudy with a Chance of Cults)

The time has come. Grab your umbrellas, put on your raincoats, and settle in. We’ve got a Storm to deal with.–Timeline Anon

September 25:

Nikei visits Setsuka. He’s been looking up information about Maverick, and he’s discovered that literally every foster parent Maverick ever had committed suicide. Setsuka relates the story of the one time she met Maverick when she was at Hope’s Peak; he told Umeko that Setsuka thought she was a disgusting pervert, Umeko avoided Setsuka for a week out of guilt before Setsuka found out what was going on, and when Setsuka confronted Maverick about this, he threatened her with a disturbing anecdote about how people are like baby birds. She changes the subject to ask how things are between Nikei and Taira. Nikei confesses that he does like her, but he doesn’t know what his sexual orientation is, and trying to figure it out has been a minefield of issues in and of itself. Pretty much the only thing he’s worked out so far is that he tends to get crushes on people who are kind to him. Setsuka hugs him and tells him that how he labels himself is entirely his decision and that he’s a good person who deserves happiness. Right before he leaves, Nikei asks about Setsuka’s family, and she hints that she has issues with her mother.

Sonia makes breakfast for the Cuddle Puddle (minus Hajime and Hiyoko, who are still at Izumi’s). Iroha stops by and shows them her drawings of the people in Mikako’s vision. Hibiki is very happy to hear that she and Hajime will have a daughter, and Mikan is reassured by the implication that her adoption of Kotoko will be successful. This is a timeline they definitely want to work towards.

While Maku is out on an early morning jog, he comes across a wall of 20 different missing person posters, including one of Kanon. All of the missing people vanished from their homes between August 20 and August 22. Maku lets the other Voids know right away, and they in turn inform the rest of the Quantum Crew.

At Hope’s Peak, Chiaki and Mikan find out that the Student Council has been hit hard by the mass disappearances. Aiko’s online friend Damian is gone, as is Kiriko’s younger brother Hiroyuki. Both of them were acting depressed before their disapperances. Chiaki and Mikan promise Aiko and Kiriko that they will find everyone who went missing. They suspect that Maverick is involved.

Yoruko goes to Takayama and visits her old senpai, Minako Tomori, who is the mother of Kizuna Tomori. Minako and Yoruko both apologize about what happened when they last saw each other 13 years ago, and they agree to be friends again. As they reminisce over old pictures, Minako tells Yoruko that she was a single teen mom during her hostess days and that she was working that job to provide for not only her younger siblings, but baby Kizuna as well. Now, Kizuna is a vivacious albeit materialistic teenager who is the most popular girl at school and the captain of her cheerleading squad. However, Minako is concerned about the attention Kizuna gets (and encourages) from boys, and she worries that it might be her own fault for how she raised her. Minako is happy to hear that Yoruko has a girlfriend, though.

Sora keeps watch over Yuki’s house and nearly has a panic attack when he’s late coming home. He does show up eventually, but he seems sad, and he looks at something in a drawer before going to have dinner with his mom.

Umeko and Kokoro have to go back to Hope’s Peak to deal with the new situation. Mikako insists on tagging along, as she thinks that her powers were meant to help save people. Kokoro initially refuses because she doesn’t want to put her daughter in danger, but after Umeko points out that having Mikako there might be a benefit for the Quantum Crew, Kokoro agrees under the condition that she stays safe at Hope’s Peak. Yamato is also coming with them.

There are now 53 people missing. The Quantum Crew and their allies in Class 77-B meet at Hope’s Peak to discuss what they know so far. Most of the disappearances are of teenagers, they all showed signs of depression, and they all seem to have left their houses on their own. Kyoji argues that the crew must devote all their resources to dealing with Maverick as soon as possible, lest he use indoctrination to create a cult, but Chisa and Chiaki think he’s being reckless and underestimating the police’s possible involvement in order to leap at the chance for revenge. They talk him down and help him to remember that he’s part of a team that needs to work together. They also encourage him to reach out to Miaya. Sora pops by with the news that she’s found a mysterious code amidst the deleted data on Damian’s computer.

As Hajime and Hiyoko get ready to head back home, Izumi tells Hiyoko that while she’s disappointed in her decision to marry Hajime, she will accept it, but she’s keeping an eye on them. Also, she’s not pulling Hiyoko out of Hope’s Peak, at least not for now. Hiyoko hugs Izumi and thanks her for listening to her. Hajime and Hiyoko are pretty much engaged now, and Hajime promises to take Hiyoko to see her parents after the Maverick situation is dealt with.

There are now 72 people missing. Kazuichi’s trying to crack the code, with some online help from Chihiro, while Sora’s checking the websites in Damian’s search history to see where he could’ve gotten it from. Kyoji has a brainstorm and realizes that the code is a VPN password. The gang wonders how Maverick sent out the VPN, and Ibuki suggests that it was sent throught the mail. Chiaki goes to ask Kiriko if Hiroyuki got anything strange in the mail, and she mentions finding a brochure on his desk for a place called Sunny Days Vacation Island…the same brochure that was delivered to the Cuddle Puddle yesterday.

Sora checks on Yuki’s house again, but it’s too late. He’s gone.

Hibiki brings the brochure to the rest of the group just as a distraught Sora tells them about Yuki’s disappearance. They find a QR code on the brochure, and scanning it allows access to the VPN. After Sora checks to make sure there’s nothing on it that can brainwash anyone, the Quantum Crew watches the Sunny Days video. It’s Maverick Storm, offering an escape from all the pain and stress of life at Sunny Days Vacation Island, where you can focus on enjoying yourself and never have to worry about anything ever again. The Quantum Crew is horrified.

//And so it begins : P

#mod talks #a student out of time #submission

4 notes · View notes

goldeneyedgirl · 4 years

Text

Jaliceweek20 Day 1

Against a Wall Part 2

Jaliceweek20 Day 1: Human/Vampire

Words: 6264

Notes: It is DONE. JALICEWEEK IS DONE. I am tired, so I’ll do a wrap up tomorrow. I’m honestly not sure how happy I am with this ending - I’ll write more notes tomorrow once sleep had been acquired but there still might be a third enormous rewrite.

I’m just so excited I finished EVERY SINGLE PROMPT.

Warnings for: suicidal ideation.

—

Nineteen.

There was a shoebox under his bed with a bunch of stuff in it, that he’s collected over his life. Stuff that was special - Sorates’ collar, a rock shaped like a dog, the rubber spider his grandfather bought him from the dime store. And the last thing he put in it was an unopened back of Skittles.

He wonders where that box is now.

—

Things are hard to remember. The doctors say his memory should return, with time, and everything will stop feeling like someone scooped them all out of his brain and threw them up in the air like confetti.

He remembers… Ava. No, not Ava. Yes, Ava, his sister.

She did something.

Ava lit the fuse that had been dangling over the family for six years. Wasn’t Ava’s fault. Never blamed her. He hurt for her.

Louise found the bit of paper and freaked out, yes. It was Ava’s paper. Evidence. And Louise was shrieking. And Jerry heard.

Everybody heard. He remembers making Flo and Hettie stay in the kitchen, hide under the table if you need to (the screen door is banging, Lydia is gone like a puff of air at the first sign of trouble; wish she’d taken Flo and Hettie this time). Hettie had already been sniffling, and he’d left the kitchen.

Bang.

He’d gotten between Ava and their father.

He would have killed them both; that look in his eye. There wasn’t love or affection in that gaze. There wasn’t recognition of his children. There was just rage. That’s a look he wished he could forget; of all the things lost in the confetti, he wants to know why that moment that Jerry looked at him and Ava (Ava was bleeding, can’t remember why) is still there?

Then it’s a blur. Then there’s nothing.

Then he joins the military. He walks away entirely, with only what he can carry and doesn’t leave any parting words because there’s nothing to be said.

No. Something happens before that.

Ava packed her car, yes, packed in Hettie and Flo, suitcases and boxes, and at the last minute Lydia materialises into the passenger seat, whilst their mother tries to … beg? Yell? Ava’s face is black and blue and bandaged, and there was someone he knew who could fix that, with Mary Poppins’ bag…

Then Ava drives off, and their mom is crying, and he walks straight to the nearest recruitment office even though he doesn’t graduate for another three months because once the bomb has gone off, there’s no taking it back.

—

What was the bomb again?

Bomb. Which bomb?

Ava’s, not the one that… not the other one.

Paperwork from Planned Parenthood. There was a baby, but Ava’s already raising her sisters, so she sucked it up, stole $500 from their father’s study, and took care of it. She’d thrown the money back in their father’s face, money she got from her own account, and their father had punched her so hard he broke her nose and her orbital bone, and then it gets blurry again.

His body stings and aches and itches. He recites all the swears he knows in his head, and a few he doesn’t, and he wishes everything would put itself right again.

Bang.

—

The other bomb. That’s why he’s here, in the VA hospital. The one that was strapped to a little boy who ran up to one of the guys in his unit, grinning and clutching a soccer ball to hide the shape obscuring his torso.

Bang.

Bombs don’t sound like ‘bang’ either. They are a vacuum of noise and pain and detritus and fire and he now knows the sound-taste-smell of roasted human fresh. They are wiping out all but two members of a unit and a little boy who didn’t have a choice or an idea of what he was getting into.

The images are burnt onto his brain forever; when he closes his eyes, all he sees is a face roast black and splitting open to reveal the ruby red of the blood and muscle underneath, leaking clear and yellow fluid.

Empty, black eye sockets staring, just sticky blackened holes.

Bodies arched and twisted in pain, looking like blacked trees and burnt bark until you remember where you are and what you’re looking at and some of that burnt bark flesh is your own.

He wishes those memories would disappear.

Less than a year in the army, and already medically discharged. So much for an escape plan. Has to be a record, shortest army career in Whitlock family history. Shorter even than Uncle Wyatt’s, but Wyatt was smart enough to die outright, so it’s just a damn tragedy instead of a humiliation. He knows how the game is played.

Fuckin’ Whitlock curse comes for all of them eventually.

The skin graft hurts like hell, and the medication is still scrambling him, and even when the doctors have pulled out every last stitch, he still looks like some kind of monster pieced together from leftovers. There are still scars, dozens of scars. He asks when they’ll go, but the doctors just brush over his question - plastic surgery is the most solid of answers, but nobody wants to commit to an answer, so he guess he has it. This is how he looks now.

They fill his pockets with pills and send him on his way with their gratitude for his service, as if he has somewhere to be, someone to go to. He’s got nearly ten months of army pay just sitting there - minus a chunk that confuses him until he remembers he’s been sending money to Ava, a neat row of transactions he’s simply labelled ‘miss you’.

Should’ve sent her more.

He stays in Houston, doesn’t bother going home. There’s nothing there for him - his sisters are gone; Ava’s in Austin for college with the girls. Ava, who is somehow juggling three sisters, a college degree, probably a part-time job, and all her own pain.

Maybe he should go to Ava. But the idea of dragging himself all the way to Austin, to sleep on a couch or something, and have his sisters see this ruined version of him makes him want to hide.

The idea of his shaking hands, and the crisscross of scars, and limp being seen by sweet Hettie, dear Flo, sharp Lydia, and tired Ava; knowing they’ll hear his uneven pacing, his wild panic, his endless nightmares makes him stay away - he can’t even pick up the phone. He failed them so many times, and he can’t expect them to put him back together now. Ava’s got nothing left for herself, the others are too young; Lydia’d be graduating this year, she doesn’t need a fuckin’ ghoul of a brother hovering in the background after everything she went through. Better they remember him as he was, as the name on a receipt, that whatever he is now.

His mother is probably still there; working too many hours at the VA hospital and burning toast and being tired. She wrote to him once or twice after he left, and he hated how those letters made him feel. They were all messy apologies and excuses and blame and misery framed in the day-to-day monotony of her life. He felt her hollowness at being left, the mother of five with no children in her home. She should have been helping Lydia pick a prom dress, arranging her graduation party and college tours; driving up to visit Ava at college; sending him inedible cookies; dropping Flo off on her first date, and spoiling baby Hettie even though she’s almost in middle school. But she couldn’t. Because they’d all walked away.

He didn’t write back. He was too angry then, and now he’s … nothing. She feels like a ghost to him, like she died the first day Jerry hit him, and she slowly faded away every Tuesday after that.

And Ava’s the only name on his paperwork, for next of kin and power of attorney shit; and that’s only so she could have his money when he was gone.

His father’s still in Sheldon, he has no doubt of that. He hopes Jerry dies in that empty old house, abandoned by everyone he should have loved better, cared for better and surrounded only by the bottles that he let salt the earth and poison his family.

His uncles are still there, as reliable as the rising and setting of the sun, most likely ready and waiting to jeer at Jasper for his wasted attempt as a soldier, for his patchwork of skin and scars, for his limp and his confetti memory; to fail so fantastically after ten lousy months. No diploma, no future, no plan.

Not even old enough for a fuckin’ drink.

Still a better shot than Bo, though. Sometimes he wants to ask them, though, to look ‘em in the eye and demand to know what they expected from him - the sole Whitlock boy, the heir to a name that meant sweet fuck-all these days - when all they did was punch him when he was down? That letting a kid get beat up, then get insulted and demeaned and mocked and yelled at… that didn’t create a good man, that didn’t create a happy, successful person. They did everything they damn well could to see him gone, failed, erased and that was before he joined the goddamn army. There was no brotherhood in the Whitlock name. Even if he had gotten out unscathed, he would have run til no one knew him, and he wouldn’t have gone home again.

But he didn’t, and here he is having bitter arguments with old men who aren’t even there.

He sits in his motel room, takes his pills with water from the bathroom, and occasionally remembers to find food. He doesn’t sleep well on the hard, musty motel bed; the nightmares come in waves even when his brain is like mush from the medications. A car door slamming, a yell from the street, the smell of cooking meat - it all sends him skittering, panicking, pacing. He can’t stop moving, and his bad knee swells up and finally he gets his hand on some liquor and he ends up slung into the stained bathtub barely able to think. Definitely not able to stand.

He just wants it to stop.

The mostly-empty bottle hits the grimy tiles and smashes, but he thinks of a girl with amber eyes and a magic bag and a watch that she gave him - hurled at him. He remembers sleeping on a cold, bony shoulder in an alley, her voice sweet and warm.

She was so mad with him that last night. He did end up back behind Dewey’s again, on more than one Tuesday, but he didn’t see her again. And it wasn’t long after that when everything went to hell, so he never got to say goodbye. Say sorry for being a dick.

He can’t quite remember what they were arguing about that last night. Whiskey and valium have chased that memory away, and his head slumps over as he sleeps. Or looses consciousness. Either way, he doesn’t have to exist for awhile, and it suits him just fine.

—

Time passes. He finds a cheaper motel, because there’s a corner of his brain that is somehow still functional and practical, and he knows what money he has has to be stretched. Someone from the VA calls his cellphone and he ignores it. He takes his pills - less than usual, because they’re running out.

His knee hurts.

He breaks a lamp and the mirror after a nightmare, and ends up at urgent care getting his knuckles stitched up by some intern who asks him too many questions. Tries to give him pamphlets, and he resists the urge to punch the doctor in the face.

The doctor does write him new prescriptions though. That’s helpful. And he gets something to eat at the cafeteria. It starts out as a bad night and ends up being one of those mornings he almost feels human, as long as he doesn’t look in the mirror.

That’s why he picks up the phone when the VA call again.

That’s how he finds himself sitting outside the VA hospital with a paper bag of the shit he left behind. His mother’s letters, his dog-tags, and an extremely broken watch.

“Happy freakin’ birthday.”

He looks at it closely now, more closely than he did when he was given it - even if it was thrown at his head, it was a gift in his mind. The brown leather strap is stained and nearly torn through, and the brass buckle bent. The face is cracked in an almost perfect spiral. The face is mottled cream, with neat gold Roman numerals; several have come loose and rattle along the bottom, along with the minute hand. It no works, and he hopes that the internal gears are still functional.

The watch will need to be repaired professionally, to be taken apart and pieced back together. A new glass face and band, the numerals and hands put back in the rightful place.

He doesn’t even remember wearing it, that last day. He knew he had it with him the entire time, through basic training and everything, but he didn’t remember wearing it. He’d had some chunky digital thing that told him the weather and GPS and shit that had been responsible for the mutilation of his left wrist.

Carefully it into his jacket, Jasper stands and begins the walk back to the motel.

Nineteen, still.

Sometimes, he thinks about going back to Dewey’s, just to see if she ever turns up again, on a Tuesday. For some reason, when he thinks of her - Miss Alice, in her funny clothes, and her lilting voice - he thinks of her exactly how he remembers her, that she is fixed in time and will never change. That he could return to that alley a week, a year, a decade from now, and she will still be there with her bag of tricks and big golden eyes.

He thinks about her a lot. He never knew where she came from, how old she was, why she spent Tuesday nights in an alley with him. He hopes she’s safe, comfortable, and happy.

He hopes she still thinks of him.

Time marches on, and he can see his twentieth birthday rushing up to greet him. He’s done nothing to change his circumstances - the cheapest hotel room, a fistful of pills on an empty stomach, patchwork sleep haunted by corpses. The PTSD special.

He finds a bar that respects his service more than his age, and they’re happy to let him drink himself numb in the corner as long as he doesn’t make trouble, and slips out the back if the cops come round. But even when they do, and get a good look at the scars, at his jacket, at the look in his eyes, they usually just nod and move along. No one asks questions, just counts out his crumpled money and then slides his drink along the bar.

Life doesn’t feel worth much on those nights.

Stumbling back to the motel, drunk and dull, he never notices the footsteps. He just goes to his room, his home, and passes out on a stained bedcover fulling clothed, waiting for the nightmares to kick in.

—

When the nightmares press in on him, and he’s lying on the bed staring at the discoloured popcorn ceiling, all he really wants is to go home again.

Not to Sheldon.

To the ranch.

Before Hettie, before Tuesdays, before everything. Where they buried Socrates under the tree with the treehouse, where he learned to ride, and would catch rabbits, and everything was easy. He still got told off by his father for being such a disappointment, but back then, they still had the family property, so his father wasn’t so angry.

He’s stone cold sober - aside from the Vicodin and Valium rattling around in his stomach - when he decides to go home again. He even stops in at a grimy diner and shovels in a plate of eggs and some coffee before he buys the bus ticket.

He knows the old place never sold; bank couldn’t shift it. Sold some of the land, but the old farmhouse just sits there, rotting. The Whitlock curse strikes again and again, into the heart of everything.

It’s a long trip; only way out there by bus is to go via San Antonio, and then down towards the old farm on another rural bus that only runs a few times a day. And he didn’t think much about how to get from the last bus stop to the old house proper, but some old guy in a truck takes a good hard look at him - his stained jacket, his limp, the scars twisting around his limbs and under his clothes, and offers to take him wherever he’s going.

He’s stiff and sore and hungry, but he doesn’t worry about any of that. The driver’s polite, amicable, doesn’t ask too many questions but gives him the number of the only cab in town for his return trip. He nods his thanks, and begins limping up the old driveway, towards home.

The house is… sad. Not like his memories, of blood red geraniums in the window boxes, and a pile of sneakers and boots in a jumble by the front door. There aren’t any bikes leaning up against the porch railings, either. Hell, the porch has a hole in it, the wooden rotten through. The yard is an overgrown tangle - probably concealing a few snakes.

The treehouse has long since collapsed, the wooden remains jutting out from the overgrown grass like a shipwreck. Socrates’ little grave is probably still there, under it all, with the brick he and Lydia painted his name on. He was a good cat.

He’s not going to go into the house, and now that he’s here, he’s not sure why he came at all. It’s just a house he once lived in, like Sheldon. But there is something peaceful about being back here, sitting on the - thankfully brick - front steps and staring out at the road. No cars come by, neighbours are too far away to matter. It’s just him.

He lets his thoughts float. More than once, he’s wished he’d been able to keep his service weapon, finish the job the bomb started. He thought about other ways - swallowing all his pills till there’s nothing left in the bottle; buying some razor blades and cutting along his seams; finding a motel with rafters he can loop a belt around. But he doesn’t. He hasn’t. He doesn’t know why - the thought is like a mischievous cat looming over his shoulder. The cat with a too-big smile, from Hettie’s books. Sinister yet convincing and trustworthy. But the thought lingers, and right now, he wishes he’d come prepared because … it’s quiet here. It’s quiet and he associates it with good things, and he’s really, really tired.

His VA shrink said that disassociation was a common symptom of PTSD. There were methods of dealing with it, techniques he could use, but he didn’t bother remembering them. Sometimes it was nice not to feel things, to be entirely seperate from himself for awhile.

When he comes back to himself, the afternoon has turned to night, and he’s an idiot sitting outside an abandoned farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, in a town with one cab. He swears under his breath, and the two braincells that are still desperately trying to keep him alive blaze into action, as he fumbles for his cellphone.

At least it isn’t dead.

He doesn’t even notice the sound as he dials, but as the phone rings he looks up in confusion, as a woman walks up the drive. She’s small enough for his heart to jump in misguided hope, waiting for that smile, those eyes, and that stupid bag that he placed so much faith in.

Her eyes are red, and her hair is long and brown. Her lips stretch too far like that stupid cat, and she takes the phone from him so gently and crushes it into a find powder. And he wishes he’d stayed drunk and high instead of staying sober and coming back to his childhood home like some kind of fucking book character.

She calls him ‘mi amor’ and apologises for what comes next.

He tries to back away, but stumbles on his bad knee, and when she hurls him back up effortlessly, she dislocates his shoulder and probably breaks his arm, and for a moment his vision swims and he yells, and that is only the very beginning of the pain.

—

In his few lucid moments over the next seventy-two hours, he wonders when he gets to stop suffering. When he finds the end of the tunnel of pain, from Tuesdays behind Dewey’s, to being half-burned alive, to be put back together and drugged senseless to function, to whatever this woman has done to him.

It feels kind of like the bomb did, except like it is taking him slowly. If he could open his eyes, he’d expected himself to be blackened and splitting, like the crust of a volcano.

If he could be sick, he would.

He thinks he screams himself hoarse. He might just think about doing it.

Red eyes watch him the entire time, with the ruby-coloured too-big smile, and if he still believed in god or fate or family curses or anything aside from the slow drip of pain in this veins, he would think she was the devil incarnate.

—

Time passes. He doesn’t know how much, since he woke up in the rotting remains of his family’s home with a burn in his throat, and Maria waiting for him. She’s quick to reassure him of his new status as a god, quick to find him something to quench the burn (the boy is young but strong and bulky; probably a high school football player. Healthy and full of blood and cries for his momma when Jasper half-rips his throat out. She is quick to caress his cheek and to kiss him long and deep and to fuck him in the wreckage of the house.

Maria’s clan is small - only nine of them counting him. They are suspicious of him, of the way he stares and stays quiet. But Maria is quick to ease any of his own misgivings - newborns are entirely unpredictable, volatile. He is her new pet, her treasure, her mijo.

He loves what he is, truly. He leaves the pill bottles rattling in his pockets in the dirt of the farmhouse floor, and strides confidently after his new mistress. His leg is strong again, and all the scars have melted away into smooth, hard stone. He came to the farm looking for something, and he found it - himself, the way he was always supposed to be. If life had been kinder.

He’s found himself a soldier in another war, but war is a lot easier when you aren’t weighed down with equipment or fear or stupid fucking rules. When winning a battle means glutting yourself on blood, and losing means instant death, and there’s nothing in-between.

They are so fast now, hunting grounds stretch from Monterrey to Corpus Christie to San Antonio.

He refuses to go to Austin but sometimes its hard to remember why. He nearly kills Lucy when she tries to take the others to Austin, and Maria’s lips purse but she says nothing and they go to Laredo instead. They create a few more newborns, but he notices Maria’s attention to him never wavers; they are like pets, whilst he is her devoted prince.

(Later, he’ll find out it was only six god-damned months he lost. That he turned twenty and Lydia graduated somewhere in an Austin high school, and a bunch of people - mostly social workers and VA employees - were looking for him with the fear of the worst. He’d tell them that whatever ‘worse’ was, they weren’t even close.)

They figure out his gift during one furious early battle that leaves his arms and neck littered with bite marks, and they don’t go away. The venom works too fast, the bites are too deep, and he is once again a mess. A monster. His rage ripples around the camp, and everyone huddles in on themselves, and even Maria cowers a little, cooing and trying to settle him.

He makes them afraid, he makes them tremble, he tries to force them into fixing the unfixable.

Maria is so pleased with his gift, he is never punished for his tantrum. And more bite marks layer upon his skin; when he frets over them, with a sneer on his face, she laughs and promises he’ll have many, many more before they are done.

—

Nineteen, always.

Reconnaissance in the back of Houston is required, and Jasper and Maria take a small group with them. Maria is insistent there are others on their lands, and that is a crime of the highest order. They will destroy the newcomers, feed, and return to Monterrey. They each pick a point of Houston, and agree to meet in the centre.

He is ordered to the northeast, and he goes without resistance; he knows soldiering is following orders, and Maria lets his resistance to Austin go unremarked upon.

Most of his human memories are hazy, like they are so very much older than they really are. The streets he stalks are almost familiar, and he keeps his head low - more because of the blazing red of his eyes than any fear of being recognised.

There’s an aged but enticing aroma that he follows, that smells of nice, soft things; not fresh enough to guarantee a confrontation (or execution), but one that is a regular in this part of town.

It’s late enough there are few people in the street, in this working-class part of town. Even the dive bar has gone dark, and only the drunks and shift workers are left stumbling around. It’s not even hard to snag one of the less aware drunks around the wrist and vanish around into the alley with him.

His blood is nothing memorable, and it’s not hard to make the drunk look like he tripped and slashed his neck on a smashed bottle in the alley. He’s good at staging these scenes; at making things look like terrible, despicable accidents.

“Oh, Jasper.”

The words are soft and murmured, and he can’t decide whether they are sad or relieved or something in between. All he knows is that there is a sweet-smelling threat behind him, and he spins around with a snarl.

She’s only as tall as a child, with uneven black hair curling around her cheeks. She’s one of the prettiest girls he has ever seen, with huge amber-coloured eyes that remind him of porcelain dolls. She’s wearing a sky blue sweater a size too big over jeans with stars on the knees, and staring at him with hope and regret.

In the back of his brain, that little bit that is not quite human and not quite animals looks at her hard and breathes in her roses-and-rainwater scent and simply thinks, “Yes. Good.”

But the louder part recognises her as the trail he has been following, the one that Maria wants destroyed. A growl rumbles from within him, and the girl just looks sad.

“I’m so, so sorry Jasper,” she says, still standing there, not the least be defensive. “Carlisle and Edward forced me to stay away once you left, and then I tried to watch you but I lost track of where you were…” Her eyes are shiny, as if she wants to cry. “Do you remember who I am?”

The question hangs in the air between them, his growl fading away as he stares at her.

She steps closer, and he glares at her. The animal brain is getting louder - “Yes-good-yes-good-yes-good.” Her emotions are threatening, mostly sad, and she’s tiny. Nothing bad could be so dainty and pretty.

She’s right in front of him, standing on her toes as she presses her hand to his face. “I’m Alice,” she says simply, and his mind folds itself over and over again in an instant to provide him with an answer to this riddle, to this girl that is so clearly something good and known to him.

And he remembers.

“Are you okay?”

“It’s a stupid fucking decision you’re about to make.”

“At least I didn’t break it worse.”

“Happy freakin’ birthday.”

"They just looked nice. Happy.”

“I’ve come too far to watch you die in this disgusting place,”

“Alice,” he says hoarsely, and his memories of her are clear, sharp. He can remember that one strand of hair that always fell into her face; her ice cold hands roughly patching him up; the constant, lilting companionship of her voice, even when he slept. She is so clear in his mind he wonders how he forgot her in the first place.

Her smile and emotions bloom with joy all at once, and it warms him all the way through. It’s the kind of happiness that eluded him during his human life, and one he has not felt, waking up with this gift that feels like everyone’s emotions are constantly crawling on him. It’s something he wants to wrap himself in like armour.

“I’m so, so sorry,” her fingers brush a scar on his neck so gently, he wants to shudder.

“What for?” he asks, wanting to know if he can touch her. She’s so pretty and clean and is a good thing, a precious thing.

“I see things. Things that are going to happen,” Alice says, as she inspects his arm with a frown. “And when I saw what was going to happen to you in the army, I got mad that I couldn’t protect you anymore. And when you came home, I didn’t realise she was following you until it was too late and I couldn’t work out where you’d ended up. I would have come sooner if I’d known, I swear.” She turns his arm over to reveal a bite mark on his wrist and impulsively kisses it.

He flinches; the contact magnifies her emotions - and his - and it skitters pleasantly along his body.

“I don’t…” he begins, his voice still gravelly from lack of use. “I don’t blame you.”

“I do,” she replies softly, and then she backs away and that is disappointing enough that he takes a step closer to her. She giggles and smiles at him again, and he will follow her anywhere.

“You have to make a choice now,” she says, and he nods hypnotically.

“You can go back to Maria,” her voice wavers again, and he doesn’t like the coldness that sweeps through her at that statement. “And fight and kill until she’s bored with you. She creates war and destruction and monsters, Jasper, and I don’t want you to go with her. She will destroy you, and I couldn’t bear it if…” She stops, turning her head away and stays silent for a moment.

“Or,” her voice is steady again, “you can come with me.”

She holds out her hand.

“My brothers and sisters are distracting Maria and her friends for now, you and I can get away, and go somewhere safe,” she continues. “Just you and me together. I can…”

He never knows what she was going to say because his choice is made, his hand taking hers without a second thought, and she stares up at him with wide eyes, her mouth a perfect ‘o’.

“Are you sure?” she manages, and he nods. He thinks of pain, human and immortal. He thinks of rage and regret. He thinks of his lowest point as a human, of the permanent bite marks on his arms, and the weight that has only shifted now that he’s immortal, not lifted away.

He thinks of being happy and safe and clean and peaceful. He thinks of a girl sitting next to him in an alley, with her throat burning, but her only worry about his bruises.

The girl who can back for him.

Everything is still muddled, from his human life, but he knows that lot of people took him apart and remade him in both his lives. She’s the only one who tried to heal him.

“Let’s go,” he says, and she laughs sweetly, and then they are running faster than anyone can see as they disappear into the night.

—

‘Home’ is a cabin in the middle of the forest, somewhere towards the north east, he thinks. No people around, just wild animals for him to glut himself on. There is the constant running of the river beside them, covering their scent against nomads. It is quiet here - a good place to figure out the edges of his gift, to learn resistance and control, to try and heal and reconcile all that happened to him in such a short space of time.

Alice tells him Maria was indescribably desperate after his disappearance; their exit covered by a well-time rainstorm that washed all the scents away. She had torn apart Houston in her fury, and now she was in more trouble than she knew.

Meaning that Maria wouldn’t come hunting for him any time soon. And, he supposes, when she does, Alice will know. Alice knows everything.

She knows that he likes to sit on their front steps and just stare out at the forest without being disturbed. That the scent of smoke and fire sends him twitching worse than any vampire she’s ever met. That the scars that mark his arms, neck, and face are simply placeholders for the ones he gained as a human, and his disgust over them lingers from the injuries he suffered in war. That he misses his sisters, and they are one of the reasons he is so resolute in his control training. That, if nothing else, he will say good bye and fake his death to give them closure. Alice promises him that she knows someone who can help them figure all those kinds of details out, but she wants him to see his sisters one last time almost as badly.

He knows that Alice loves him, as truly as anyone has loved before. That feeling never wavers, not through his rages, his depressions, his disassociation. That just watching him read a book on their (broken) couch has joy blooming inside her. He knows that Alice will never pressure him, never ask him for more than he is ready to give - and because of that, he is willing to give her anything she asks.

Some days are harder than others, especially when Alice talks to him about her family - the one she walked away from for him - and he knows that she wants the both of them to return to the Cullens sometime in the future. And he feels obliged to do it, eventually, since her jumble of siblings were a part of his escape plan - the most dangerous part, if it involved aggravating Maria. But she never asks, just talks to him about them.

But mostly, he’s okay. Good, even. Animal blood is disappointing, and sometimes he’s so agitated he can’t sit still and wishes for … a battle, to run, to do something other than sit, and read, and hunt animals, and talk. Alice blames it on his newborn year, and he tries so hard to contain it, but it’s hard.

She tries to make it better, and on days that he can stand to be touched, she teaches him all the old-fashioned dances she knows, and he spins her around and sometimes it does make it better.

He’s got regrets, a laundry list of them, but Alice says that isn’t unusual; it takes very specific circumstances to be changed - especially young - and be satisfied with the final outcome. When he asks her regrets, she shrugs and admits that she doesn’t even remember being human. Leaving him unprotected is her biggest regret, and that makes her sad, which he doesn’t like the feeling of.

So he puts his arm around her, and she curls against him, and that makes the sadness evaporate, and she beams up at him with golden eyes he could drown in, and one thing he will admit is - that despite the pain and unhappiness that followed him from human to immortal - that he will never, even regret taking her hand.

#my fic: against a wall #my writing: against a wall #jaliceweek20 #jasper hale #alice cullen #twilight fic #jalice

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365days365movies · 3 years

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March 9, 2021: Orpheus (1950) (Part One)

Greek mythology was my first mythological love.

And yes, that is ironically a very cliché thing to say about Greek mythology, since it’s by FAR the most popular and well-known mythology in the Western world, but...what can I say, I’m a sucker for the classics.

When I was 6, my mom got me a copy of the Odyssey, followed by D’Aulaire’s Book of Greek Myths, and that book was my SHIIIIIIIIIIT. From the Titanomachy to the Trojan War, from Decaulion to Daedalus, from the Lernaean Hydra to Ladon, and from Zeus to Dionysus (my second favorite Olympian), I LOVE Greek mythology.

There have been countless adaptations of these stories over the last century of so, some better and more faithful than others. We got Blood of Zeus (which I...genuinely dislike) on Netflix last year, Lore Olympus is a fantastic webcomic and modernized retelling of the universe of stories in general (fuck Apollo, that’s all I have to say), Hercules by Disney is fun (though extraordinarily inaccurate), and who doesn’t like some Percy Jackson (the books, not the movies)?

Today’s entry won’t be the first of the Greek mythology stories this month; after all, it’s DEFINITELY fantasy, so there were going to be a few entries in here. Some will come pretty close to each other later this month, but for this one, we’re jumping forward 10 years from The Thief of Bagdad to 1950. Let’s get back to France, shall we?

Famous for his adaptation of Beauty and the Beast is Jean Cocteau, legendary French surrealist filmmaker. His stylings definitely capture a sort of practical magic, compounded with clever angles and fascinating visual and practical effects. It’s evident with the classic fairy tale, which I would’ve done this month had I not already seen it. So, instead, we’ll be looking at the middle film in a trilogy known as Cocteau’s Orphic trilogy. This is, apparently, the most important one. And that makes sense, since it’s focused upon...

Is Hadestown good? I’m real tempted to find a way to watch it, and it sounds like it’s just up my alley. I’ll probably check it out one of these days.

Orpheus was (maybe) the son of Calliope, the muse of poetry, and Apollo, god of music. Maybe. Parentage differs based on the retelling. No matter the parents, he was renowned for his charm and grace, as well as his voice and music. He was loved by animals, nymphs, and maidens alike. He was invited to be the Bard of Jason’s DnD group (AKA the Argonauts), and used Bardic Performance to inspire his comrades (and also helped them overcome the sirens by singing EVEN LOUDER).

But the one whom he loved most was his wife, Eurydice. Unfortunately, a satyr (AKA horny horned half-goat man) chased her right into a viper’s nest, where she was bitten and died. Orpheus was CRUSHED, and his song was so depressing that even the gods cried. They said, “Dude, go to the Underworld, get back your lady from Hades, please!” And he did.

Hades, the old romantic that he secretly is, agrees to let Eurydice’s soul, on one condition. That he doesn’t look back at her as she follows him out. Orpheus agrees, but the man can’t stop himself from looking back to make sure that she’s there. And she was...and then she wasn’t. So, our sad boi fucked up, and then...well, it’s spotty.

See, some people say that he stopped worshipping Dionysus (his previous patron), and the wine boi’s female followers tore Orpheus to pieces as punishment. Some say that these same women got a liiiiiiiiiittle too into the Bacchanalia (think orgies, but religious and violent), and ripped him apart in a frenzy. And some say that he only took male lover from then on, and women tore him to pieces for not paying attention to them (also, possible homophobia). You know, it varies. Still, we can agree on the ripped apart by women thing. His head could still sing, and as the women threw his body parts into a river, it sang a song so beautiful that the rocks and branches in the river refused to strike it. His instrument of choice, a lyre, was eventually interred amongst the stars as the constellation Lyra.

The story of a pained artist searching for a lost love and losing her is all over the goddamn place, with the crazy-ass Moulin Rouge being a solid example of it.

But OK, let’s finally begin Orpheus, or Orphée to be more accurate. Gonna be a weird ride, I guarantee it. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

The story starts with a recap of the original myth, and notes that it doesn’t need to be limited by time and place. This sort of story, after all, could happen anywhere and at any time. And in this case, that time and place are 1950s-era France, where we quickly meet famous poet Orpheus (Jean Marais).

At a café, he meets a friend, the Editor (Henri Crémieux), where they speak on Orpheus’ fame, which is not well-liked in a cafe frequented by poets. Also arriving there is a young drunken poet, Jacques Cégeste (Édouard Dermit), who is accompanied by his patron, known only as...the Princess (María Casares). Come on, guys, can we give our female characters names, please?

Anyway, Jacques quickly gets into a drunken brawl with other patrons, which leads to the arrival of the police at the café. They forcefully arrest him, but before they can, he’s hit by a couple of motorcycles, and potentially killed. The police bring Jacques back to the Princess’ car, with the help of her driver Heurtebise (François Périer). For unknown reasons, she summons Orpheus to help them. He agrees, and goes with them to the hospital.

Or he would be, if they were going there. Instead, as they drive off, Orpheus discovers that Jacques is dead already. They aren’t going to the hospital. Instead, they head to a mysterious mansion, as ominous and oblique poetry plays on the radio. They’re soon accompanied by the men on the motorcycles that killed Jacques, who work for the Princess. The plot fuckin’ THICKENS.

Back at her mansion, they bring the body of Jacques upstairs, much to the confusion of Orpheus, whom the Princess keeps calling stupid whenever he asks questions. However, he’s not proving her wrong, as she immediately convinces him that she’s actually dreaming at the moment. Although...maybe he is?

She sits in front of a mirror, which breaks...somehow. Frustrated, she commands Orpheus to wait there for her to return, as she goes to check on Jacques and her men. Like me, Orpheus is confused. This gets worse for me, though, as the Princess goes to the other room and tells the dead Jacques to get up. AND HE DOES. Well, Jacques’ a zombie, I guess. He identifies the Princess as “his Death”, which she agrees to. She tells him to hold on to her coat, and then...

...I got questions. I GOT QUESTIONS HERE.

They go through the mirror, and the Princess’ henchmen follow, just as Orpheus walks in. He also has questions, and he tries to go through the mirror, to no avail. Completely confused at this point, he passes out against the mirror, alone in the mansion. And then...he’s outside.

Yeah, he’s just outside now, and waiting there is Heurtebise, the chauffeur! Orpheus is freakin’ out, and Heurtebise has no answers for him, but has been told to take him back to town once he...arrived. OK. Still questions.

In town, the disappearance of Orpheus is being discussed by a police inspector, his wife Eurydice (Marie Déa), and her friend Aglaonice (Juliette Gréco). Aglaonice doesn’t seem to like Orpheus very much, as she’s trying to convince Eurydice that he’s cheating on her. And that’s hard to argue, since he was last seen with the Princess. However, just as there’s about to be a scandal reported by a spontaneously appearing journalist, Heurtebise and Orpheus arrive home.

After a rough encounter with the journalist, he arrives home to a relieved Eurydice, and an enraged Aglaonice, whom Orpheus also dislikes heavily. He’s apparently forbidden her from entering his house, and tells her off. The Inspector leaves too, and asks Orpheus to come to his office to discuss the matter of the missing Jacques.

Eurydice reminds Orpheus that Aglaonice is dangerous, as she runs...the League of Women. Well...I think we know what role Aglaonice is going to play by the end of this. Her and her League of Bacchanalian Women, get me? Yikes. Anyway, the conversation turns into an argument, when the EXTREMELY ornery Orpheus basically just storms off, being a DICK to his poor wife. And when he goes upstairs to his room, he actually sneaks out of the window.

Meanwhile, Heurtebise comes into the house to offer an alibi to the pained Eurydice. While she doesn’t quite believe it, the two share some time together and seem to bond. However, when he smells gas from the stove, Heurtebise lets it slip that he committed suicide by using a gas stove. He covers it up before Eurydice notices the slip-up, but...OK. So, “the Princess” is death. Going by the traditional Greek myth, she’s some form of psychopomp, and the world beyond the mirror is the Underworld, I can only assume. OK...I can dig it.

Orpheus, meanwhile, is at the car, listening to the strange radio poetry and writing it down. The, uh, “Princess” is busy as well. Like a ghost, she walks into the household and watches Orpheus as he sleeps. A narration refers to her as Orpheus’ death. Funny, I’m pretty sure that’s going to be Aglaonice’s role.

Two days later, Orpheus is increasingly obsessed with the poetry from the mysterious radio and its odd messages. While Eurydice seems to mock this obsession, Orpheus also seems to be far too enraptured in it. But, interestingly, the messages seem to be coming from nowhere known. However, it’s all beginning to affect their marriage greatly.

On the phone, the Inspector comes calling, and Eurydice asks Heurtebise to answer the phone. He does so, and soon after, we see the phone float into place, as if placed there by a ghost. That’s confirmed as Heurtebise phases to the outside from nothing, where he meets Orpheus and informs him of the message. The two decide to head to the Inspector in his car, rather than the mysterious talking car.

While Orpheus goes through town, looking for the Princess rather than the Inspector, there’s something that I wanted to mention here. Call it an interpretation. Apparently, Heurtebise is often considered an angel by critics and interpreters. However, I’m gonna suggest that he’s actually supposed to be a representation of Hermes, the messenger god and a psychopomp who escorted souls to the Underworld. Not sure about the Princess yet, but Cocteau apparently never meant for her to be portrayed as actual death. Interesting.

Meanwhile, at the Inspector’s office, both Aglaonice and Orpheus’ poet friends (supposedly) are accusing Orpheus of being involved in Jacques’ disappearance. The Inspector turns them away, just as Heurtebise and Orpheus reconvene in town. While Orpheus didn’t find the Princess, Heurtebise says that she came by, saying that he could stay with the married couple for now.

Speaking of the Princess, we see her at night, staring over Orpheus. And her eyes are...strange. They seem artificial, and it bothers the EVER-LOVING SHIT out of me. And the whole affair isn’t helping Eurydice either, as she’s tired of Orpheus’ obsession with the car, and is planning on going to Aglaonice for advice. Heurtebise tries to stop her from doing so, but she insists. But when she goes...the motorcyclists come for her. And she’s dead. As proven when the Princess arrives through the mirror.

Alongside her comes Jacques, acting as the Princess’ servant. She notes to him that their work isn’t easy, and couldn’t be done if she were dressed in the way the humans portray her. So, she is seemingly Death, or at least an aspect of Death. Obviously, as we’re talking about the Greek story, we can assume that she’s meant to be Hades in particular. But, we’ll see. It’s also confirmed, by the way, that the mysterious messages are indeed Jacques’ poetry, recited by him on the radio waves from beyond the grave. Neat.

Heurtebise is clearly upset with what’s just happened to Eurydice. He asks if the Princess actually had orders to kill Eurydice. She avoids the question, and guesses correctly that Heurtebise has fallen in love with Eurydice. He confirms this, and counters with the fact that the Princess has seemingly fallen in love with ORPHEUS. The plot fucking THICKENS.

Good place to pause, I think. Halfway mark and all. See you in Part Two!

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fantastic-rambles · 3 years

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The Skylark’s Song [1 /4]

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

Characters: Hibari Kyoya, Hibari Kyoya’s parents, Unnamed Gang

Warnings: Violence, Gang, Implied Rape, Attempted Murder, Murder, Police Corruption, Gaslighting

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: My personal headcanons of the (pre-canon) experiences that made Hibari into the man that he is today. Part One: why he has such a strong hatred of crowds and the beginning of his commitment to discipline.

(The other parts won't be this dark. I think.)

It had been a day like any other.

On a warm spring afternoon, they'd gone out together as a family to his school festival, nine-year-old Kyoya running from attraction to attraction, his parents following at a more stately pace but always keeping him in sight.

"Mom! Dad! Here, here!" he called out, practically bouncing with excitement in front of his classroom. Laughing, they caught up to him, following him into the room as he tugged at their hands.

The walls were covered with the students' essays, and Kyoya paused by his, his chest puffed out with pride. Indulgently, they bent over slightly to read what he had written in his neat but still childish hand.

My Dreams

When I grow up, I want to be a great person like my dad. Dad is a hero, fighting the bad guys who are making people sad. He's like a policeman or fireman, except he's even cooler than that! Dad and Mom both love Namimori and want to make this town into a happy place for everyone, and I want to help them. They also love me very much, and I love them, too.

He beamed up at them as his mother knelt to hug and kiss him while his father ruffled his hair. Their pride practically emanated off them in waves, and Kyoya was the happiest that he could ever remember. After the festival, they'd gone to his favorite family restaurant, where he ordered a hamburger steak, still chattering away happily about school: how he was the top student in his year, how his teachers praised him for his work, what he was learning in class now... His parents had been smiling throughout his monologue, sometimes asking questions to encourage him to keep speaking.

But the day had to come to an end eventually, and the setting sun found them walking back to their house, Kyoya hanging onto his parents' hands and occasionally just completely lifting his feet off the ground so that he could swing between them, making all three of them laugh. By the time they arrived home, he was completely exhausted from running around all day, barely able to change into his pajamas and brush his teeth before he fell into his futon. The last thing he remembered before sleep claimed him was his mother sitting beside him, softly humming a lullaby.

It was completely dark when a loud crash woke him. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes sleepily, he called out, "Mom? Dad?"

But there was no answer, though he could faintly hear voices elsewhere in the house. Still only half-awake, he followed the sounds to the brightly lit living room, freezing in the doorway as the sight unfolded before him.

Men he didn't know were standing all around the room. His father knelt in the middle, his face battered and dripping blood onto the floor from a broken nose, while his mother sobbed quietly in a corner, held back by two men. A couple of the other men had wooden baseball bats... and guns. Kyoya started to shake as he recognized the weapons he'd only ever seen on TV before. Too scared to step into the room but too afraid to run away, he was frozen in place, at least until one of the men standing by the doorway looked down and saw him.

"Well, what's this?"

As he bent down, his movement caught the eye of Kyoya's mother, and he saw stark terror spread across her face as she recognized her son.

"KYOYA! RUN!" she shrieked. As if a spell had been broken, Kyoya turned and obeyed, his bare feet pattering on the smooth wooden floors as he blindly sought an escape. Suddenly, his familiar home was filled with strange shadows that jumped out of him, making him flinch in the dark corridors, all too aware of his pursuer behind him with steps like thunder. He'd just shoved open the sliding door that led to the garden when the man caught up, seizing him around the waist and swinging him onto his hip with ease.

"No! Stop! Let me go!" Kyoya yelled, pounding against his captor's back with his small fists. The man didn't even try to silence him--they lived too far away from anyone else for the commotion to be noticed--and returned the way they had come, eventually dumping the child in front of his mother. She grabbed him immediately, curling herself around him protectively and pressing his face to her chest as he squirmed, trying to turn around and see what was happening.

"Come on, you don't want to do this in front of your wife and kid, right?" a voice asked, harshly mocking. "Just give us the data and we'll leave, no harm done. It's not like we like doing this either, you know."

A few of the other men chuckled, covering up his father's quiet response, and Kyoya felt his mother cringe just before there was a dull, wet, thumping sound that was repeated several times. It sounded just like when they smashed watermelons on the beach.

"Change your mind yet?" the voice asked, sounding slightly winded. The only response was a groan and panting, and the voice sharpened. "Hey, bring me the kid."

"No!" Kyoya was pressed even harder against his mother's chest, half-smothering him, as hands reached out to grab him, trying to pull him away. Now he began to cry as his limbs were pulled roughly, twisted behind his back or jerked as if they were trying to rip him apart, but his mother still clung to him.

"Take me instead! Please! Leave him alone!" she begged above his wailing.

The voice clicked his tongue, then replied, "Fine, whatever. Shut the kid up."

Her hands ran through his hair, and she pressed a kiss to his forehead, murmuring quietly, desperately. "It'll be okay, Kyoya. Be quiet, shhh, shhh, shh. It'll be okay."

"Hurry it up," the voice snapped, and they were suddenly wrenched apart, the absence of his mother making Kyoya start crying again, until one of the men casually backhanded him in the face, the sudden pain shocking him into silence as the taste of blood filled his mouth. He subsided into small whimpers, his hand pressed against his burning cheek, as he watched his mother forced to her knees next to his father. The man who seemed to be the leader of the gang tossed aside his bat and reached into his pocket, pulling out a switchblade that he flicked open before crouching down in front of Kyoya's parents.

"You've got such a pretty wife, Hi-ba-ri-san," he taunted, resting the blade against her face. "It would be a real pity if something happened to her, wouldn't it? Looks are everything to a woman, after all. Do you think you'd still love her if she was all scarred, without her nose and ears? Would she still love you, for letting it happen to her?"

"You'll kill us anyways, after you get what you want," Kyoya's mother spat. "Just get it over with. We won't tell you anything."

She flinched as the man dragged the weapon down the side of her face, leaving a thin red gash across her cheek, but she continued to stare at him defiantly. The man snorted, getting to his feet.

"Brave woman. But let's see how long that lasts. Hold her down." He began to unbuckle his belt, his comrades grinning as they dragged the woman down, piling on to stop both Kyoya's mother and father from struggling. Kyoya didn't understand what was happening, but he saw the look on his mother's face, and he ran between her and the man, spreading his arms wide to protect her.

"Stop bullying Mommy!" he screamed, tears and snot running down his face as he shook like a leaf. The man's face twisted into an expression of disgust and annoyance.

"Someone take care of this brat," he ordered, and another man stepped forward, hefting his bat in his hand.

"You got it, boss." Like a cleanup hitter getting ready to smack a home run, he drew back and swung, the sharp crack drowned out by the shrill screams of Kyoya's mother and the hoarse cries of his father. Kyoya collapsed, and the last thing he remembered was the feeling of a foot in this stomach, kicking him out of the way.

He awoke with a splitting headache to a room full of people and bolted upright, screaming, "MOMMY! DADDY!" Startled, somber faces turned to look at him, and a woman in a police uniform walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him soothingly as he kept screaming for his parents. Bright sunlight was falling into the room as other men and women walked around, taking pictures and putting things into labeled plastic bags. The policewoman cradled his head, then drew away in shock, her hand tacky with blood.

"We need paramedics!" she called out, carefully lifting the boy into her arms and heading toward the door. Draped over her shoulder, Kyoya continued to scream, his eyes fixed on two lumps in the middle of the room, covered with white sheets.

A week later, Kyoya stood in the Namimori graveyard, watching as two caskets were lowered into the ground. His head was still wrapped in bandages from the surgery to repair his fractured skull, the doctors having proclaimed it a miracle that he'd even survived. The young boy's eyes were dry as he stared at the marble headstone, dressed somberly in black and surrounded by adults.

Shock, they whispered when they thought he couldn't hear them, shaking their heads sympathetically. Poor boy. Who could have ever imagined it? They had seemed like such a perfect family. But everyone has their skeletons.

The case had been wrapped up quickly: a murder-suicide. Kyoya's mother had found out about his father's affair, and in the midst of a passionate argument, he'd killed her. Consumed with regret, he'd then attempted to kill his son before taking his own life. The boy's story was nothing more than the result of head trauma and a completely understandable psychological refusal to accept the truth. So he'd invented a wild tale of home intruders, blaming nonexistent ghosts for the crime while repressing his memories. The officers in charge of the investigation hadn't even bothered to write down his account, sitting patiently with him for hours in the hospital as they tried to explain what had happened to him.

But he knew. His parents had been slaughtered by that pack of animals: weak, undisciplined cowards too afraid to do anything alone. And they'd had enough influence to cover up the crime, so that the only thing that was published was a short obituary listing his parents' names and ages, and the fact that they had been survived by their child.

Heroes didn't exist. But that didn't mean that he couldn't get revenge.

[Part 2]

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #reborn #fanfic #fan fic #hibari kyoya #kyoya hibari #hibari #character study #headcanon #mine #don't ever expect chapter titles from me #i can barely come up with story titles

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fairfowl · 4 years

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Hot Chocolate and Liquor (I Need A Drink)

April 2nd 2019, the remaining Hargreeves tie up loose ends (Klaus-centric, no Sparrows)

this fic is also on AO3

They arrived on April 2nd 2019 to an empty tomb of a mansion, echoing and cold. By the staircase Grace had booted up and greeted them warmly, leading them down to the kitchen for a snack as though nothing had ever happened.

There was no sign of Pogo.

No sign of Reginald.

No apocalypse.

After everything that they'd experienced the anticlimactic calm had been surreal. The six of them had followed their mother's measured footsteps down the halls of their childhood home, politely averting their eyes as Diego wiped tears away.

Five had led, with Vanya close to him. Diego and Luther followed side by side, while Klaus trailed after Allison, his fingers ghosting over the sleeve of her dress as though he was afraid of getting lost. Allison bore her brother's clinginess well, eventually grabbing and holding his bony hand in hers as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

Both of them were shaking, but neither said a word.

Mom brewed hot chocolate uncannily quickly, and with more skill than Klaus had seen from professional chefs. Miraculously his flask had survived their battle and time travel, after pouring a hearty dose of the contents into his hot chocolate Klaus generously donated the rest to his siblings. Vanya, Allison, and Five accepted his offer—some more gratefully than others—while Luther and Diego declined.

Instead Diego had turned to the counter and said something completely unprecedented.

"Mom, why don't you come sit down with us?"

Their mother was widely considered to be unflappable. Klaus had seen her wrist deep in her childrens' guts, standing between knife wielding teenagers, and facing her own demise, all with the same demure expression on her face. But now she paused

“Sure” She said finally, smiling, her blank processing expression turning to the familiar bright smile that she wore so often. “If it makes you kids happy.”

It did.

She placed a plate of perfectly arranged cookies at the center of the table before sitting beside Diego, her back straight, prim and proper, while the six of them silently drank their hot chocolate. It felt like a tiny little revolution.

Allison had been the first to stand. Her graceful fingers had ghosted over her wedding ring as she explained.

“I need to talk to Claire.”

Five had nodded immediately, and the others followed suit. Klaus gave his sister a smile and two thumbs up before returning to his drink. He wondered idly if he would be able to summon Raymond, it was possible that he had died in the fifty-six years they’d travelled to be here. If he were alive he would be in his late eighties. Klaus hoped he’d had a good life, for Allison’t sake.

As Allison left he switched the mug in his hands and grasped the hem of Vanya’s oversized shirt, rolling the stitches between his pointer and thumb hello.

Vanya looked at him, at first surprised and then soft, she said nothing but scooted closer. Across from him Diego met his eyes as Luther watched Allison go. Her heels made a quick anxious tap tap tap as she walked away.

“What are we going to do now?” Klaus broke the silence. “Now that it’s all over do we just go back to what we were doing before? Go our separate ways?”

The remaining siblings shifted uncomfortably, glancing at each other.

“I don’t really have anything to go back to.” Luther said, running a large finger over the table’s wooden surface. “The last four years I spent in this time were all wasted on another of Dad’s lies. It’s not like I can just go back up to the moon and do nothing.”

Luthor’s expression was caught between a rueful smile and a grimace. The look on his face was all but alien to the rest of the siblings, who had rarely seen Luthor look anything but neutral, annoyed, or smug. Klaus wondered if the ability to move his face was something that he’d learned on the moon, or if he’d picked it up during his time as an underground boxer who worked for the mafia.

And wasn’t that still surreal.

“I don’t have anywhere to be either.” Five chimed in, staring at his hot chocolate as if it held all the secrets of time and space. He seemed shocked by the prospect. After decades of single minded survival, years of assassinations, and two weeks of mad running to stop the world from ending, it must have been outright bizarre to find himself with nothing else to do.

“You could join me!” Klaus interjected, unwilling to let the mood sour without at least an attempt of a joke. He pointed at Five. “I have a lovely little alley behind Dunkin Donuts that’s just lovely this time of year.”

“Why didn’t you invite me to your alley?” Luthor’s face turned to a more familiar annoyed expression.

“You wouldn’t fit.” As he spoke Klaus jolted slightly as Vanya’s small hand shot out, wrapping around his wrist.

“You were living in an alley?”

“Not really.” He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t really live anywhere Vanya. It’s just a nice alley.”

Vanya looked as though she doubted that.

"I think I'm still first chair." She murmured, there was something heavy in her voice. Klaus wondered if she really even wanted the position. "But I also think I probably still killed Leonard."

There was something matter of fact in her statement, a resignation to accompany the guilt.

"That doesn't matter." Luther frowned. "He was evil."

If only it was that simple.

"Were your fingerprints on any of those knives?" Diego asked, his expression thoughtful.

"No, but there should be some in the house …. And in his car."

“Ours would be too then.” Diego said, drawing one of his knives and fiddling with it thoughtfully. “Allison, Five, and I all went to his house to look around.”

Klaus frowned, glancing about the room before he remembered that the presence that he was looking for wasn’t there. If Ben wasn’t around then he’d have to think for himself. Vanya’s hand was warm on his clammy skin.

“Remember when we were kids, and Dad would send Ben into a room with all the bad guys so he could ‘take care of them’?” He used his free hand to make air quotes. “We kind of committed murder all the time and never faced consequences for it. Why should we now?”

It was a horrible thing to say, arrogant and callous and extremely typical for the Hargreeves family. His siblings nodded uneasily. The room felt colder.

“How did Dad make all of that go away?” Klaus continued.

“He had a lot of connections.” Luther ventured, his mug dwarfed to the comparative size of a shot glass by his giant fingers. “Between him and Pogo they could just sort of make anything go away. I think he had connections with the government somehow.”

“Do you think we could inherit any of those connections?” Vanya raised her head, pushing hair out of her face. She was so pale that her eyes seemed black against the whiteness of her skin, even in the warm light of the kitchen.

“Maybe.” Luther looked at Diego as if he was expecting a challenge, but Diego simply whittled at the edge of the table, his expression conflicted. Klaus doubted that their tentative plan sat well with their brother’s zealous sense of justice, and he was grateful to Diego for the restraint that he had shown so far. After their time in the 1960s, his experiences in the psychiatric hospital, his failed attempt to save Kennedy, and whatever had happened with Lila—Klaus really was confused about what had gone on there—must have exhausted him.

Either that or Mom’s presence had mellowed him out.

Speaking of Mom.

“There’s a form in your father’s office that can be used to deal with casualties. Once filled out it can be submitted electronically to an anonymous government agent who then proceeds to clean up any loose ends.” Her smile was like the ones shown in toothpaste commercials.

“Well fuck.” Five’s time stopping the apocalypse really had done nothing for his manners.

*-*-*-*-*-*

Really they hadn’t known if it would work—they still didn’t know for sure—but it was better than doing nothing. After they had brought her up to speed Allison had put it well.

“It’s a good first step.”

So they crowded together in their deceased father’s office, their voices hushed as though they were still children under Reginald’s watchful eye. Above them the unmarred portrait loomed, unyielding and perpetually disdainful.

“I wonder if he was ever happy.” Vanya murmured, looking up at the painting as Luthor opened the file cabinet. Allison perched against the desk her eyes on Klaus as Klaus in turn watched Vanya.

“I doubt it.” Five responded coming up to stand beside their sister. “Whatever else he was, Reginald Hargreeves was a terminal malcontent.”

It was a grim pronouncement for a man who had ultimately committed suicide, but certainly not untrue. The terminal malcontent and his seven little natural disasters, spinning out of control at every opportunity.

Six.

Klaus wrapped his arms around himself, his right hand resting on his left shoulder Hello. Sky Soldiers. Hello Sky Soldiers.

Luthor made a satisfied noise as he found the folder in question, drawing out the form and placing it on the ostentatious hardwood desk. At the door their mother watched silently, her default serene smile cemented to her face. Five took the paper, scanning it clinically as he held one of Reginald’s fountain pens in his hand.

It looked expensive and Klaus wondered how he’d missed it during his first looting of the office. It had been only days ago technically speaking, but for Klaus nearly four years had passed. The siblings who had once been exactly the same age down to the hour were now staggered across a few years’ worth of experiences.

Physically Klaus was the eldest, but mentally Five had half a decade of trauma over the rest of them. Sometimes Klaus caught his brother’s eyes and those decades seemed especially apparent.

“We had forms very like this at the commission.” Five’s voice was high pitched and childish, but his intonation held the heaviness of his age. “The field agents use them to account for accidental collateral damage, it’s pretty standard paperwork. This one has a CIA stamp but otherwise it’s nearly word for word.”

For a moment the siblings were silent. The fabric of Allison’s dress slipped across her knees as she shifted, Diego leaned forward, peering over Five’s shoulder.

“Creepy.” He pronounced, long hair falling down to brush his cheek. Klaus wondered if he was going to shave it all off again now that they were all back. “Did you have to do that a lot?”

“No. I was never sloppy enough to need it.”

Klaus wanted a cigarette. He hadn’t smoked in three years, nothing, not even pot. After being spat out into 1960 he’d relied too much on Ben’s manifested abilities to get high, and after everything else cigarettes had hardly seemed worth it. Once Keechie had joined their group and started using charisma and psychobabble to push them all towards clean living Klaus had written nicotine off entirely to avoid losing control of the nebulous but extremely enthusiastic spiritual collective that had congregated around him.

But the cult wasn’t there anymore.

Ben wasn’t there anymore.

He settled for biting his lip and mentally going over what he remembered of their father’s alcohol selection. At this point in life his memory was shot, but some things stuck out with obsessive clarity. He knew that there was top shelf vodka and gin behind the bar, scotch in the cabinet, ecstasy in his unicorn plushie, oxy in the infirmary, and a razor blade taped to the inside of the light fixture in the upstairs bathroom.

He’d always had a good memory for escape routes, it was what had made him a good lookout in their childhood exploits.

They filled out the paperwork in short order, and handed it to their mother to deliver. Even Five couldn't figure out who it would go to, but it was integrated into Grace’s programming and they collectively decided to trust her on this.

When they’d finished Allison hopped off the desk in a flurry of crinoline, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

“I’m going to get changed.” She said fingering the material of her skirt. “And then I need a drink.”

Klaus smiled

“Way ahead of you.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

They congregated by the bar. Klaus had poured for Vanya first before measuring out a shot for Five and himself. Diego and Luther hung back, looking at the bottles of liquor warily. Luther’s experiences with alcohol were limited to the one night days before the apocalypse, and if he’d had any feelings about that night he had yet to share them. Diego on the other hand had enough experience to know that he was better off if he avoided drinking in excess.

And he wasn’t shy about sharing his opinions.

“Really Klaus?” He looked disappointed, judgemental but not angry.

“I already fell off the wagon Di, I might as well.” Klaus took the shot, Five and Vanya followed as Allison entered the room.

Her hair was pulled back and her clothes were much more modern.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you wear a t-shirt in years.” Klaus commented as she sat down. Their sister had changed into light wash jeans and a mustard yellow top. It was a sharp contrast from her extremely fashionable bespoke hollywood wardrobe, and the gorgeous dresses that she’d worn during their time in the past. She looked nice and Klaus wondered if he should follow suit. Wearing black felt right but he was getting chilly.

He took another shot instead.

Diego finally shrugged, sitting beside Klaus at the bar and motioning Luther to follow him. Behind the bar Five rummaged for a moment before popping back up with a satisfied expression and a green bottle. He poured himself a generous amount before sliding the bottle towards Allison and Vanya. Klaus could smell the familiar pine-y scent of gin.

He poured himself another finger of vodka before passing the bottle into Diego’s waiting hand.

“We should make a toast.” He said, mostly to fill the silence. Even surrounded by his siblings he felt alone, bereft of Ben’s familiar presence.

“To what?” Luther asked, looking to Klaus as though he were expecting an order. For a man who had been raised to believe that he was a leader Klaus realized that Luther was absolutely most comfortable when following directions; whether the trait was a result of nature or Reginald’s grooming he couldn’t tell.

“To Ben.” Vanya piped up, firm and confident in a way that she would have never been before. Klaus nodded.

“To Ben.”

#The Umbrella Academy #tua #klaus hargreeves #tua fanfic #original #my fic #look ma I wrote sad garbage

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thirdbasedumpsterfire · 4 years

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Doby vs Toby a comparison Part 1

Alright so as I'm sure many of you know Third base and it’s main character Doby Doggers were originally created as a response to Ticci Toby’s removal from Creepypasta. Doby was created as a respectful yet spiteful way to replace Toby in fan work (His name being a direct correlation, Doby Doggers, Toby Roggers) That was why I latched onto him to begin with. He was also made to fit the role toby filled hence why the story follow the same general beats.

Despite this I don’t talk a lot about Toby on this blog. Partially because Kastoway wants us to forget him and partially because I don’t want to treat Doby like a rip off character. Doby is his own character and in my opinion RJ did a great job at making an original character with a familiar vibe.

Still, as much as I don’t want Toby to define Doby that is where he started. Plus it’s a lot of fun to compare and contrast the two of them and their stories. So that’s what I'm here to do. Strap in because this’ll be a long one.

Quick disclaimer I’ll be stating a lot of my personal opinion in this. If Toby still means a lot to you thats great, but spoiler alert I prefer Doby’s story.

Also this will obviously spoil both stories as I'll be discussing every aspect of the characters and their stories including the endings.

TW for Suicide, Death, Car accidents, Mental illness, Nightmares, Paranoia, Hallucinations, Child Abuse, Drinking, Murder, Arson, Psychosis, Transphobia, Dysphoria, Ableism

There’s a lot to compare between these two stories so let’s start with their stories.

STORY

Tragedy & Sibling Relationship

Both stories start with tragedy and the first shared element between them. Both stories center around a close sibling relationship torn apart but death.

For Toby that was his older sister Lyra. She died in a car crash that Toby was also in. Lyra isn’t given much character (which is a recurring problem in Toby’s story) but it’s clear that she and Toby were very close. He loved his sister more than anything and she was his only friend.

For Doby it was his older brother John. John committed suicide while living with their mother. Doby lives with his father. We’re told a little about John. He was a painter and collected art from the thrift store, He and Doby would talk for hours about baseball and Doby’s love life. We know they were very close even after their parents divorce.

The most interesting difference between the two in this aspect is the difference in situation. Toby was bullied into homeschooling and his father was very abusive. As a result he didn’t have any outside friends. He also didn’t have any other family relationship as he saw his mother as a coward for how she took the abuse and obviously hated his father. This made Lyra his only friend and only human to interact with. There was also a difference in the type of trauma her death gave him. Toby has CIP-A which means he can’t feel pain so when the crash happened he didn’t pass out on impact he was conscious and saw his sisters injuries. He watched her die.

Doby by comparison was in a fairly normal environment. His parents were divorced but beyond that he had a typical upbringing. He and John were more organically close. Johns death was a different type of trauma because it was suicide. Suicide is a different thing to a car crash. both are sudden but one I more preventable than the other. Suicide leaves those left behind feeling responsible or at very least looking for somewhere to place the blame. Doby blamed his mother’s refusal to help John and her narcissistic attitude for Johns death.

Parents and Family Relationship

this is the key difference between the two. Toby has been abused for years, he is still in an abusive situation, and just lost his sister. He was beyond traumatized to begin with so it’s no surprise he was so easy to push over the edge.

Doby by comparison had a normal childhood. His mother was terrible and verbally abusive but she was removed from the picture when he was young. He also grew up trans and that certainly affected him but his father, brother, and friends accepted him giving him a good support system.

Toby and Doby both had abusive parents but Toby was kept in that environment his entire life whereas Doby got out of it young. That is the main difference between the two.

Even when it came to the “good parents” Toby had his mom who was complicit in his abuse. Doby at least had a supportive and loving father.

Slenderman

Of course both story’s incorporate Slenderman as a key plot point. Both characters are Proxies.

Slenderman is not mentioned by name in either (why would he be)but his representation differs in an interesting way.

Toby’s story describes him as an image we as Creepypasta fan are familiar with, a tall pale man in a suit standing under a streetlamp. This can be attributed to the time it was written back in slendervers’s hay day. His affect on toby is quite extreme. Toby suffers hallucinations, vivid night terrors, extreme paranoia, extreme dissociation, an allure towards arson, and of course homicidal tendencies. He show’s severe PTSD symptoms as well.

Toby’s problems go as far as seeing his dead sister with horrible injuries during a night terror. Despite his situation his mother get’s worried enough to take him to a psychologist.

Doby however, never really directly sees or describes Slenderman. The story takes advantage of our knowledge as creepypasta fans much like Toby’s. Except now we don’t even need explicit description all we need is the connection to the woods and the knowledge of Doby’s connection to Toby’s story to recognize the monster of the story.

Doby’s decent is also a lot more subtle as well. It’s little things that eventually lead to the ending. Most of the focus is on him mourning John. He thinks endlessly about it and disassociates as a coping mechanism. Eventually he begins having night terrors. They aren’t outright threatening at first but just the prospect of losing his brother over and over again pushes him to lose sleep. Doby doesn’t suffer hallucinations either (which is rare in slenderverse) He is sleep deprived and deals with intrusive homicidal thoughts about his mother.

Murder

Toby and Doby both murder their abusive parents in the end and set the house on fire before running off into the woods. Beyond that the circumstances behind the murders differ greatly.

If Toby were to have been tried in court he would have been charged with Voluntary Manslaughter if he wasn’t found not guilty by reason of insanity. I believe he likely would be. this is because Toby didn’t plan to kill his father. He certainly meant to be it was a crime of passion. He killed in the heat of a moment of rage.

The reason I say he would be found not guilty by reason of insanity is because of the severity of his mindset. Toby is a true proxy through and through he was not in control when killing his dad. He wasn't not in control when he set the neighborhood on fire either. Toby was completely dissociated. He certainly meant to kill and wouldn't regret it but he was gone when the killing happened.

If Doby were tried in court he would have been found guilty of First Degree Murder. Doby planned to kill his mom and that’s the key difference between the two murders. He wasn't set off in a fit of rage, he was cold and calculated. He broke in, made sure she couldn't get to the phone, broke plates to get her downstairs, and hid in the dark until she was within a bat swings distance. He was very there unlike Toby. Doby absolutely knew what he was doing.

That’s the difference. Toby wanted to kill his dad but wasn't in control. Doby wanted to kill his mom and did the only influence Slenderman needed was getting him to go through with it.

Endings

The last thing I’ll talk about in this post is the ending of both stories.

At the end of Toby’s story his mom walks in on him having killed his dad. In a panic he runs outside and lights the neighborhood on fire before presumably dying. Then we step into his mother point of view as she move in with he sister. she’s mourning the loss of her family when she sees a report of a serial killer on the loose that is presumed to be her son.

Doby’s story ends much more open-ended. He smashes his moms head to a pulp before lighting her house on fire. he walks out with tears in his eyes and calls Johns voicemail telling his brother that he’s coming home before walking out to the woods.

I think these endings sum up very well the differences between these two characters and their stories. Ticci Toby is a horror. Third Base is a tragedy. sure they each have a hint of the other but they are mainly those things. That difference is in everything from the tone, to the character development, to the motivation, to of course the endings.

In the next post I'll compare and contrast the characters themselves so stay tuned~

~ Mod Vilet

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iggy-of-fans · 5 years

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Daminette AU part 3

I just want to say thank you so much for the people who liked, reblogged and asked to be tagged! I wasn't sure this would be received well and I'm so grateful you all like it! So here's part three, of about four or five parts. It gets intense again after some fluff and I hope I keep your interest. Please let me know what you think! I love feedback!

Justice League meets Miraculous, Adrien breaks more than his mind

Adrien has been seeing Maria's ghost everyday but doesn't show it. He's been planning to get the Miraculi of the ladybug and the black cat, so he can wish Mari back, and make a perfect world for her, where Alya, Nino and even Lila and Chloe all get along and his mother and father are well and together (when the police searched the mansion they found Emily Agreste's near corpse and brought her to the hospital. Turns out all she needed was proper medical care, but she was trying to use Dusuu to be free from Gabriel forever and by extension Adrien because he was just like his father in her eyes) and everything is happy in his world. He thinks it's Marinette's mission to him to make sure everyone is happy and it's what she wants. He is so far gone, and thinks the Miraculous Cure and his wish will make everything okay and so is willing to kill whoever he needs to. So he breaks out of prison, killing the guards for the "name of love". He then goes to find Nino and Alya, to help him get Mari back. And Alya says yes. She wants revenge on Ladybug for letting her get put into jail, she's just doing her job! She still thinks Lila was innocent, but she also feels bad that Marinette commited suicide, because she thinks that they could all just be friends. So she thinks Adrien's demented plan will turn everything perfect, with her two besties finally getting along. Nino is finally realizing how demented everything had turned, and he says he'll help, but plans on telling Ladybug as soon as he can.

Marinette wakes up at Wayne Manor, Damien is asleep in a chair next to the bed in some sweats and a t-shirt. His wounds were healed but he's still dead tired. At the foot of the bed lies Captain, the kwamis all cuddled up in his fur. Next Marinette notices she's wearing a shirt (likely Damien's since it falls only off one shoulder. The scar on her arm where the kids from Paris injured her is plainly visible, a big pink puffy reminder that she isn't good enough for this wonderful family that have been taking care of her. Damien wakes up suddenly when she tries to move and looks so relieved she's awake. He immediately gets up and asks her if he can hug her, because he'd been so worried. She asks why and finds out she's been near comatose for almost a week. The Kwamis and Captain all wake up and join her, hugging her and checking her over. She realizes just how much energy it took out of her to bring back all the people who died and rebuild three cities. She asks him why he still cares when he's seen her scars and he looks at the arm she holds out. He asks her is she trusts him and when she nods, he takes his shirt off, revealing his back full of scars from his early childhood training and his chest from his hero work. He tells her that she made him accept himself, scars, flaws and all, because she had always treated him with kindness, no matter which mask he wears. She's so touched, and she hugs and cries into his shoulder, because no one has ever accepted Marinette so completely. Eventually they realize how hungry they are and Damien throws his shirt back on and grabs a nicer, long sleeved shirt for Marinette and some shorts that fit her like capris.

Downstairs at lunch, the entire bat family is sitting, like zombies, dead tired and worried about their littlest member when Damien and Marinette join them. They are all out of their seats and swarming around Marinette, asking her if she's okay and what she needs to feel better (tea? Chocolate? Dessert?) and she finally feels loved and just asks for whatever food is already made. Alfred has been making any of her favorites he knows of every day hoping she'd wake up and he brings all the leftovers out for her to enjoy. He even tried his hand at French macaroons and she tears up because she's so grateful. While at lunch, Bruce tells her that the league wants to meet her, especially Wonder Woman, since her mom used to be a Ladybug before. Marinette worries about this but Bruce assures her that she would be well guarded with at least one of the Wayne's around, and Captain and Titus there as well. She was also allowed to come fully transformed so that she can just disappear whenever she felt the need to. So she smiles and agrees to meet them, and they plan a huge Gala for the League and Teen Titans to meet their newest little member, and he explains it will be civis for everyone else and why.

A week later, (Marinette has been going back to the pent house because she still feels better about it, and she needed clothes) at 11 in the morning, Bruce started welcoming member of the League into his home. They came dressed in casual wear, hidden under illusions for some of the more outlandish looking members. They are all comfortable in the Gala room when Damien walks in, guiding Marinette (dressed in her own design, a casual summer dress with a Mandarin Collar and long red lace sleeves with black polka dots and a black skirt that fades to red at the shoulders, and a simple black mask) and everyone's jaw drops. Bruce and the batfam all walk to the entrance and Bruce introduces "Guardian Angel" a play on Damian's nickname for her and her duty as guardian of the Miraculi (and because to them she really is a guardian angel, because she's always there when they need her most, or just seems to know when they need her). Embarrassed but not willing to let her mood be ruined, Marinette smiles shyly at them all. The rest are still trying to pick up their Jaws. This beautiful little mite is the one that saved their lives? Wow! And is Damian actually SMILING? Wtf?

Diana is the first to recover and goes to meet the newest Ladybug, saying she's practically her sister because her mother had been Ladybug once and she wanted to know everything she could. Marinette tells the League about what happened in Paris, and at first they deny that they could've missed that. But when they check their phones they're shocked. With the Mayor being imprisoned, the news finally leaked world wide and sure enough, it was all there, every detail. They were shocked, seeing how the continued exposure desensitized the citizens and how horrible people acted towards each other. They all apologized to her for not stepping in, but commended her for her ingenuity, leadership skills, and ability to keep level headed even though she's so young. She smiles and meets everybody, guessing who most of their superhero personas were by herself. She is never without Damian at her arm, getting anything she could want, and the Teen Titans and Super Boy notice this. They're all shocked at Damian's turn about, how he reacts to the slightest twitch or facial change, how he steps in and changes the subject, or how he leads her exactly where she needs to be. When lunch is served, Alfred makes sure all her favorites are there, and when the dancing starts, the batfam all dance with her, but Damian doesn't even look at Raven when she asks for a dance, simple humming before stepping back in to escorts Marinnette off.

In Paris things are taking a dark turn. Max refuses to help them, having learned this lesson, but they manage to kill his parents and only helping them get to Gotham will make his life better. He manages to hack the Agreste plane and autopilot it to USA. Once there, the two crazed teens and two reluctant teens start making their way across to Gotham, leaving a trail of dead bodies behind. The closer they get the more despicable. They stop off in Metropolis and meet Lex Luther, who is willing to give them whatever they want to kill the new heroine in Gotham. Nino, with the help of Max, is finally able to send a warning out to Gotham, a video that he sends out to everyone who lives in Gotham that Adrien is coming, that he used to be Chat Noir and that he's completely lost his mind.

As the Gala is coming to an end, Tim's phone beeps with a notification that one of his flagged words got picked up on. He plays the video for everyone to hear and Marinette becomes paler by the second.

To be Continued….

@spicybelladonna @nyctamaximoff @kuroko26 @captainmac6 @fsketchart @2sunchild2 @bitterheart12224 @abrx2002

@ginamarie1512 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen

Anyone who asked to be tagged, I really hope I did this right!

#marinette dupain cheng #maribat #maridami #marinette deserves better #Batfam #Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne AU #Gotham #Justice League #Adrien salt #Alya salt #Nino Lahiffe #Daminette

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robotnik-mun · 4 years

Photo

So, what happens when I decide to throw caution to the wind and mash together as many fucking Sonic Continuities as I possibly can? You get a big ass tangle of a family tree that needs to be split up into five separate images, that’s what.

It’s ugly, it’s unpolished, and I made it on a whim. Because the mental image wouldn’t leave me. And because I actually started developing this godforsaken nightmare of a family tree, born of merged continuities, headcanons, and sleep deprivation.

Now keep in mind that this thing is pure crack- it implies a world where Sonic eventually collapses from exhaustion of having to fight TWO Robotniks. It’s a mish mash of what-if’s, continuity mergers and personal ideas glued together. And I wanna stress it has nothing to directly do with my current setting- this is just like, The Path of Insanity.

Anyway, yeah. Against my better judgement I made notes for this insanity. Also, you may notice pictures of characters from other franchises being used as portraits for various characters. Those are basically faceclaims of sorts, meant as abstract representations rather than the literal idea of what they looked like... since, honestly, even I’M not cruel enough to inflict my ‘art’ on you.

Anyway, let’s get the ball rolling-

“Robotnikhotep”

-Robotnik Ancestor in ‘Mobigypt’. Was probably some big important muckity-muck.

“Julius Robotnikus”

-Probably Mobius’ answer to Caligula. His family eventually fell out of power and was forced to re-settle in what would eventually become Overland.

Ivo Kintobor

-Yeah, that whole ‘House of Ivo’ thing? This is the guy responsible. Most likely a douchenozzle, as there is a high concentration of that in the bloodline. Basically a minor warlord who unified a bunch of clans to form his own Kingdom, that was subsequently absorbed into Overland during the unification.

Brutus Kintobor

-Oh wow, a SKINNY Robotnik/Kintobor. This douche canoe attempted to conquer Angel Island for the Overland, but failed miserably. Sent back home in disgrace, a failure.

Gerald Robotnik

- Originally born Gerald Kintobor of the House of Ivo in Overland. He was more interested in science than politics, and after completing college he left that mess behind and immigrated to the United Federation. He changed his name to signify the break from his family history.

-Explored Angel Island in his youth, where he learned about Chaos Emeralds and the like from the various ruins there. He was even friends with then-guardian Janelle-Li.

-Started up Robotnik CORPS. He founded it as a way to disseminate his technology to the people of the UF and earn money to fund more experiments.

-You know the rest. The ARK, Maria, NIDS, Black Doom, Shadow, yadda-yadda-yadda.

Olga Robotnik

-Gerald’s wife. Duh.

-She met him while he lived in a spare room her father was renting out. She’d collect his rent. They grew close and eventually had kids and started a family.

-The shit this poor woman endured is amazing, but she managed to remain unbroken by it, and tried to remain close to her surviving grandchildren.

Grigory Robotnik

- The first son of Gerald. He wasn’t a genius, but he pursued a career in academics and became a doctor of physics. He had two children, Warren and Maria.

-After the ARK incident he became paranoid and accused the government of covering up what really happened. The obsession to uncover the truth destroyed his physical and mental health, and he died a shunned outcast ranting on pirated radio stations about various conspiracies.

-Died in a halfway house, but he managed to get ahold of Gerald’s diary before biting it. While he never got to use it to bring down GUN, it still paved the way for Eggman’s eventual use.

Amelia Robotnik

-Maria’s mother. After the ARK incident and the supposed death of her children, she fell into a deep depression and eventually committed suicide. In case you haven’t noticed, the story of the Robotnik family is depressing as fuck.

Warren Robotnik, ‘Warpnik’

-Maria’s brother. What a tweest!

-He was with her on the ARK, and demonstrated a similar scientific gift to his grandfather. He wasn’t close to Shadow the way Maria was.

-When the ARK was raided, he was captured and subjected to brainwashing treatments by GUN in the hopes of turning him into a loyal, in-house mad scientist. All it did was make him batshit crazy.

-He escaped some time during the Great War, and is now loose in Mobius, a lunatic geneticist fixated on continuing his grandfather’s ‘great work’... or at least his own warped perception of it.

Maria Robotnik

-You know her. You love her. Her life is a tragedy. She’s Maria! Nuff said. Years later, and she still weighs heavily on Shadow.

Ivo Kintobor

-And here is where things get a bit confusing! Ivo was born ‘Ivo Robotnik’, the second son of Gerald. Long story short, he was a douche more interested in politics and profit, and as such did not get along with his father, who bequeathed the family company to his younger brother.

-Despite this, Ivo SOMEHOW managed to reproduce. And when the ARK incident happened, he bought the government line hook line and sinker. He changed the family name back to Kintobor and moved everyone back to Overland to start anew.

-He’s like 50% responsible for Julian winding up the way he did.

-And yes- he DOES want to bulldoze the puppy orphanage to create a combination oil rig/toxic waste dump.

-Was murdered by Julian, who disguised it as an accident.

Lydia Kintobor

-ICE BABY ICE.

-Julian and Colin’s mom.

-She 100% supported her husband’s douchery, and was an active participant in tormenting her secondborn son in the hopes of ‘breaking’ him out of being a genius.

-Killed in the same ‘accident’ that took her husband’s life.

Colin Kintobor Sr.

-Born in the United Federation, but moved to the Overland as a child and grew up there.

-Major league Nationalist and Human Supremacist. Prick.

-Hated Julian basically forever and was encouraged by his parents to do so. He became their ‘golden child’ and was pushed to succeed at everything.

-Pursued a career in politics, law, and the military, and eventually served as a general in the Great War.

-Was eventually murdered by his own brother

Miriam Kintobor

-Colin’s first wife, via arranged marriage.

-She was pretty much his opposite, yet despite that fact the two came to genuinely love one another.

-Died giving birth to their son. Have I mentioned the Kintobor/Robotnik family history is a trainwreck yet?

Angela Kintobor

-The second wife of Colin. She probably met him while serving as a military functionary during the Great War. She is also the mother of Hope Kintobor.

-Other than that, I got nothin’. She likely died when Hope was young, by way of Swatbot invasion. Seriously, do NOT become a Kintobor Love Interest.

Colin “Snively” Kintobor Jr.

-You know him, you hate him! It’s the Snivster, bay-bee!

-His mother died giving birth to him. His dad blamed him for this. You can guess the rest.

-You know most of the story- crappy childhood, admired his uncle Julian, helped him take over the Kingdom of Acorn, spent a decade as his punching bag, etc etc.

-After seemingly offing Julian during Endgame, he briefly took over the Robotnik Empire.... and promptly lost it to Naugus, forcing him to flee for his life. In exchange for information about Robotropolis’ defenses, King Acorn spared his life but sentenced him to be imprisoned forever.

-Was busted out by a returned Julian so that his uncle would be able to properly ‘thank’ him for losing his empire. Helped the FFs to escape Robotnik’s revenge, and after spending time bumming around with them (and hating it) decided to throw in his lot with Crazy Uncle Ivo.

-He’s regretted it ever since... though he sticks with him because its either Ivo or Julian, and Julian will ensure his death is cruel, messy, and lingers for years to come.

Hope Kintobor

-The second child of Colin Kintobor. She was born during the later years of the Great War and spent much of her early life living in siege conditions as Overland tried and failed to stop the advancement of Robotnik.

-Eventually she witnessed the death of her father and remaining family at the hands of Robotnik before being saved by Sonic. She had an extended stay in Knothole afterwards, where she slowly learned that much of her people’s views of Mobians was innacurate.

-She eventually moved to the United Federation as a ward of GUN, serving as the technology expert for Team Dark. She is close to all of them.

-Seeks to redeem the name of her family so that it’s legacy won’t be one of bloodshed, conquest and madness. She’s got a waaaays to go, to put it mildlry.

-Despite everything she still cares about her awful, awful half-brother.

Dr. Julian Robotnik

-Had a REALLY goddamned crappy....well, life, basically. Take my word for it.

-Has basically murdered his entire immediate family by this point.

-Prior to the Great War he aided the Overlander Ministry of Conflict in toppling the legitimate government of the Kingdom of Amunopolis (Aleena’s Kingdom), forcing it’s royal family to flee to the Kingdom of Acorn and re-settle under new identities, with crown princess becoming ‘Bernadette Hedgehog’. That’s right- he’s indirectly responsible for Sonic existing.

-Blah blah blah evil experiments blah blah war crimes blah blah sentenced to be executed by Overlander government during the Great War and blah blah blah coup.

-Took over a large swathe of Mobius and expanded to conquer more, and for a time seemed like he might conquer the entire planet. The Robotnik Empire is.... not a fun place. Then or now.

-Then Sonic and the FF’s happened. Then Endgame happened, and he was... indisposed for a while, leading to his empire being diminished. While he has returned, he has suffered numerous setbacks since then, and the Robotnik Empire is now greatly diminished from its peak.

-That being said, he still rules a pretty big part of the planet, and is still the biggest danger to the world at present.

-Hates his cousin Ivo.

-REALLY goddamn hates That Hedgehog.

Laura Kintobor

-That’s Doctor Laura Kintobor (nee Ellison) to you, buster.

-She and Julian both worked as scientists with Overland’s science ministry, where they met and befriended one another. She eventually managed to coax Julian out of his shell, and their friendship bloomed into a romance, which led to the two marrying.

-She worked in the organic sciences division and was an expert on biology and zoology. In contrast to most scientists, she was very much an outdoorswoman. Even managed to convince Julian to partake.

-Much like her unfortunate sister-in-law, she died in childbirth... giving birth to a stillborn daughter.

-Yeah, this shit is grim.

Theodore Robotnik

-Third son of Gerald. Blatantly named in reference to Theodore Roosevelt, who was used as a visual reference for Eggman.

-Basically a professional beancounter who later inherited Robotnik CORPS. He chose to stick with his original name even after the ARK incident, and struggled to keep Robotnik CORPS afloat in the immediate aftermath of the incident.

-Set up a trust fund for his son Ivo, and tried his best to raise him to be a contributing member of society.

-Sufficed to say, that didn’t work. If he’s still alive, he has a REALLY tense relationship with his son.

-Named his son after his older brother as a passive-aggressive act of spite for abandoning the ‘Robotnik’ name.

Dolores Robotnik

-Mother of Ivo. She was a professor of chemistry who decided to put her career on hold in order to be homemaker.

-Was much closer to her son than Theodore was, and often wound up having to play peacemaker between the two. ESPECIALLY during Ivo’s tumultous teenage years.

-Sufficed to say she is not exactly pleased with how he turned out, assuming she’s still alive even.

Dr. Ivo “Eggman” Robotnik

-HE IS THE EGGMAN. HE’S GOT THE MASTER PLAN! Really, do you NEED to know any more?

-Well, okay, you do. He was born very shortly before the ARK incident and never knew his grandfather.

-His childhood wasn’t horrible, but it was rough in areas due to his high intelligence making things more difficult for him than they should of be. Loads of disagreements with his dad over pursuing science. Spent years plagued by the derogatory name of ‘Eggman’ due to his weight problems.

-You know how you fantasize about ruling the world as a kid? He never really left that stage of things.

-He initially worked as a research scientist in the fields of AI and energy. During the Great War he was approached by GUN to develop weapons for them. His research would go on to form the basis of the robotic soldiers later used by them in the Robotnik war.

-Began his plot to take over Mobius during his time there, and secretly began to appropriate resources and machines to build a hidden base on the distant South Island. Eventually his schemes were discovered by GUN, but he fled.

-While his cousin conquered portions of Mobius elsewhere, Eggman began his long term Death Egg scheme as a means of conquering Mobius in one fell swoop with the aid of the Chaos Emeralds.

-You can guess how it goes from here- he encounters Sonic on South Island and in the Scrap Brain Zone and is defeated, thus setting the tone for MANY other defeats in the future. He eventually took on the name ‘Dr. Eggman’ as a way to differentiate himself from his cousin, and to make the insult that dogged his life into a name to be feared ala ‘Penguin’.

-When his cousin Julian was seemingly killed and the Robotnik Empire in dissarray, Eggman started new bids to take over the world. He established the Metropolis Zone as his ‘capital city’ and founded the Egg Army to help supplement his Badnik Horde. The Eggman Empire now exists as a terrorist army at the beck and call of Dr. Eggman, though he’s still got a ways to go.

-Has four sons by three different women. Slut.

???

-Haven’t got a name for her yet. She was a random girl that a college age Ivo knocked up, which putty much put an end to her collegiate ambitions. She gave birth to two sons, one of whom she bitterly named ‘Ivan’ as a reminder of his origins after failing to get child support out of her babydaddy. She re-married and is currently leading a comfortable enough life. Humors her son because she knows it annoys his biological father.

Ivan Eggman

-The oldest of Eggman’s sons. In his mid 30s or so. Scientifically gifted, as his father was.

-Has numerous, numerous issues pertaining to his stepfather, a hard and strict man with little toleration for nonsense.

-Idolizes his biological father and desperately wants to be acknowledged by him, even changing his original surname to ‘Eggman’. Eggman the 1st was NOT amused.

-Eventually founded a company, Eggman Industries, and grew rich rapidly. Settled by the Bygone Islands where he pursues life as a ‘villain’ now, though really he’s more like a public nuisance than anything.

-Honestly he’s basically living a ‘second childhood’ of sorts using his scientific know-how and riches, and has vowed to one day impress his father and earn his acknowledgement. As you can imagine, it is.... not working out at all, given that he’s even more of a goober than his pop.

-Ironically, he isn’t naturally bald- he SHAVES his head.

Steve

-Yeah, he ain’t a robot here- Steve is the organic, younger (by about a minute) twin brother of Ivan.

-Utterly unconcerned with science or any of that jazz. He’s basically a bohemian beach bum, complete with californian accent- he spends much of his time surfing and earning cash from side jobs.

-Really mellow and easy-going, and doesn’t really dwell on stuff.

-Utter himbo.

Mrs. Robotnik

- Ex-Wife of Ivo Robotnik. Haven’t given it too much thought, but she and Ivo met while working in acadamia, and eventually married.

-Initially the relationship was pretty solid, and they even had a child together. However things swiftly deteriorated between the two as Ivo’s immaturity and increasing anger at the world strained their relationship, along with him being a lousy parent to their son. She eventually divorced his ass.

-After going through a rough patch with her son, she has begun to re-connect with him after his years a delinquent, and now happily supports his endeavors.

Ivo Robotnik Jr.

-Middle son of Dr. Eggman. Had a nonexistant relationship with his father while growing up, which combined with the divorce eventually turned him into a juvenile delinquent.

-He roamed with a biker gang for a while, and prefers to be called ‘Junior’ rather than ‘Ivo’.

-Fell in with Breezie for a while, the both of them unaware of the other’s connection to Eggman. They eventually went their separate ways once Junior began to turn over a new leaf. He still carries a torch for her, though is painfully aware it’d never work out. Their relationship is... complicated, these days.

-Has since become a software security engineer, making a living providing Anti-Eggman/Robotnik software to companies.

Lindsey Thorndyke

-A famed actress. She and Ivo had a drunken tryst at a wrap party where he’d been invited to act as a consultant on scientific accuracy. To avoid scandal she informed her husband, and they passed off the baby as their own.

-What more do you want. Its LINDSEY.

Chris Thorndyke

-The youngest son of Ivo Robotnik. Spent much of his life completely unaware of his true parentage.

-Eh, what can I say, I kind like the theory of him actually being a Robotnik in some capacity or the next.

-When he was a boy, he befriended Sonic and his friends and even hosted them during the days when Eggman’s schemes for global conquest caused him to haunt Station Square for a while.

-Admired his grandfather Chuck and pursued science to be like him, studying physics and engineering.

-Thanks to his mom he’s something of a film buff.

-In college he learned the truth of his heritage. This has put a strain on his relationship with his parents.

Francis Kintobor

-The youngest of Gerald’s sons. Pursued a career as a schoolteacher. While he changed his name in the aftermath of the ARK incident as his older brother Ivo had, he chose to make a small joke at his brother’s expense over the ludicrousness of the name change by naming his own son ‘Ovi Kintobor’.

-Named after Francis Mao, aka That Guy Who Made That One Comic Adaptation From 1991.

Elizabeth Kintobor

-Dr. Ovi Kintobor’s mother. A career veterinarian with a strong love of animals. That’s about it.

Ovi Kintobor

- Grew up on Westside Island, among Mobians. Had a pretty happy and contented childhood, and like many of the other various members of the Kintobor/Robotnik clan developed a pronounced interest and skill in science at a young age.

-Developed a particular interest in researching Chaos Emeralds.

-A Concientious Objector, he served as a medic during the Great War.

-Deeply, deeply shamed by the actions of his more notorious cousins, he has essentially hidden himself from the world to pursue his research and evade their notice, while helping against them in whatever way he can.

-Has secretly transported people threatened by his cousins to safer places, and once caused a mass sabotage of their respective robotic forces through the ‘Nicenik Virus’.

-An ally of the Freedom Fighters.

-Deeply distrusts GUN (which frankly isn’t a bad call).

-Bit of a hippy, but really is a genuinely nice guy who wants to help others through science.

-In some villages he is known as ‘Mr. Tinker’.

#Sonic the Hedgehog #Dr. Robotnik #Dr. Eggman #Colin Kintobor #Chris Thorndyke #Gerald Robotnik #Hope Kintobor #Snively #Warpnik #Maria Robotnik #Robotnik Junior #Boom Eggman #Steve Eggman #Robotnik Jr #Truly this was the best way to spend the finite thing known as my time on earth

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transephiroth · 3 years

Text

an important post: abuse from friends, friend abuse. please read and reblog.

TW: abuse ment, bpd ment, ed ment, suicide ment, ptsd, trauma, death ment. gaslighting ment.

i don’t know what exactly what has compelled me to make this post at nearly 1:00 am on a school night just like every other, but i think the importance of advocacy of preventing, spotting, and stopping abusive friendships is to talk about them with the same respect as any other form of abuse.

i’ll give you a small overview of my personal experience with abusive friendships: when i was 16, my father committed suicide. i was not aware he was my biological father at they time and actually found out he was not my half brother, but my biological father. my father, who’s name i will not mention. i won’t even use fake names they’re hard to keep track of. i found out my mother, an abusive drug addict, slept with her husband, my apparent grandfather’s, adult son from a previous marriage consensually. one way or another, my father was forbidden to be involved in my life, and my grandfather raised me as his own. (in case you’re going to ask about inc*st, my father and mother have no relation, she is not his mother.)

the shock of learning this and grieving his death from the few negative interactions he and his mental health had on my family when i was a baby, was intense. i had no friends at school and felt incredibly lost and vulnerable. when i was in this place i met my best friend. we bonded over a shared hatred of my ex boyfriend, who was an abuser, who was dating her ex best friend.

this should have been a red flag, but i ignored it.

i took the first friend i could find after my ex took away all my friends in an effort to isolate me after my assault. this was probably the worst part of my life, and one of my first real suicide attempts was only days before my father died. the first friend i found, the first soul i recognized i clung to.

when me and my friend, who we will call P, were inseparable. but there was a very clear and distinct difference between us. P was a star in the band at school, she had great grades, tons of friends and was quite conventionally attractive. she was involved in a lot of extracurriculars and overall had a very nice demeanor.

this should have been a red flag. as harsh as it might sound, idealizing anyone is unhealthy. if someone appears to you as perfect, it’s not paranoid of you to wonder if it’s hiding something. it’s hard to tell when someone is being genuine, especially for myself with autism. nice words and a smile can pretty much fool anyone.

i, on the other hand of P, dropped out of band and just about every other activity after my assault, and was in and out of intense therapy and psych visits throughout all of high school. i never could go a school year without a visit. to this day i have gone a whole year however :)

I was an autistic shut in who quite honestly, cried a lot, smelled bad, was clearly poor, spoke funny and came to school drunk. we were not the same.

i don’t want to go over every painstaking detail, so i’ll try to summarize as best i can the first two years of our three year relationship.

P was diagnosed with BPD about a month into our friendship. she told me i was her FP/favorite person, and showed me videos to learn about BPD. i remember watching hours and hours of information about BPD to accommodate her the best i could. what i didn’t realize however, was that she was lying. she didn’t have BPD, or at least couldn’t be diagnosed because we were 16.

red flag. i knew this was a lie because i had been in therapy for years. it took me a long time to peace it together but i accepted it and beget told her, until this moment, that i knew.

i fucking knew.

months of friendship included constant easy to see through lies, fabrications, pathological rants, and pretty much changing her “back story” every day. it was draining not to mention it, but the few times i did, she got physical. i have scars on my right forearm from her nails, which were long and broke skin. she would tell me she would pay me back for things and never show. she would make fun of things i told her in secret to our friends, my trauma. my dad.

“dark humor”

over time, she convinced me to drop every single friend i had except for her. she had gotten me literally completely vulnerable and isolated.

when covid hit, my mom, of course, kicked me out. i moved in with P and her family. my time there over quarantine was very monotonous, but i’ll never forget that for basically 8-9 months, she never let me out of her sight. i felt like i had to just do whatever she wanted because her mother let me live there for free.

p knew i wanted to move away from my mother and the chaos of my home life for years.

right before quarantine, P got her first boyfriend. she had never had a boyfriend and had been to scared to get one. i was really happy for her, i encouraged her to ask him out while she was at a weekend school event.

P then began to manipulate not only me, but him. to this day i don’t know what’s become of either of them, but i really couldn’t care less anymore. when trauma heals, you get a sense of apathy.

P would frequently belittle me, mock me, kick, trip and slap me, force me to pay for things for her and her boyfriend on the spot, and steal from my purse.

eventually living with p, third wheeling with her less than charming boyfriend, who i honestly just didn’t mind. we weren’t friends, but i was respectful to him and treated him the same way i would treat a friend from school or something.

p has a family i won’t bring up because it involves minors, but her mother has a psychotic disorder and refuses to be medicated, so the house is full of ripped door hinges, holes in walls, smashed items and more. it’s really unsafe there, and during my time there i found i really began to internalize as a person. i developed an eating disorder and my ptsd and autism felt much more out of control.

i had been diagnosed with autism for nearly two years at that point, and living in that household made me realize just how damaging meltdown after meltdown without anyone understanding can damage your psyche long term.

i wanted to leave. i had saved my money from my jobs and got an apartment. p insisted on coming, saying she didn’t want to live with her mom anymore. i didn’t want her to come, but i agreed. she got a co-sign. i knew it was a bad idea because i heard what they said about best friends living together. i just can’t believe it really happened.

we talked about growing old together, raising our kids together. i was going to name my first daughter after her. we were going to be neighbors. her husband and my wife would be best friends just like us, but that’s not what happened.

we lived together from August 2020-November 2020

to give a quick summary of the inevitable end of this relationship, P and I had two kittens together. i asked her if she could put them away for inspection so they didn’t run out the door while i drove our third roommate, a whole other mountain of a story, to work.

she didn’t do it, instead slacked off to go to her boyfriends house. so i came back and had to put the cats away at record speed and our other roommate was late to work.

even if this was somewhat small, it was the breaking point for me. i grabbed my phone and texted her, DEMANDING she explain why she couldn’t do this one thing for me. i have never been that angry in my life. we had a phone call where i just lost it and unleashed all my anger and all my hurt about everything she had done. i was sobbing and barely making sense but i couldn’t just keep letting my life carry on this way.

i wish i remembered how the phone call ended, but all i remember was telling her “if the cats run and we can’t find them, then we are done being roommates.”

the next morning i woke up and she had blocked me on everything. i drove to the apartment and saw that overnight, according to block times at like, 3am, she had taken all our shared furniture, all my birthday gifts from not two weeks prior, all the gifts i bought her, most of my clothes, one of the apartment keys, my high school diploma, the paperwork for the cats, and not just our two shared kittens, but my third roommates cat as well.

cue search party with my partner and his friends and my other roommate for P and the cats. i found her at her house with her mom and boyfriend. i walked out and she was on the phone with my grandfather, telling him i was threatening suicide. i ask her where the cats are, she says they are at a friends house.

if we flashback in the story, we literally only had each other, so i knew it was a lie.

i managed to argue through to negotiate at least my other roommates cat, but only after P’s mom blocked us in the driveway and called the police saying we threatened her daughter

(reminder people in this group were black and asian ☺️ so she just calls the cops fall 2020)

luckily the cops saw the proof she blocked me so i couldn’t have threatened her, and let us leave.

that’s the end of the friendship. i could bore anyone who has read this far further by explaining the nightmare realm that is the legal troubles with the apartment, but the internet doesn’t need to know everything does it?

as the winter has gone on i’ve had months to basically remake myself as a person. i had to firstly face the damage P had done.

but before i get into that, anyone who is still reading first, ily, but also, if you’ve had ANY relationship that sounds similar to this, THAT IS ABUSE.

Plain and simple. It is abusive. Physically, emotionally, mentally, verbally. nobody deserves that. not P. not you. not me.

friendships can be all someone has. not everyone is born into good families with loving siblings and great parents and tons of cousins who live .3 milliseconds away. families are divided. families, like mine, are divorced. families are broken and families sometimes aren’t even families. humans need relationships, and an idealistic person who we think maybe could save us and fix the world, won’t.

you can be taken advantage of by the person you trust the most just as easily as a stranger.

it’s not wrong to face the abuse they put you through, know it was wrong, and feel valid that it is was wrong.

what i went through with P was horrible. the detachment of my only friend hurt. but i bounced back. i’m still undoing some of the damage, but i have great friends and a wonderful partner. i have two rescue cats who mean the world to me.

life gets better after abuse, but the bad days and the pain aren’t invalid because of this. i have trauma from what P put me through. abandonment like that is traumatic. but it’s not the end. feel what you need to feel to feel better.

if anyone read this far and wants to vent their own experiences, or share more advice on preventing these relationships feel free. it’s almost 1:30 now, i should go to bed.

it feels good to get that off my chest.

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