#people who get migraines where noise is a trigger or can make things worse

[lilalilan]

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[oneshotnewbie]

Emily PrentissxJennifer JareauxReader:

The reader is working for the BAU and has a really bad migraine (She has chronic migraines but didn't tell anyone). She is really mad and distant toward her friends (you can include the boys too but make me girls main please) and they notice it and have a little intervention with her. After that a lot of fluff where Emily and JJ care for her

Authors note: Unfortunately I don´t have an Emily Prentiss x Daughter reader story, but I have added a new one to write. Until then, there is only one Emily Prentiss x Jennifer Jareau x Reader story from me today

ᕚ---ᕘ

You could say that you were a person with enormous stamina and a high tolerance level. Something that was a must for anyone who worked as a Supervisory Special Agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit and under Aaron Hotch. Many people admired you for not jumping off the next cliff under the unbearable circumstances of this job.

And you yourself sometimes admired your own achievements. But everyone had their limits and it was a recurring thing that happened during your work hours. You ignored the first triggers. You exceeded your physical limits and your migraine appeared.

You could have guessed it when you got back on the plane from Oxford. The terrible serial killer and the panic it caused in the city, the fact that he had abused and murdered seven women. This case had taken more of a toll on you than you would have liked and you tried to deal with your problems in your own way. Which meant you threw yourself into the work, no matter how mundane every clue was and no matter what wall you hit.

“Y/n, maybe you should take a break?” begged Emily, noticing that you were doing everything you could to get Oxford out of your bones as quickly as possible. You, however, waved her off without saying a word and continued to stare at the white board on which every clue was hanging. "Do not need a break, I am fine." The black-haired went along with it, stayed by your side and tolerated your moods even when they drove her crazy.

Non-stop, without a break and with lack of sleep and malnutrition, you battled the nagging headaches and mild nausea. You became more and more tired, yawned and became increasingly sensitive to the loud noises of the office. Something you could tolerate skillfully. But Emily and your colleagues not.

You clearly knew you were on the verge of a migraine when you started seeing visual symptoms of a migraine aura. Your vision became distorted, sometimes weaker, sometimes sharper. For a few minutes you only saw white in your left eye, but you kept going, not giving yourself a break. You knew that no other woman could die because of you.

Hour after hour you were exhausted and just trudged from the office to the coffee machine. With a nasty headache and feeling like you might throw up, you swallowed it all and sat down on a chair while Penelope talked loudly to Derek. You felt like your head was going to explode at any moment from their voices. "Could you PLEASE shut up or at least go to another room to flirt with each other?" you huffed and massaged your temples, their sighs ringing like a hurricane in your ears. "Some people want to work here."

"Babygirl, are you okay?" he asked, surprised at your momentary outburst. He had never been allowed to see you like this, you had never snapped at him. A sharp pain shot through your temples and you hastily stood up. "Hey, cutie pie? What is going on?" the technical analyst also chimed in and waited for any kind of answer.

"I am fine, just leave me alone." your words came out of your mouth hastily and probably slurred, but you did not care. You had to go to the toilet immediately. Without turning around again, you quickly walked out of the office and stumbled in the direction you were heading. Every time you made contact with the ground, the headache got worse and you begged not to throw up on the way. You saw distorted vision in your right eye while small white flashes danced in front of it.

Rushing into the bathroom, you stood in front of the sink, panting and swallowing convulsively. Having migraines was terrible and right now you could not use one. You sighed in relief when you did not throw up, as long as you did not, it was not all that bad.

Loud footsteps sounded outside the door and a knock made your head explode. “Oh, y/n.” A rough voice spoke and you looked in the mirror. Emily and JJ had pushed through the door one after the other and were now standing with their backs to you, their arms crossed over their chests. Furthermore, you paid attention to your reflection in the mirror, which said that any idiot could see that a corpse in pathology looked healthier than you. So did the trained agents on your team. "What is wrong?"

You did not even hear half of the sentence, the second word was the end of it. You ran into one of the stables, fell to your knees and managed to bend over the toilet just in time. You squeezed your eyes shut as tears streamed down your cheeks and you threw up violently. “y/n?” the blondes voice had an worried undertone and you did not notice her standing strictly behind you. The next thing you felt were cool hands on your neck and shoulders.

Jerking away from the touch, leaning your head back against the wall as you pulled your knees into your body. You tried to block so many sounds and other sensations from your body, while only this crushing and throbbing pain existed in your head.

Once again you felt cold hands on your skin and everything in you protested as they helped him to his feet, an arm was placed around your shoulder and led you out of the bathroom and through the hallway. Soon your face made contact with a pillow and a relieved sigh rolled past your lips. You did not know where you were, just that it was quiet. Still, your currently oversensitive ears heard Hotch appearing to be talking to Emily, JJ, and the rest of the group. "No, we have no idea what is going on."

“Did you ask her?”

"We tried, but we got no response." at some point there was an angry snort at the blonde's answer and there were more footsteps in front of the door. The squeaking sound echoed through your head, pounding inside before the space on the couch shrank and a shadow appeared in front of you. "Sweetie, cards on the table. Tell us what is going on?"

The voice of the of the blonde was painful, yet it was strangely comforting to hear a familiar and loving voice. Still, you flinched violently as something cool was brushed onto your forehead. The nausea slowly subsided. "Chronic migraines since adolescence. But not so severe for a while."

Long fingers tugged at the disheveled and stray strands of hair on your face before she stood up again and walked to the windows. The room darkened, blinds closed and you moaned pleasantly. After making a trip to the door, she told the expected teammates what you had told her. You only heard a quiet "I will stay with her, but someone has to get me the medication out of my bag," before the door closed quietly and she sat down on the office chair, looking over you thoughtfully.

JJ waited for Emily to come back with some things and watched you laying there in pain, exhausted and completely distracted by the thunder in your head, trying to be as silent as she could. A few minutes later, the door opened again. You saw Emily through squinted eyes and spotted a bucket in her hand, a bowl of water, wipes under her arms and a large disposable syringe.

"What do you want to inject into me?" you asked surprised and a little frightened by the size of the abnormally large syringe. The blonde knelt down in front of you, pulling up your sweater and waiting for the black-haired one to hand it over. "Metoclopramide,"

"How do you know what to inject into me and where did you get it from?"

"You are not the only one who gets migraines. I used to get them often enough and since then I have always had an injection with me to protect myself from them in case they happen again." she frowned and laughed quietly. You nodded in acceptance and there was a moment of silence before a hot, stabbing pain shot through your lower torso and you cried out. "That hurts!"

Emily sat on the armrest and slipped her fingers between your own. You squeezed it tightly and she hoped to take the temporary pain away from you. "Why did not you tell us?" the black-haired asked sadly you huffed through gritted teeth. "I did not want to be a burden to you. I did not want to seem weak," you replied, shrugging.

"It was stupid of you not to say anything. At least to JJ or me." She paused briefly and you raised your head in confusion before nodding in understanding and looking over at the blonde. With a half-smile, she placed a band-aid on the wound and placed a thin blanket over your legs. "Okay. Next time I will let you know, I promise."

They both nodded and stood up. While JJ was putting away the trash, Emily leaned over and gave you a gentle kiss on the top of your head before she disappeared out of the door. "I will make you some tea,"

"You never make tea."

"I will do it today for a very special and stubborn person." She spoke in a whisper, winking at you. You laughed quietly and already felt a million times better than you did a few minutes ago. With a yawn, you sank deeper into the pillow and watched as the blonde turned on a small lamp at the desk in the dark room so she could continue working. "Thanks,"

[turbulentscrawl]

Identity(V) Headcanons: Luca Balsa

Next up!

Again, I am new to the IDV fandom, and I have never played the game, so these headcanons are informed by my ongoing lore dives sourcing the wiki, japanese twitter responses, comics, stageplay, and more! Some of these may relate to or even contradict character backstory, and some of them are just pure vibes for me. If you like it, consider shooting a request ;)

-So to start, I personally headcanon that Luca initiated the fight that led to the electrical accident. He’s always been hot-headed and impulsive, especially in regard to the source of his pride. I don’t think he intended for the confrontation with Alva to end anywhere near the way it did, but I do think he felt a good shove or two were well-warranted when he found out "his" ideas were being stolen. It’s when Alva fought back a little too viciously that the accident happened—and it well and truly was an accident. Not that it matters much when the only survivor doesn’t remember the event at all.

-He has headaches regularly, and terrible migraines at least once a week. He’s yet to find a way to relieve the migraines and, even worse, they are typically followed by an episode of more intense amnesia. Under normal circumstances, Luca’s memory problems are manageable. He doesn’t remember the accident, and there are massive blackouts in the memories beyond it, but on the average day he only struggles with small details of more recent events. During these post-migraine episodes, though, he completely loses all context for where he is, what he is doing, and who the people around him are. Most of the time, the important bits come back…but not always.

-Forgotten memories are also sometimes sporadically triggered by something mundane. A word, a texture, a sound, and suddenly he’s frozen stock-still in the face of a one-person cinematic viewing. By the time he turns to tell someone about it, though, the memory is gone again.

-To try to combat these issues, Luca keeps notebooks stashed everywhere. He writes down anything that might be important, as well as anything sentimental. The obvious issue with this, however, is that he doesn’t always remember where he keeps these notebooks.

-Despite his memory problems, his personality is largely in-tact. He maintains a lot of gentlemanly mannerisms and is cordial, if not outright friendly, to just about everyone he meets. Generally, he’s only “rude” in the sense that his attention tends to shift very abruptly.

-He’s the sort of person who appreciates variety. In people, food, scenery, just about everything. Part of why he gets along with so many people is because he can genuinely appreciate all manner of skillsets and hobbies. Likewise, to be a friend to him you only need to show appreciation for his work; understanding is not a requirement.

-It’s canon that he dislikes noise, but enjoys music. These might seem like clashing sentiments, but what it really comes down to is expected noise. Music can be relaxing, inspiring, rush-inducing! It holds your mind’s hand and hurries it along its thoughtful way. JUST noise is…chaotic, distracting, and sometimes startling. Plus, Luca likes being able to hum along while he works.

-It’s common to be static-zapped if you touch him. Long-term contact can even cause your hair to start standing on end. Unfortunately, it isn’t something he can control, so just be prepared to deal with it.

-The best Love Language to give Luca is Quality Time. He can honestly work with pretty much all of them, but Quality Time checks multiple boxes—especially if you’re good with parallel play. For one, he gets so busy with his work that it sometimes makes him feel guilty for neglecting the people he cares about. If you’re comfortable just hanging around his space, doing your own thing while he does his, it’s easier for him to check in with you between the erratic come-and-go of his thoughts. Those small bits of time add up, and he feels much better about his workaholic nature. Second, the more you permeate his memory, the less likely he feels he is to forget you. One of the few things he doesn’t struggle to remember is himself, his own name, and if you’re always there maybe it’ll be the same for you.

-He has trouble balancing his priorities. He often foregoes food, sleep, hygiene, and even his loved ones in favor of working on his invention. Sometimes he’s so absorbed in it that he doesn’t even understand the weight of hurtful decisions, but even when he does, he’d find it difficult to change.

-It’s also never impossible for the emotions that caused the accident to rear their head again. If someone were ever to intentionally sabotage Luca’s work or unapologetically steal his ideas, he may very well lash out with violence. Even if it were an accident, there’s no guarantee he wouldn’t be enraged.

-Luca has no idea what he’d do with himself if he ever did finish his invention. The guilt he feels for what may-have-happened is confused and warped, and he keeps it buried beneath his weighty obsession with the one thing he’s never forgotten…but if it were ever to be out of the way, Luca might be consumed by darkness.

[hawkinshighdropout]

All Within My Hands.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (female) Reader

Summary: Y/N gets chronic migraines, they've happened for years and it's only getting worse. Nothing makes Y/N feel any better, so Eddie offers himself up as another form of distraction from the pain... Finger fucking ensues. Spoiler!!

Warnings: There are (2) mentions of sick in this story, it's just Y/N feeling nauseous, nothing is graphic and no one actually throws up, Y/N just feels sick. I know people are sensitive to vomit so if even the thought of it triggers you, please do not read. This has smut towards the end so 18+ only. No minors are permitted to read this. This is kinda fluff/smutty content. Unless you count a couple of curse words as needing a warning? Idk, I haven’t written fanfics in like 8 years so I’m a little rusty…

Note/Request: Requested by @boomhauer. "Alright: reader and Eddie are friends and don’t know they like each other. Until reader gets a migraine and Eddie decides to help her out by getting her off. “I don’t know, I read it somewhere that it cures headaches!”

Bonus: This is my first time writing smut and I'm not very good at it, so sorry if it doesn't live up to expectations. I'm just an awkward person so I can't write very convincing smut, I apologise. Hopefully y'all can enjoy anyways! <3

Word Count: 4.4k

Send me prompts to write about!

“I’m gonna be sick,” you mumble pathetically, sitting in the office of the school nurse. Sunglasses on your face to shield you at least somewhat from the piercing white lights above you.

Another migraine, you were prone to suffering from chronic migraines since you were a lot younger. Usually, they would only last a couple hours, a day at maximum, but recently they were persistent and caused you to deal with them for longer periods of time. Nothing seemed to shift them anymore, not water, rest, the dark, medicine, iron rich foods, nothing. It was getting to the stage where you’d have to walk around in sunglasses and noise cancelling headphones just so you could function through them.

The nurse looked at you with concern on her face, reaching over and grabbing out the trash can to pass to you just in case you were going to puke. Luckily it was just a wave of nausea, and nothing came up, but the nurse was in the process of writing you a note to go home early as it was. She could tell that you didn’t need to be here suffering like this when you couldn’t even sit up right without wanting to hurl.

“Do you have someone who can drive you home, love?” the nurse questioned.

Taking a moment to think before mumbling a weak “Eddie…” to her, she then excused herself from the office to head to the principal’s office to get them to make an announcement to bring him from class to where you were. It didn’t take long for the nurse to come back to you, it make you smile a little at the overhead announcement, knowing that everyone would assume Munson was in trouble rather than what he was needed for.

“Eddie Munson, please report to the Principal’s office immediately.”

The class he was sitting in filled with chuckles or comments about how he was in trouble again, Eddie groaned in annoyance before packing away his things and leaving class to report to the office.

“Son of a bitch” he hissed, walking down the halls in a mild tantrum.

The nurse intercepted Eddie before he made it all the way to the office, smiling and reassuring him that he wasn’t in trouble, this time. She explained that you needed a ride home and his demeanour softened instantly. Looking up from your place on the bench as the door opened, Eddie wandered in, backpack flung over his shoulder before he swipes up your bag from the floor.

“Come on then, let’s get you outta here.” He said, tone soft as the nurse passed you your absence note, along with a note for Eddie to explain why he was leaving school in the middle of the day.

You thank the nurse, quickly going to the front desk to hand in your notes and checkout for the rest of the day. Eddie walked with you to his van, putting both your bags in the trunk before opening the door for you so you can climb in, following suit and starting up the engine.

The short drive back to your place was more uncomfortable than normal. Each speed bump made you want to throw up, and the heat from the car made you sweat under your collar, Eddie had been meaning to fix the AC, he just hadn’t gotten around to it just yet.

“Home sweet home” he smiled, pulling up on your driveway and shutting the engine off. Grabbing your bags and helping you out of the car, you both head inside and he makes a point to shut the door quietly behind you rather than the slamming he usually did.

He followed you straight up to your bedroom, which was dark and cold due to the curtains being closed for a couple days now. Your bag placed alongside his on the study table, you placed your glasses on the nightstand before kicking off your shoes and falling into bed. Groaning in delight as you did, nothing could beat the cold sheets against your body when you felt this shitty.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked.

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks…” Your voice muffled by your pillow as you shake your head, you were all out of options as nothing had been making it better recently. You were almost fed up with trying. “Sledgehammer? I dunno.”

He laughed a little at that, kicking off his shoes and shutting the door behind you both before he sat beside you on the bed. Reaching over and brushing your hair away from your eyes as he looked at you with a concerned expression. He wanted to help but he truly didn’t know what he could suggest that might make you feel better in this situation.

“Have you had meds?” he asked.

“Yup.” You respond, half-heartedly.

“Food? Water?”

You nod again.

“Have you been sleeping well?”

Another nod.

“Are you under any stress?” he queried.

“I wasn’t, but now I feel like I’m being interrogated so maybe a little stress…” Raising your brow at him and peaking one eye open in his direction, trying to make light of the agony you were in, he smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, just trying to help. Uh… Maybe some weed?” he suggests.

You weren’t a smoker; you didn’t drink alcohol or take any drugs. He knew this too, he was just desperate for a solution to your problems as none of the more traditional remedies were helping you, clearly. Shaking your head in response, slumping back down into your pillows whilst he thought.

“Head?” he suggested, voice playful at the mere thought.

“Excuse me?!” you said a lot louder than expected, caught completely off guard at his suggestion, causing you to wince as your head begun to pound in reaction to your previous query.

“I don’t know, man! I’ve heard that it’s good for migraines and stuff because it makes your body relax. Hey, don’t shoot the messenger!” hands up in the air as he got defensive, keeping his voice hushed so he wouldn’t disturb you.

Screwing up your face in disgust, you hadn’t ever even thought about trying that. The last thing you’d want at a time like this is someone between your legs, when you are dizzy and sensitive and wanting to vomit, you can’t imagine even attempting to be sexy or intimate.

“It was just a suggestion.” He laughed to himself, seeing your reaction to his option, you rolled your eyes playfully at his typically perverted ways.

Eddie spent a little longer trying to suggest things that might make you feel better, but all were things you had either already tried, or didn’t want to try. Such as getting in the bath or going for a walk to get fresh air, you didn’t have the energy to even attempt those things.

So, you both settled on just lying in your bed, you on your stomach and faceplanting the pillows, Eddie on his back looking up at the ceiling as you relaxed in peace and quiet.

——

You didn’t know who fell asleep first, or how long you had been asleep, all you knew is that it was kinda late and that you really needed to get up and pee. A groan coming from you as the moment your eyes were open, your head begun to pound again. Sitting up slowly with a wince on your face, you pull your hair away from your face into a low bun and let out an overdramatic sigh.

“Morning, Cranky” Eddie mumbled to you, peaking just one eye open from where he was laying on his back outside of the covers, glancing at his watch before looking back up at you “we napped like… three hours?”

The sun was just beginning to set outside, and you didn’t stop for a second to wonder if your parents had ever come home from work, all you knew was your bladder was screaming for your attention.

“Be right back, gotta pee.” You mumbled, prying yourself out of the comfort of the sheets to head to the bathroom. Doing your business, flushing and washing your hands before coming back into your bedroom to see Eddie now sat up in your bed with a smile on his face.

“Still hurting, hm?” he asks, clearly referring to your migraine, “I’m still suggesting you try the whole ‘head’ thing, it’s the only thing you haven’t tried apart from weed!” he insisted playfully.

You grab the pillow from the end of the bed and throw it his way with a soft giggle, stripping off your sweater as you had gotten far too warm in your sleep. You change out of your jeans in favour of just laying about in your oversized shirt and underwear, far too clammy to change into anything further.

“Stop trying to get into my pants!” you giggle again, shaking your head in playful disapproval before laying back in the sheets.

“I’m not, I’m just saying—” he started, the death glare you gave him soon shut down the idea, watching as he climbed out of the bed and wandered to the door “okay, okay, I’ll be back��” he snorts as he leaves the room.

A few minutes pass and he comes back with a cookie, Tylenol, and a fresh bottle of water. Passing all of those items to you as it had been a while since your last dose, but he didn’t want you taking anything on an empty stomach in case it made things worse. You quietly ate the cookie, took the meds and sipped at the water until it was almost completely empty, clearly far thirstier than you thought.

“Thank you” you said gratefully, Eddie just smiled across at you as if to say that it wasn’t a big deal.

“A hot bath might help?” he suggests, you shrug your shoulders at the thought as you didn’t want to go through the effort of running one. It was as if he could read your mind, he stood up and went into your bathroom and started the process of running you a hot bubble bath before you could even object.

You only moved once he called out that it was ready, scooting yourself off the end of the bed as you followed the voice. The bath was full and smelled of lavender with bubbles threatening to overflow the tub, a few candle on the sink to light the room so you weren’t subjected to the harsh light of the bathroom ceiling.

“Thank you” you smile, looking around at the effort that he had gone to to ensure that you would be okay, he excuses himself and allows you the privacy to undress and to bathe in peace.

Eddie would stay seated on your bed which was just out of visual distance from where you occupied the bath, the pair of you talking through the open doorway as you washed yourself. You feel your cheeks flush pink and your eyes go a little wide once you are ready to get out of the bath as you realise you didn’t have a towel.

“Uh… Ed? Can I have a towel please?” you call out, hearing the squeak of the bed as he comes to the rescue with a clean towel from the linen closet, stepping into the bathroom to hand it to you.

“Thank you” you offer whilst taking the towel in your hand, bath already in the process of draining when you raise yourself out of the tub, wrapping the warm towel around your middle.

Eddie clears his throat and quickly turns away from you to hide his red cheeks, having accidentally caught a glimpse of your wet and naked torso as you were climbing out to reach the towel he offered you. Watching him wander back to the bed to take the attention away from the situation as you closed the door and dried yourself off, eventually tugging on clean underwear and an oversized t shirt to sleep in later.

“Want me to throw on a movie?” he asked, to which you called out a soft “yeah!” and watched as he slipped out of your bed towards your tv. He took a couple of minutes deciding before laying on his back with his arm around your shoulders once you had joined him back in your bed, curling up into him for comfort and warmth.

The movie was just over halfway finished when you let out another grumpy sigh, irritated with the fact this pounding pain in your head hadn’t decided to shift. You were sick and tired of being so uncomfortable and in pain that you looked up at Eddie with the softest pout on your lips.

“Still hurting, huh?” he asks, nodding your head in response, “anything I can do?” his voice gentle, clearly he is desperate to try and fix this for you. You shake your head this time. “Want me to get outta here so you can see if rubbing one out helps?” he chuckles, making you blush.

“Shut up, idiot.” You giggle, smacking him lightly on the chest before wrapping your arm tighter around him to make it clear that you didn’t want him to leave you.

Not more than another ten to fifteen minutes pass before you are groaning in discomfort again. Hiding your face against his chest to shield yourself from any sound or light coming from the screen. Eddie pauses the movie, shuts off the screen so the room is dark and silent, turning his full attention back to you.

“Y/N… This isn’t good…” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he strokes your back and does his best to comfort you. You sigh, you knew this wasn’t good, this wasn’t exactly a blast for you to have to deal with for this long. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

You shrug your shoulders. It had gotten to the point where you were so uncomfortable and in pain that you were willing to try anything. Well, almost anything.

“Maybe I should just do thing you keep suggesting, anything is worth a damn try at this point!” Glancing up at him with an annoyed look on your face, not at him, at the situation you are in, you let out a disgruntled little noise.

“Want me to head home?” He offers, not wanting to be the person in the way or stopping you from getting any intimate time alone to attempt to cure your pain.

“No! No.. I don’t wanna be alone when I feel this shitty.” You pout, a quizzicle look on his face as he’s watching you.

“I can’t exactly just sit here though, can I? I can’t just sit and watch you doing your thing, that’s weird, isn’t it?” His tone doesn’t sound so sure of himself.

You were friends, best friends, you told each other everything and knew everything about the other. This was crossing the line… Right? Having him sitting right beside you whilst you’re doing that to yourself? That’s gotta be weird and a boundary you’re crossing even by asking… Right?

“I mean, I don’t know…” both of you had matching nervous energies and flustered pink cheeks as you avoided eye contact, the pair of you staring at your own hands whilst you fumbled through the conversation.

“Unless I just do it for you?” He offers, words tumbling out of his mouth before he’s even gotten a chance to think them through, both of you suddenly wide eyed and looking at each other.

“What?!” you softly squeak.

“I. Uh. Nothing, nothing.” He tried to backtrack, scratching the back of his neck with an awkward little laugh. You both sit in silence for a couple moments before you turn to him a little.

“You really wanna do that? For me?” Looking him up and down to see if he’s was just messing about or truly interested in helping you out in probably the most intimate way imaginable.

“I mean, why not? What could go wrong? You’re in pain, it might help you, it’s not a big deal… I don’t know” he mumbled, shrugging his shoulders and looking back down at his lap.

“Won’t that totally ruin the friendship and make things awkward if you’ve seen me in that way?” You ask shyly.

“Not if we don’t let it? Consider it a favour? You need help, I’m helping you. Next time I need like… help passing a class, you can slide me the answer sheet and call it even?” He lets out an awkward and not fully committed laugh.

You take a few seconds to think about it before the pounding in your head comes back, causing you to nod quickly in agreement.

“Okay… Deal.”

——

Looking up from your spot on the bed as your bedroom door shuts, a shy smile on Eddie’s face as he’s coming back into the room after having peeked downstairs to see if your parents were home or not… they weren’t.

You were alone, home alone with Eddie.

You were laying in the centre of your bed on your back, head in the pillows as you’re looking up at your best friend who came walking towards you, he sits beside you on the bed with his hand pressing to your thigh. Giving you a comforting squeeze as he looks down at you.

“Coast is clear” he announces softly, the both of you smiling like goofballs at one another.

He shuffles a little higher up the bed so he’s on his knees beside you, his hand moving up to cup your cheek instead. His thumb brushing back and forth along your cheekbone to soothe your nerves as you’re giggling at each other, trying to see who will step up and initiate anything.

You’d never thought about Eddie sexually before, he was your buddy. Your best friend. It was always affectionate but platonic, but something about the way he’s looking at you right now? You couldn’t deny the butterflies in your stomach. Maybe it was nerves? But there was a hint of excitement too.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers, you immediately nod your head and close your eyes as he comes closer to you.

Eddie leaned down, tilting his head to the side and connecting your lips in a few tender kisses, you giggle into each others mouths as the nervous energy takes over. It was sweet that he didn’t want to rush you, he didn’t just get the job done and leave, he wanted to ease you into it and make sure you’re comfortable.

One of your hands cupped the back of his head and tangled in his long locks, holding him closer as you kiss one another. Massaging your fingertips against his scalp as his hand would slip up and down your bare thigh, causing you to shiver a little in response. He shuffled around slightly so that he’s laying on his side beside you, hand sneaking up under the hem of your shirt to lift the fabric up a little. His fingertips now trailing back and forth along the waistband of your underwear, waiting for your permission to go any further.

Nodding your head a little in the kiss, he’s shyly sliding his hand into the waistband of your underwear, his warm hand cupping your mound whilst his fingers would delicately swipe up and down your folds whilst you kissed one another. A little hitch of your breath makes him smile, playfully tugging at your lower lip with his teeth before kissing the skin, his fingertips moving in slow circles around your clit to start you off.

It didn’t take long for you to start to let out little noises at his touches, grinding lightly against his hand as he would alternate between massaging your clit or teasing his fingers up and down your slit. His fingers taking little time at all to become soaked by you, him kissing along your jawline whilst working towards your ear.

“May I?” He whispers, you nod in response.

He’s careful with you, delicately sliding his middle finger inside of you whilst replacing the pressure on your clit to include his thumb. He massages your bundle of nerves whilst working the finger in and out of you, curling his finger up to brush against your weak spot.

You’re groaning and dropping your head back in the pillows, legs spread open for him whilst he’s moving his finger in and out of you in a slow and steady pattern. Your underwear still on, meaning he can’t pull too far away before he’s hitting the fabric, you were grateful for the barrier keeping him close.

Easing a second finger into you, he’s slipping them in and out at a constant pace whilst his thumb would alternate between circling and rubbing your clit. His name falling from your mouth over and over, causing him to grin proudly down at you at the sound. Eddie was solid in his pants, but this wasn’t about him, this was about you. He didn’t even hint or reference himself, focusing on helping you out instead.

“M-More, please…” you whimpered, loving the stretch that his fingers cussed inside of you, your body twitching as your breathing quickened from his touch.

He smiled fondly down at you, inching his ring finger alongside his index and middle to stretch you out, the three long digits make you pulse around his fingers whilst you’re hiding in his neck and whimpering. He dropped your clit in favour of softly pumping his fingers in and out of you, a slightly quicker pace than before as he could feel you clenching around him.

One of your own hands slide between your legs so you could rub your clit whilst he took control of your needy entrance, the pair of you working together to bring you the pleasure you had craved for a while. Your lips soon connecting to muffle your noises as you felt yourself getting closer, body shaking and breathing heavily as you cursed and moaned into Eddie’s mouth. You were trying to fight it and hold back on your climax as you wanted to enjoy this for longer, but the rhythmic strums of his fingers inside of you pushed you closer to the edge.

“Cum for me?” Eddie mumbled into the kiss with a fond smile on his face, pulling back to look down at you whilst he angled his fingers a little deeper.

“Oh, shit!” You curse softly, rubbing your clit feverishly whilst he admired the way you fell apart under him. Your muscles tense up before you drop your head back and curse a little louder for him. Suddenly your walls spasm around his fingers and you’re gushing out around his digits, trembling under him as you’re gasping for air.

He lets out a soft noise of approval at the sight of you, finger fucking you through your climax until you’re whimpering from how sensitive you are. Your hands dropping back to your sides before Eddie slows his hand to a stop, slipping his fingers from you in favour of bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean.

“Yeah, that was hot. Any better?” He asks, a cocky smile on his face as you look the most relaxed you’ve been in days. Nodding your head tiredly as you look up at him with flushed cheeks and a giggle.

“Mhm, a little… Thank you.” You mumble.

Eddie laughs, half out of arrogance for being right. Half because you look so cute when you’re all spaced out and comfortable. He’s just glad he could have helped you. Leaning down, he presses a few kisses to your forehead before he excuses himself to the bathroom.

Looking up at him as he comes back into the room, a confused look on your face as he’s bringing a towel. You lift your hips when he’s hooking his fingers into your underwear, watching as he slips them down your thighs and throws them to the floor. Spreading your legs, he’s delicately wiping your wetness with the towel to clean you up.

A smile on his face as you’re making soft noises or twitching away from him, kissing both of your knees once you were all dry and ready for bed. Taking your underwear and the towel and throwing them in the laundry, before he comes back to the room and sits beside you on your bed once more.

“Did this ruin our friendship?” You ask, a small and nervous look on your face, laying on your side so you’re both face to face.

“Not at all.” He shakes his head, cupping your face in his hand and stroking his thumb along your skin whilst pressing a kiss to your nose, “if anything, it brought us closer.”

You smiled bashfully across at him, giving him a gentle kiss whilst wrapping your arms around his midsection so you’re cuddling as close as possible with him.

“Do you… Do you need anything?” You look down at his crotch and then back up at him, gesturing to the fact that you could feel he was hard against your thigh.

He’s shaking his head immediately, chuckling as he kisses your forehead once more, reassuring you that he was going to be alright.

“I’m good. This was about you, I’m just glad I was right and you’re all good now. We can worry about me another time.” Eddie says fondly, bumping your noses together before he pecks your lips.

“Are you sure?” Voice unsure of yourself, not wanting him to feel like this was one sided and like he wasn’t allowed to voice his feelings just because you didn’t feel good.

“I promise, sweetheart.” He confirms.

“Okay.. Thank you.” You giggle, realising the reality of what had just happened. Your best friend on the planet had just finger fucked you into an orgasm to soothe your headache. The both of you quietly laughing into the arms of one another as this can’t be your reality.

“Munson 1. Migraine 0.” He says proudly.

You just kiss him to stop the bragging rights he’s already trying to cash in on, giggling into his mouth before pulling away to grin up at him. Eddie pulls the blankets over the both of you and slumps against your chest, his arms around you as he yawns like a big cat.

“So, about those math answers…” he says innocently, already trying to cash in his end of the deal of you helping him pass a class.

“Consider them yours.” You mumble tiredly.

[himbo-beel]

hmm could you do a headcanon (or whatever fits) where the mc manages to blow a hole through the house of lamentation (the cause could be literally anything) and the bros react? (if you do the side characters can you add them too? sorry if this is too much 👉👈🥺

It’s not too much! In fact, thank you sending this! I’ve never done headcannon requests before so I’m sorry if it’s a little short. 

--

THE BROTHERS REACT TO AN MC WHO BLOWS A HOLE THROUGH THE HOUSE OF LAMENTATION

Lucifer: 

Hear’s a bang and he’s already expecting to hang Mammon from the ceiling

Has everything ready, already has his name on the tip of his tongue as he comes marching down the hall

404 error Lucifer does not compute as he sees MC of all people standing in front of a giant hole in the wall

He’s standing there so very still, not even blinking, waiting for the migraine to start

He has so much work to do and now he has to fix a wall too??? He thought they were better than this 

“My study, 5 minutes, do not be late.”

Storms off because now he has to think of a punishment for MC. He’s used to punishing his brothers but MC? Pride and joy of Diavolo’s exchange program MC?? He’s never thought they’d cause a problem like this before. Congrats, you’ve managed to somehow impress the Avatar of Pride, but not in a good way.

You have to walk Cerberus now. Daily. Good luck. 

Mammon:

“Mammon made me do it”

“MC!”

It’s true though, Mammon made MC do it. But MC were the one that introduced Mammon to house flipping when he mentioned wanting to start another gig

He didn’t think MC would go along with it though!!!

Mammon is still impressed that you managed to knock almost all of the wall down in one go. 

So now there’s a hole outside of the common room but at least the view of the Devildom is nice

The breeze is...lovely...okay Lucifer isn’t having it. 

Mammon does end up taking the fall though because what else is he going to do when MC makes those big eyes at him? He has to protect them dammit and it’s not like this is the first, or last, time he’s going to be blamed for something

MC better make it up to him. Work an extra shift at Hell’s Kitchen and give him some cash and he’s quick to forgive them. Even quicker to come up with another remodeling scheme

Leviathan:

He wouldn’t open up his door and, frankly, the passwords to get him to were getting a little too long and a little too tiring. 

Bing bam boom and a little magic and WOOSH there goes the door whoops

Levi barely hears it over the game blasting in his headphones. Turns to find the source of the noise and this boy is losing it

He’s torn between being angry that MC’s blasted their way in and being downright panicked now that his safe space is open to the world. 

The game is forgotten, he’s in his demon form and curled up in the tub yelling about the light leeching in

MC hangs up a curtain while the door is getting fixed

The passwords remain very long and very tiring but they’re easier than spending a few days calming Levi down

Asmodeus:

Asmo said the water temperatures for demons were much higher than a human could tolerate and they wanted to see how high that could go

It was for, uh, science. And, for science, they turned the hot water knob as far as it would go. Too far.

The pipe burst and blew a hole through the bathroom. 

Normally Asmo would be very pleased to see a half naked MC but all this hot water and plaster just exploded all over and his hair is RUINED

At least they had some experience with calming Levi down - a panicked Asmo is difficult to cool down when there’s a million things that he needs to have perfected 

By the time the room is fixed MC’s become an expert at following Asmo’s skin and hair care routine because everything got moved to their room and he expects them to help him with it all. 

He might ‘forget’ one or two of MC’s favorite smelling lotions in their room when he finally brings it back

Satan:

He’s helping MC with their spellcasting homework

It’s protective spellcasting and it goes just about as well as every other spell MC has tried - as in, it goes horribly horribly wrong

Half the wall and all of the books stacking in front of it are now in bits and pieces. As is Satan’s sanity

Honestly, he should have seen this coming

Before MC can try to blast Satan away before his claws get to you Satan is smashing another hole in the wall in his anger at his books being destroyed. 

The first hole doesn’t seem like such a problem anymore. 

Better call someone to come calm him down before a third wall comes down. Or worse. 

Beelzebub:

It’s the middle of the night and MC knows Beel is coming down soon for his late night fridge binge

Lucifer has everyone on rotation for making sure he doesn’t clear out the kitchen and tonight’s their shift but MC has a plan: make something good enough for Beel to leave the fridge alone!

Through magic

They ready their spell over your cake and instead of getting one giant cake they made - get ready for it - a hole in the floor. 

“Solomon said this spell was supposed to make any cooking taste better”

Beel is so confused. Why are they asking Solomon of all people for help with cooking? Why is the floor missing?

He can’t make it to the fridge, though, so MC did...their...job?

But MC can’t make it back to the rest of the house now.

Someone will have to come get them in the morning

Belphegor:

Belphie was skipping classes and was so ready for the extra nap time

Didn’t think anyone else was home and snuggled down in all his blankets and pillows. Thought he was dreaming when the walls starting shaking 

It was suddenly....very cold

But he doesn’t investigate, he’s too comfy. Just wraps himself up tighter and goes to sleep

Wakes up hours later to yelling

MC busted a hole in the attic! Turns out some of the spell put on the stairs still lingered and was accidentally triggered when MC tried to climb up them. With all the pacts the magic went overboard and now some stairs are missing including a good part of the wall

Belphie couldn’t care less he’s comfy right where he is. As long as everyone shuts up soon, he doesn’t care what kind of punishment you get. 

Undatables:

Diavolo and Barbatos are both marveling at the amount of damage you managed to cause to the House of Lamentation. One human! So many holes! How very impressive! What else have you been hiding MC? Barbatos smiles at you oddly. He knows what MC is hiding.

Simeon prays for the brothers’ patience with you. He knows how hypocritical these demons can be. Offers to talk to Lucifer about lessening your punishment

Solomon helps you spackle the walls back together. Some of this is his fault after all. He suggests using magic to fix it faster. There are seven ‘NO’S’ shouted at him. 

Special Mention:

Luke bakes cakes for you when you get tired of all the hard work of repairing your messes. He thinks its about time some certain demons get a taste of their own medicine. 

[teachingtales]

Migraines

I am writing this for those of you who:

don’t have migraines, but know someone who does and want to know more

don’t have migraines, but may develop them later

do have migraines and don’t really know how to tell other people about them, so you can find some phrases that may help here (or just link them)

My mother had migraines, and I never did. I remember asking her what it was like, and was told, “It’s like a really bad headache.” In no way did that prepare me for migraines. I started getting them after getting disabled in the Marines with neurological issues. I honestly thought I was having a brain aneurysm or something. Was I dying? Is there a parasite boring through my brain and trying to find its way outside of my skull? 

It turned out to be a migraine. 

Later on, I lost strength in my left side. I was confused, dizzy. Is this a stroke? I went to the veterans hospital. Nope, it’s “just” another form of migraine. Uh...cool?

What is a migraine?

Unlike regular headaches that have many causes, migraines are a neurological disorder. You may have another neurological disorder that also produces migraines, or your neurological disorder may produce migraines as the primary problem. Migraines affect about 10% of the population, making them the most common neurological disorder. 

How can I tell if I get migraines?

Being the giant nerd I am, I looked up the etymology of the word and it comes from Greek. The original word is “hemikrania”, with “hemi” as “half” and “kranion” is “skull”, and you can see that over time the “he” part was dropped off. 

While there are lots of different symptoms of a migraine, this is actually one of the most defining symptoms...that’s probably why they chose this name. The head pain will happen only in half of your skull, either the left side or right side. A single migraine event can switch sides, but they won’t hurt at the same time. I usually get migraines on my left side, but occasionally they happen on the right instead. I’d say it’s about 95-5 for the split. 

A friend asked me if having them on the right side was any better or worse, and it’s a great question. The answer is: they still suck the same way, just on the other side. Although I will say that they’re almost worse in a way, because I have my habits to compensate for my left-side migraines and have to alter all of those habits. It’s not terribly annoying, objectively-speaking, but when you’re in the middle of a migraine it is annoying.

If you experience severe pain on half of your head, see a doctor. You probably are having a migraine.

What is it like to have a migraine? What are the symptoms?

This is what I wish I knew going into them. The pain severity can be “oh this really sucks” to “aslasfoiafjagjglkagnlgfjajwoi”, and I use that keyboard smash because when the pain is severe you can barely talk. Think of getting a brain freeze. You know how you stop doing everything to address the pain in your head that’s suddenly there? Imagine that level of pain for several hours. This is what it’s like to have a severe pain migraine. You can’t think of anything else, you can’t even sleep. 

While “really frickin’ bad head pain” is what most people know about for a migraine, there really are tons of other symptoms. As a neurological condition, it can cause syptoms like:

nausea and vomiting

diarrhea 

diarrhea and vomiting together

sudden dizziness (for anyone that’s been blackout drunk, it’s like that period right before you black out, where you’re really dizzy), and you end up walking in a swaying motion, sometimes falling down or falling into walls...it really looks like you’re drunk

loss of coordination, so it’s hard to do things like open a small package or tie your shoes

loss of strength in arm, hand, leg, and/or foot, making it difficult to walk

change in perception of temperature, including wild swings between shivering shaking cold and sweating hot

sensitivity to everything: lights, smells, sounds, tastes, touches...all of these increase the symptoms you’re already feeling

confusion or “brain fog”, which lead to things like you losing your train of thought mid-sentence, forgetting what you’re doing while you’re doing it, inability to focus, difficulty talking

slurred speech (sounds like you’re quite drunk)

suddenly feeling incredibly tired

slipping into sleep  without warning when seated or lying down (not great during commutes on the bus or subway)

changes in vision, such as blurred vision, changes in color perception, seeing “auras” around things, missing one eye’s vision, or having chunks of your vision missing

Sometimes you know when you’re about to get a migraine. This is called “prodrome”, but since most people don’t know this term I just call it a “starter migraine” or “I’m on the edge of a migraine.” If you can catch yourself in this period, you may be able to prevent the migraine with medication. The prodrome period depends on the person and takes a while to get used to, and you won’t always get them. Sometimes you just HEY MIGRAINE, sometimes you wake up and already have a migraine. You’re not guaranteed any prior warning. 

The opposite is the “postdrome”, which I just call the “after-effects of the migraine” because most people don’t know what “postdrome” is. As you can see from the symptoms, it’s quite intense. As a result, you’re left exhausted, drained, sometimes sore, and often feeling a bit vulnerable, like anything you do will cause you pain or bring the return of the migraine. Even though the migraine is over, you still can’t get back to your normal activities. It depends on the person, but it can be quite common to experience the postdrome. As with the prodrome, you may not have this. 

What triggers a migraine?

What is so frustrating about migraines is that there are so, so many triggers, and they’re often inconsistent. Sometimes, they’re even opposing. 

caffeine can help during a migraine, but too much caffeine without having a migraine can trigger a migraine; and sometimes caffeing during a migraine makes it worse

chocolate can trigger a migraine but I personally have not experienced this

strong cheeses can trigger a migraine, but as with chocolate I never experienced this

 low blood sugar due to skipped meals can trigger a migraine 

too much sugar can trigger a migraine

changes in air pressure 

changes in humidity

dehydration

too much exercise 

not enough exercise

moving around too much

too much lying down or sitting

stress is a common trigger

cold, such as cold weather or cold items touching the skin

running/jogging

bright lights, especially flashing lights

loud sounds of any type (human, booming sounds, construction)

vomiting also can trigger migraines, such as if you’re sick with something else or if you have bulimia

being sick with another illness can stress out the body to trigger a migraine

I’ve had relatives ask if I can “just move to another place” to avoid things like storms, and that’s not an option. While stormy, rainy weather is a common trigger, so is bright sunshine (especially if dehydrated)...which rules out most of the world during summertime. 

I was enjoying Avengers: Endgame until I realized that the sounds and light were hurting, and I was shoved into one of the worst migraines I’ve had. I had no prior warning, I otherwise had felt fine that day, but after a couple hours of loud booming noises coupled with bright flashes, it triggered a migraine. 

As you can see, this is really a difficult thing to manage. Some people get rare or occasional migraines, but people like me have chronic migraines. “Chronic migraines” are classified as “having at least 15 per month”, but in my case I will get them daily if I don’t take my medication and do my best to avoid all these triggers. Just this morning, I woke up around 06:30 and a couple hours later a migraine came because of the weather so I went to take a nap, but that made the migraine worse because I was lying down too much. I woke up in more pain and had to go for a walk (after taking my noon medication) for it to try to subside. 

What are the treatments for migraines?

No matter which route you take, you will always have to do your lifestyle changes. This means making sure you have plenty of water, don’t skip meals, manage stress, etc. 

You can take medication. I have medication I take a few times a day, and another one I take for when I feel a migraine breaking through. If that also fails, I take an injection at home. 

You can take supplements. There are things like butterbur, magnesium, catnip, ginger, and other things. Look online and include the words “migraine study” with the supplement name. This way you can see how effective it was, and the dosage. Check the company as well to see if they’re reputable. In places like the USA, supplements are not regulated so companies may put other ingredients instead. You can also make extracts or teas with things like catnip and ginger. Send a PM if you want to know how to do that. It’s easy. 

You can get Botox. I haven’t tried this but some people swear by it. The price was out of my range and I was told that it would impede my range of motion; since I lift weights, I didn’t want to deal with that. My regular doctor told me that my migraines are managed “well enough” with medication and I can’t expect any better with Botox; in other words, it’d be a waste of my money. But if you are having problems managing yours with medication, then see if Botox works for you. 

Other treatments for migraines include:

resting in a dark room

sunglasses or yellow-lens glasses

ice pack on the pain area (or a cold pillow)

stretching (but this can increase pain in some cases)

going to sleep

drinking water

drinking caffeine (coffee, energy drink, green tea, any source is fine)

eating a small meal if you haven’t eaten yet; preferably something with sugar, like fruit or fruit juice

binaural beats (this is my sound-video of choice, but be careful because there’s a loud “BING” type of sound at the beginning)

no screen time 

removing strong smells (such as cleaning the cat’s litter box if it has feces or urine)

not eating anything with a strong flavor, and avoid spicy food

don’t wear a bra

don’t wear anything tight/snug around your waist or upper body, to include: tight waistbands, pantyhose, snug belts, corsets. If you need a belt, wear it looser than normal

If I’m at work and having a vomiting + head pain type of migraine, I will make myself a mix of electrolyte drink (like Powerade) + an energy drink and sip it. This helps get some caffeine and helps wake me up a bit, plus it helps re-hydrate me. 

Not a treatment, but apparently if you get migraines as a child or teen, finishing puberty can somehow result in your migraines stopping, so that’s cool, but it doesn’t always happen because migraines are apparently a gift from some kind of trickster deity.

Are migraines dangerous?

Chronic migraines can unfortunately increase your risk of stroke in your forties. 

Chronic vomiting, if you get this as a common symptom, can have a negative impact on your teeth and muscles...including your heart. If you get chronic vomiting, ask your doctor about any supplements (like potassium or magnesium) that they can prescribe to help mitigate the muscle issues. Wash your mouth out with water after vomiting (this is what my dentist recommended...I asked about baking soda, but they said to just do water. Do not brush your teeth because it can do more damage, but if the post-vomit taste in your mouth is going to trigger more vomiting, gargle with mouthwash or drink some juice).

I don’t get migraines but know someone who does. How can I help?

You are a beautiful person for wanting to help. How you help depends on where you are...you can’t lie down and take a nap when you’re at the grocery store, for example. Ask the person what they need, and remind them that it’s okay to sit down or stay home. We’ll often feel guilty about having to cancel plans, so let them know it’s okay. 

If it’s around a meal time, bring them something kind of bland that they can pick at. This can include hard boiled eggs (peeled and cut into quarters or halves), sliced bananas, peeled/shelled nuts, rice balls, cooked potato pieces (chips, crisps, french fries, roasted potato cubes), small pieces of cooked chicken breast, bread that has been cut into cubes, cubed or sliced apple or pear. 

Be prepared to make an ice pack, which needs to be wrapped in a small towel. Some people have never used an ice pack before and you cannot put it on your skin directly. It needs to be wrapped in a small towel or shirt. If you don’t have an ice pack, frozen vegetables/fruit in an unopened package works. If not, put ice cubes into a zipper baggie and then wrap that in a cloth. If you have a loved one who gets migraines and visits often, buy a small ice pack to keep at your home. This is a pouch with a gel in it, and it is quite inexpensive. You can find them at pharmacies or large stores with a pharmacy section. 

In closing, migraines suck and I’m sorry if you get them. Please have some memes I made.

I thought I had more but I guess not or I forgot where I put them. Feel free to share or ask questions.

[wallwriterstuff]

Am I allowed to place in a request for Mr svelte tracker boi Demetri? I need my greek boi fix. 😅😂 My stimming (due to my slight autism and anxiety) has been kinda bad lately and I was wondering if you could do some headcanons on how he would be with a reader who has that going on? (For example, some of my stimming signs are restless, uncontrollable finger twitches sometimes, and sudden limb movements and facial twitches I can't control 😅) Thanks! Also, sorry if this is too touchy a subject!🙈

You most certainly are allowed and I cannot express how hard I fangirled when I realised it was you in my ask box. I played it very cool but just know I was dying inside from the moment I saw your username come up XD 

TW: Mentions of anxiety and sensory overload. If that’s a little personal to you please be cautious about reading this one!

I’m incapable of writing short things it seems so it’s another long one.

Self-stimulating behaviour, known more commonly as stimming, usually involves repetitive movements and/or sounds. Though it is most often associated with autism (I know when I first saw the word stimming that was where my mind immediately went to) everybody stims in some way, shape or form to relieve stress, tension, anxiety, boredom etc. Some ways are less noticeable than others such as nail biting or finger tapping, while others can be more obvious and disruptive to your social/daily life like licking certain objects or scratching at skin.

I learned all this from doing a bit of reading before taking on this request and if you want to know more then the link to the article I read is right -----> HERE <------ ! It’s informed my ideas for this headcanon request and though I’m open to discussions about the topic to help educate myself and anyone else who wishes to learn more, what I will not tolerate is any sort of hate or discrimination based on the links to developmental disorders and mental illness that stimming has. This blog has and always will be a safe space for anyone and everyone and a little respect for one another will help keep it that way. Be kind folks!

So without further ado, how would Demetri react to you stimming I wonder?

Part 1: Headcanons below the Keep Reading Line Part 2: Teeth (fic) Part 3: Control (fic) 

·         He honestly wouldn’t really notice for a while because, well, humans aren’t exactly designed to be as flawless as vampires

·         Impromptu nosebleeds, migraines, sneezes…they’re just glitches in a faulty system so why is the way your leg just bounced up off of the floor while your sitting any different to those other equally as involuntary things

·         He’s struggling right now to, after all he just met his very human mate and it’s quite overwhelming for him to have to adapt to all these new feelings and situations he finds himself in, but he deals because he can

·         Some days, you just…can’t

·         Getting attacked by a man with some bizarre fascination with your neck is bad enough but being whisked away by strangers is somehow even worse. At least in the first scenario once it’s over it’s over, now you’re just living an anxious person’s nightmare in a new place full of new people

·         Volterra was beautiful, but it wasn’t home. No cosy apartment, no neighbours cat to feed, no monotonous shifts at work…

·         Actually, most of the time you’re left utterly alone to navigate an unfamiliar castle, and the times you aren’t alone is when there’s a man claiming to be your eternal lover in front of you

·         Try to convince me this man doesn’t rip the band aid off and profess his love for you with dramatic flair just TRY

·         Your days are filled with endless boredom where you’re doing nothing at all until someone checks on you, and then fight or flight kicks in because oh HELLO Mr Vampire guard are you here to give me lunch or kill me?

 ·         Demetri had thought that perhaps you were okay with that, since you hadn’t really outwardly reacted beyond the way your cheek twitched up into a smirk once or twice as he spoke. Hell, you’d even winked at him…right?

·         You did that a lot so he really genuinely thought that maybe you were just trying to flirt with him, build a relationship with him. Your constant little winks and the way your fingers twitched when he was nearby, like you so desperately wanted to reach out to him…

·         It took a few weeks before he realised how wrong he was

·         You’d reached for a sip of water and your arm had just whipped outward from your body

          + You’d absolutely drenched him with your entire glass of water and could only stare in abject horror wondering what the supposed vampire would do next, since you’d interrupted him rather smugly detailing his plans for your first date

·         Silence

·         There was just silence

·         It only made your anxiety worse and the muscles in your face just spasmed without your permission and - god did you just smirk at him again, oh no        

         + “I’m glad one of us finds this amusing. If you did not like the idea there were other ways to tell me so.”

 ·         You almost want to cry from sheer embarrassment at this point because the date really had sounded like it could be fun and now you’d just straight up thrown water in his face like he’d insulted you in the worst way imaginable

·         So you come clean and tell him about your stimming

·         He’s really worried at first because autism? Anxiety he’s heard of but autism sounds very dangerous, are you dying? You’re probably dying. He’s going to lose his mate –

·         Another involuntary finger twitch from you forces him to calm down because your anxious enough without his worrying on top, so he kind of brushes it off and makes no big deal out of it

·         Squeezes your hand and kisses your forehead to try and reassure you all is forgiven, even if he does have to go change a very expensive looking designer shirt and god you’re so sorry

·         Of course, that kind of makes it worse for you because anxiety brain is activated and your 99.9999% sure he’s actually furious with you still and has only pretended to forget it while he’s plotting his revenge

·         You see him late at night when you struggle to fall and stay asleep, reading in the low lamplight at his desk across the room, his laptop propped open and a notebook before him but you’re too scared still to ask what it is he’s reading so intently (probably good suggestions on places to bury your body welp)

·         It’s a complete surprise to you therefore when he does take you out on that date he promised you not two weeks later

 ·         He’s chosen a nice overcast day so he’s in the least conspicuous clothing he owns

            + Demetri’s least conspicuous clothes still consist of the most chic and expensive brands you know of and he sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the quaint little market stalls he’s brought you to see

·         Despite the gloomy weather the people of Volterra are out in full force though, swarming the market stalls and chattering and laughing as flashes of gold and silver from jewelry hit your eyes, bright coloured fabrics following

·         It’s all just too much

·         There’s people everywhere and so much noise, so many colours and lights and people brushing past you…

·         Your fingers clench tight around his, his hand immersed in a glove to keep his freezing skin from chilling you too much

·         He squeezes back lightly, eyes shifting to glance down at you with the kindest smile on his lips

         + “Keep squeezing my hand whilst we find somewhere quieter to stand.”

·         Your fingers seemed to take turns pressing into his rock solid skin, an odd sort of comfort coming from the fact you know you can press down hard and he won’t so much as register the sensation, and Demetri squeezes back, just firm enough he knows you can feel the pressure of his palm on yours

·         He takes you to a quiet little side road where the noise is much more faded and there is so much free space around you you feel like you can finally breathe again

·         He still hasn’t stopped squeezing your hand, taking turns with you as you take some steady breaths and try to focus your senses a bit, one thing you can feel, two things you can see, three you can smell...

 ·         “I hope you can forgive me, I did not expect the market to be so busy today with the weather like this.”

·         His apology takes you completely by surprise because how would he even know you struggled with crowds? You barely know each other?

·         Seeing your surprise Demetri rather sheepishly admits as to what exactly he’s been reading all those nights you’ve seen him at his desk, and you’re a little overwhelmed to realise he’s been reading about you

·         Medical journals, mummyblogs, charity websites and more, if it had any information about autism and stimming he’s browsed through it and taken copious amounts of notes, observing you religiously to see what might be relevant to you and how he can help ·         +  “I read somewhere you self-stimulate to calm yourself when you are anxious or your senses feel overwhelmed, is that what happened?”                                    “Well, yes, actually, I…I…”

            “And did it help? Taking you away from the source of stress and letting you squeeze my hand like that?”

·         It had actually, you felt much calmer and Demetri’s obvious acceptance and willingness to help you manage your stimming and anxiety today were one of the first little moments you fell in love with him, looking back on it 

·         He didn’t stop there either. Together you sat down and made a list of all the things that you found most often triggered your stimming, and all of the things that brought you joy so he could figure out things to avoid and things you might like for your future dates

·       �� Within hours of arriving home you’d gotten a whole new daily routine set up so you weren’t left to languish and wonder what was going to happen next

·         Three days later an express shipment of your favourite smelling scented candles arrived alongside a Bluetooth speaker, supplies Demetri insisted were necessary for nice calming baths on the days your anxiety was playing up

·         He started doing mindfulness practices with you in the evenings

·         He never touched the volume controls for his laptop, speaker or TV, leaving it to you to control the volume so you could set it to a level you were comfortable with, and he religiously policed the noise on his floor to           + “Where are you going? The movie just started…”                                                    “To tell Felix to turn his music down.”               “You’re vampiring again Metri, I can’t even hear that.”

·         When he signed you up for Yoga and meditation classes at a centre in town you drew the line and told him he was going overboard, but bless him he had tried

·         Overall he’s a solid 15/10 for effort, even if some ideas are still experimental - you’re enjoying the deep pressure massages a lot though – and he sometimes goes a bit mother-hen trying to get you out of situations he thinks you’ll struggle with, when actually you’re coping just fine today

·         You love him dearly for it

[headaches-and-coffee]

Waking up with the impression you would have a bad day was one of the worst feelings Jaskier had ever felt. He didn't have a reason to have a bad day, he reasoned with himself, he was at Kaer Morhen, Ciri was training with Geralt, the other wolves were all very nice and Yennefer decided she didn't want to spend all winter wheedling him. He didn't really know why he had this feeling of impending doom, so he just went down for breakfast. If the others noticed his less than sunny demeanor they didn't mention it.

He decided to stay in the library for the day, not feeling up to composing or even playing his lute. 

On the way up the stone steps seemed to change their heights, making him stumble and cling to the wall. He felt out of sorts, like his brain was being squeezed and trying to escape his skull at the same time. He knew the feeling and that staying on a dark and mostly silent place would be best for him. He had the beginnings of a migraine, one of the ones that didn't go away for love or medicine.

Jaskier stumbled into the library and lowered himself on an armchair slowly, to avoid the splitting pains he got for as long as he could. He drew his legs up and hugged them, his head resting on the back of the chair and lolling to the side. Now if only he could take a nap like that. 

"Jaskier! Jaskier where- there you are!" Cirilla's voice jolted him from sleep and into the pain that raged through his skull. During his sleep it had gotten worse, he must have kept his teeth clenched as an ache now traveled from his mandible down to his neck.

"Geralt asked me to find you because you didn't appear for lunch. You don't seem very well, should I get Yennefer?" she started speaking almost too fast for him to understand and altogether too loudly but slowed down and dropped her volume to almost a whisper after seeing him wince.

"No need, dear one, there's nothing she can do for me," he smiled through the nausea and only succeeded in making her worry more.

"I'm getting Geralt then," she turned on her heel and ran back out the door.

Jaskier sighed and prepared himself to face yet more people. He probably wouldn't be able to sleep anymore and his shoulders were also starting to cramp.

He rose from his chair to try and shake his muscles loose a bit but black spots danced through his vision and he swayed. He would have fallen too, but Geralt, who he hadn't even heard enter steadied with a hand under his arm.

"It's just a migraine, it'll pass," he said before Geralt could ask anything.

"You should at least eat something," Geralt pulled him closer and put his hand on the small of Jaskier's back.

"I'll just throw it back up," Jaskier tried to shake his head but stopped as soon as he started.

"I'm getting you back to bed. Will you sleep it out?" Geralt asked, already moving to pick Jaskier up, grasping his hips and lifting him. Jaskier crossed his legs around Geralt's waist and his arms around his neck, happy for at least not having to stumble his way even higher into their bedroom on a tower.

"I'll try. I keep clenching my jaw and making everything hurt more," Jaskier mumbled against the warm skin of Geralt's neck.

Geralt moved them fast without jostling Jaskier too much. They arrived at their bedroom and Geralt nudged the door open. The reason Jaskier hadn't decided to come up there, besides the amount of stairs, was that the bedroom had windows all around and the winter sun brightened it from dawn to dusk if the curtains weren't drawn. As they weren't now.

Geralt put Jaskier on the bed and hurried to close the curtains. When he looked back Jaskier had disappeared under the covers and had a pillow mostly over his Can I try something?" he asked and placed his hand on Jaskier's shoulder.

"What?" Jaskier asked back, not moving an inch.

"Just something I read on a book, when I was updating the library."

At that point Jaskier just really wanted the pain to stop and to sleep for a week if possible so he made an agreeing noise and jolted a little, much to his chagrin as it triggered another wave of pain, when a pair of warm hands touched his neck. They curled gently around his neck, their blades resting on the start of his shoulders and thumbs gently pressing, looking for something.

Bright, cold pain shot up his neck faster than he could do anything as Geralt dug his thumbs into the space between his vertebrae. He didn't even make any noise, couldn't really, as he tried to bring his shoulders up and move Geralt's hands away. It seemed to last an eternity but as soon as Geralt took his hands away he noticed most of the pain from his migraine had vanished, leaving the discomfort from tight muscles.

"What the fuck."

"I read about it in a book and then asked Regis about it. Then Triss. Apparently humans have researched enough to understand how to to both cause or stop excruciating pain with putting pressure on nerves. She taught me how to do it. In fact she seemed really interested in the matter," Geralt moved his hand to sift his fingers through Jaskier's hair, "Do you think you can drink at least some water?"

"Yeah, sure. I still don't think I'll be much use. I'm not actively wanting to die but I feel like I've been trample by a herd of particularly angry horses," Jaskier turned to face Geralt's thigh but didn't move the pillow away from his head.

Geralt lifted the pillow, bent down and presses a light kiss to Jaskier's temple before getting up and going to fetch water and something that wouldn't upset Jaskier's stomach too much.

-

After Jaskier drank and ate, Geralt made him take off his sweat soaked shirt and massaged the knots out of his shoulders and neck. Jaskier let himself fall into a doze, enjoying the warmth of Geralt's fingers and the weight of his body where he sat on his thighs. 

After they were done Jaskier put on soft sleeping shirt and Geralt brought him to lay with his head in his chest. His arm took the place of the pillow Jaskier had over his head for pressure and he gently scratched his nails along his scalp.

Jaskier had started the day dreading every second, but over the course of events he could admit this was the better outcome. He smiled softly as he heard Geralt absentmindedly hum a tune, feeling his hands caress his hair and back. Sleep took him slowly, the last thing he felt was another light kiss to his forehead.

[thewatermelloncat]

The Dead Follow

Summary: Written based on this prompt from Anonymous:

Klaus is at a family meeting called by Luther and he is sober but nobody knows other than Ben. So of course, the dead people occasionally say things to him so he starts to get all nervous while Ben keeps telling him to say something. The other siblings just make rude remarks saying that he’s probably high until he has a panic attack and they realize that he’s not.

Warnings: Panic attack and PROMINENT TOPIC OF ADDICTION – if either of these make you uncomfortable and/or could be triggering, please give this fic a miss.

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

He’d relapsed last week. One ill-advised drink had turned into more, he’d mixed some things he wasn’t proud of, and Diego had found him lying unconscious on a street corner.

No one had said much about it but Klaus knew they were all disappointed in him. He was disappointed in himself. They’d mostly been concerned he thinks. At least one of them had always stayed by his side until he gained the ability to function again.

Afterward, he’d expected a lecture but he was never given one. It seemed that his siblings had decided that all the words they could say would sound obvious so they were left unspoken. Some part of him wished they’d lectured him anyway because by them not saying anything it seemed like they didn’t trust him to listen.

Then again, he didn’t know if he would have.

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

He wakes up shaky. Every limb is fuzzy and every step feels like he is pulling a ton of bricks behind him. His head is splitting in two but he knows that this is the price he has to pay as the last of the drugs leave his system.

Pulling on his long black coat more for comfort than warmth, he makes his way down to the lounge for the family meeting Luther had notified them all of days ago.

As he travels through the academy silhouettes of people brush past the outskirts of his vision, seeming to be minding their own business. Some walk alongside him until they find where they are going and break off from his path, traveling down another hallway. Others wonder aimlessly, walking back and forth through walls regardless of whether the door to the room is open.

He should have expected the ghosts to be back but he wishes they had stayed away for longer. The prospect of seeing them everywhere he turns has him itching to get his hands on the liquor bottles he eyes as he walks into the living room.

As to be expected he is the last one there and sits down on an empty couch, picking up a few odd stares from his siblings at him not saying a word. Though their conversation continues quickly and their eyes draw away from him.

“Klaus, it’s going to be okay” Ben says from the other end of the couch, having noticed Klaus’ eyes darting around.

Klaus barely spares him a glance before his eyes shift elsewhere in the room. There are more ghosts than he’d expected.

“It’s always worse when you’re getting sober” Ben reminds him calmly.

Klaus knows that he’s right. Normally he can tune most of the ghosts out but when he’s only on the brink of sobriety his powers are hard to harness and he can’t block them out. That’s what makes staying sober so hard. Sometimes he can’t make it through the difficult period without needing a fix. It’s a hard cycle, a sometimes endless –

“Klaus” Luther’s voice pulls him out of his circling thoughts. “Are you even listening?”

“Sorry, what?” he blinks slowly and shakes his head, unfolding his legs that had at some point tucked themselves into his chest.

“Nah, he wasn’t listening” Diego seems to chuckle a little.

“What was the question?” Klaus knows to ask on instinct.

“There wasn’t a question” Allison sighs in irritation. “Luther was just saying that we should go through and get rid of some of dad’s old things. Make the place more our own.”

“Sure, whatever” Klaus mumbles already fading out of the conversation. Staring off as more ghosts congregate around the room.

“That’s it?” Vanya’s voice sounds distant. “No ‘we should have a sacrificial burning ceremony?’ No requests to burn marshmallows over the bonfire?”

All living voices fade away as Klaus begins to hear the ghosts mumbling to each other as they surround his littlest brother. He can’t make out what they are saying but their murmuring tones don’t sound happy as they shuffle around Five too closely for comfort. Like they are trying swallow him with their masses, only he remains blissfully unaware because he can’t see them.

“Probably high again” Klaus’ ears prick up again at Luther’s voice, his eyes flicking over to him.

“Klaus, we know you slipped up last week but I thought you were better than this” Allison joins in.

“You promised you’d come to us” – Klaus tunes the rest of Vanya’s words out. He never remembered promising anyone anything, unless if he did it without meaning it.

Everything is getting too loud. Overlapping voices of the living and the dead. His sibling moving closer to him and the ghosts filling the spaces left behind by them.

As his eyes focus more on them, he can see the red spots of bullet wounds in their foreheads or their chests, sometimes both. They were all clean kills – merciful almost. Though none of their quick passing seems to dull their anger at their killer.

Gradually Klaus can feel his breaths getting deeper, more erratic. He’s losing control. His hands feel weak as they grapple onto anything that he can hold to ground him. The sting of his finger nails digging into his ankles as he pulls his legs close to his chest works only for a moment before he gets accustomed to the pain.

“Klaus, you have to tell them what’s wrong. They can help you” Ben advises looking at his brother being swallowed by panic.

But Klaus can’t bring himself to speak.

“I don’t think he’s high” Diego’s voice stands out to him but Allison’s snap of disagreement gets lost in the flood of voices.

He watches as his siblings’ eyes all travel to Five who straightens up like he was just asked a question.

“No, I’m with Diego on this one” his voice sounds surprisingly clear given the noise in the room. “Look at his eyes, they’re not bloodshot.”

“But he’s panicky” Luther states with his tone unsympathetic, merely factual.

While Five continues an unheard explanation, Diego picks up a cushion from a chair near by and tosses it at Klaus. Though he didn’t see it coming he catches it quickly, pulling it into his chest and curling his body around it.

“His reactions are fine” Diego’s observation works its way to disproving the high theory.

The remaining angry and disappointed expressions are wiped away. Leaving looks of confusions and concern.

“What is it, Klaus?” Luther’s voice though still commanding sounds gentle.

He only chews at his lip, too frozen to speak.

“Klaus, tell them” Ben prompts.

“Everything is so fucking loud!” Klaus suddenly bursts out, voice shaking. The words of overlapping conversations becoming too much to bear.

“Klaus, we’re not yelling at you?” Allison says calmly.

“Is it a migraine?” Vanya guesses. Already talk erupts between the group of siblings, delegations to get mum, dim the lights, find pain relief.

“No… no” Klaus can only deny weakly and shake his head. They have it all wrong.

It’s a fair few seconds before his words register and the group stops in their tracks.

“Then can you tell us what’s wrong?” Allison asks taking a step toward him. “If you didn’t take anything, what is it?”

Klaus’ chest convulses, his voice readying him to speak while his mind still argues whether to explain or continue to spiral into panic.

“It’s your fault I’m like this” Klaus finally chokes out, turning to Five.

“Me?” Five draws his head back in confusion.

“They follow you everywhere!” Klaus tells him, close to hysterics.

“Who follows me?” Five asks lowering his voice and talking slow, trying to calm him.

“All the people you’ve killed.”

Around him the room seems to sombre as if the sun faded behind the clouds. The room darkening around them.

“Klaus, I” – Five starts, taking a step toward him.

“Stay away from me” Klaus interrupts him, throwing both hands out and shrinking further backward into the couch. “Stay the fuck away!”

“Klaus, I did what I had to. The deaths of those people are on my hands not yours. It wasn’t” – Five begins again, but Klaus doesn’t relax a muscle.

“Five, just go” Allison says calmly, her hands down low in a placating manner.

Five looks conflicted as his eyes flick between Allison and Klaus. His instinct is to go to him but he has to fight against it because that’s not what his brother wants. Allison is right, Klaus needs Five out of the room.

So, after a distressed breath and a shuffle on his feet, Five walks briskly out of the lounge. Once through the doorway he turns back to look at his brother again, chewing at his lip with worry etched on his face, before he turns back and takes off running.

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

After Five’s footsteps fade the room stays still for a long time. For Klaus the murmur of ghosts had dissipated as they followed his brother away. Now with the room occupied only by the living, his heartbeat slows in his ears leaving the room in an eerie silence.

He looks up hearing his siblings shuffling on their feet and their hands twisting in the fabric of their clothing, they are all looking away from him. Allison seems to sense Klaus looking at her and turns back to him.

“What can we do?”

“Nothing” Klaus tells her honestly.

“Surely there’s something” she presses.

“Well, it’s not like we can kick Five out” Diego smirks humorously with no malice.

“C-can someone go check on him?” Klaus asks. Having his brother alone after all he said doesn’t sit right with him.

“I’ll go” Diego volunteers, his smirk dropping as he jogs out of the room.

“Klaus, there has to be something” Allison repeats in disbelief. Not accepting that there is nothing that can help him.

“There’s nothing you can do” Klaus assures her. “It’s my fault anyway, I shouldn’t have relapsed. It’s always worse after that.”

“I shouldn’t have accused you of being high again” –

“We” Allison interjects between Luther’s apology.

“We should have asked if you’d taken anything before jumping to conclusions.”

“Taken anything…” Vanya suddenly repeats to herself.

At her quiet voice everyone looks over to her staring at the floor in consideration, her hands clasped in front of her as she thinks.

“I think I have an idea” she says looking back up and speaking clearer. “The pills that dad gave me dulled my powers, maybe they can do the same for yours.”

“Vanya, we still need his powers. Just like we need yours” Allison cuts in.

“I know, but just for days like this when they get too much.”

“They’re pills” Luther points out bluntly.

“I never got addicted to them.”

“I’m sorry Vanya, but you don’t have a history with addiction” Klaus reminds her.

“You’re right, I don’t” she agrees. “But we can give mum some to analyse. She’ll be able to tell us whether it will be safe or not.”

It still feels wrong and Klaus looks over to Ben nervously.

Even before he speaks Klaus can already read the look of consideration on his face. “Mum will be able to tell if it’s safe. No one will make you take anything you don’t want to.”

Externally Klaus relaxes. He can’t deny that he has been waiting for a way out of his powers for a long time, away from the drugs and the alcohol. Though internally nerves still course through his veins. Whether because he’s afraid of a new addiction or that he’s afraid it won’t work, he isn’t sure.

“Do you really think it will work?” Klaus looks up at Vanya.

She can see desperation in his eyes and her lips purse into an encouraging smile. “We’ll see” she says gently before repeating, “we’ll see.”

[boat-dock]

Hello this is part 1 of my first Legacies Hosie fic!! it's very slowburn

The entire school was in chaos, had been since Alyssa trapped the Saltzmans in the prison world, but now with the full moon approaching Hope could finally save them. She’d been inconsolable all month, refusing to leave her spellbooks searching religiously for a way to save them. And she found just in time. It would take an insane amount of power, but power was always one of Hope’s specialties, plus she had an entire school full of witches backing her, together they could do it.

They had ten minutes till the full moon crested, the wolves were downstairs locked in the transition spaces ready to turn, the witches were outside preparing for the spell and the vampires were running around the school doing god knows what making an insane amount of noise. Hope felt like she was the only adult in the school these days. 

That was about to change however because Mayor Donavan and Sheriff Mac walk through the front doors with Ethan and Maya not far behind. She didn’t have time for this, the mayor wasn’t her biggest fan and she couldn’t deal with him right now, she had a spell to do and Saltzmans to save.

“Where’s Alaric, we need to speak to him.” the mayor’s eyes never met Hope’s once while he spoke to her. So she looked past him to Sherif Mac who was scanning the entire school, Maya clung to her brother like she was holding him up, and Ethan looked terrified. 

“Sorry he’s not here right now and we’re all kinda busy so it might be best if you left.” Hope tried to keep her words polite but the mayor had to be insane bringing townies here on a full moon, the screams would start any minute now and they definitely didn’t need to hear that. How could she explain to them that Dr. Saltzman and his daughters are trapped in a prison world with the twins insane relative and right now that was her priority not whatever politics they came to talk about. 

The mayor seemed to realize that Hope was his best option right now,” look Ethan here triggered his werewolf gene this month and we need your help.”  

“What?” Hope tried her best not to scream. If she was capable of getting a migraine she would have one right now. 

Before she had the chance to say anything else Raphael and a man Hope had never seen before burst through the doors nearly taking out Ethan a group of vampires that happened to be walking past. His eyes landed on Hope and light up,” Hey long time no see Mikaelson. We were kinda worried we weren’t going to make it before the crest of the moon, but it looks like we’re just in time.” 

“Raph I am so glad to see you,” Hope grabbed his arm and pulled,” This is Ethan a baby wolf, I need you to take him to the cellar with you and talk him through it.” with that she turned to Ethan, trying her best to be caring she placed a hand on his arm and lowered her voice,” Ethan I wish I could be there to help you with this but I can’t so all I can say is that this is gonna hurt like hell but don’t fight it that will only make it worse.” his eyes went wide and he paled slightly. Hope didn’t have time to wonder what exactly happened when he triggered his curse but she made a note to ask him about it later. 

Raphael was already leading Ethan down the hall when Maya interjected,” Wait I want to go with him, he shouldn’t be alone.” 

Mayor Donavan spoke up before Hope could,” Absolutely not!” he screamed positioning himself between the two siblings. She knew that the two were close but the look in Maya’s eyes when he did that was one that a Mikaelson could relate with.

 Sheriff Mac was oddly quiet through the whole thing maybe she’s still in shock about the whole supernatural community, so Hope had to handle this herself,    ” He won’t be alone Maya, there are dozens of wolves down there all of whom have been through exactly what Ethan is going through right now. He’ll be ok.” 

Hope wished she could do something to ease the worries the family was going through but MG appeared behind her using his vamp speed to enter the room unnoticed. 

“Witches are ready with the spell Hope,” he announced before he read the room and as soon as he did he eyes went wide and he was gone again hopefully headed toward the woods where the witches were waiting with the spell.

“What spell?” the Mayor growled. It was no shock to anyone that he hated supernaturals and to him, Hope was the worst of the worst if he found out Dr. Saltzman wasn’t here who knew what would happen to the school. It was Hope’s place to protect it and all its students. That’s why she turned away from him and walked out the front door to the woods with her head held high. She knew he would follow her but at least she was getting him away from the school, the witches in the woods could defend themselves.

The moon was high overhead as they made their way swiftly through the woods. She was doing her best to block out the Mayor’s voice behind her throwing accusations, but it was even harder to ignore Maya’s eyes on her as moved. Hope was used to people not trusting her it came with her name, but what she hated was being the center of attention. It’s been happening more and more now that she’s taken over the role of school hero but that didn’t mean she was getting used to it.

 They entered the clearing and everyone fell quiet. Twenty-five witches stood in a circle of salt and flame. Kaleb, MG and, Landon stood to the side with Alyssa Chang who was tied to a tree, Hope had taken extra care to make sure she couldn’t do magic and interrupt the spell. All eyes were on them and she could practically feel the mayor shrink beneath them. 

They stopped moving as Hope continued forward. The circle parted for her and Hope linked hands with them. She started the spell, muttering under her breath and the others followed suit. She’d given them the incantation two days ago to memorize while they waited for the full moon. The magic flowed between them, she forgot what it was like to have a coven sometimes, not that she was ever truly accepted with the french quarter witches but she’d done her fair share of magic with her family and she hated to admit how much she missed it. This school was a family always had been even if Hope tried to avoid it, this is what families did, they fought for each other and there was nothing that would stop her from getting the Saltzmans back.

There was a flash of light. Just like when they disappeared from the cry pile in the twin’s room a month ago. Hope squinted against it but still could see nothing. And then they were there, the twins were holding each other up while Dr. Saltzman stood in front of them with his crossbow aimed at a fourth figure. 

Hope wanted to cry with relief, seeing her friends alive and safe, but she couldn’t just yet. They’d gotten one more Gemini witch then they’d bargained. Hope knew the stories, he murdered his family tried to kill the twins before they were born. Hope didn’t know what his master plan was but she was sure he had one and Hope was going to stop him before he had the chance to put it in action. 

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 50

Things were fuzzy for far too long. The second Tony had let go of you and left to go retrieve Loki from whoever had taken him, you stumbled back to sit on the bench. Steve had asked you something- probably as much as Tony had in the way of you being alright, but once you waved him off, he left next. There was no imagining what damage they were doing to the world below, and not enough in you to start trying. Loki was away from you now, which gave you enough room to breath. To pause.

To think.

This really was far beyond you. Never in your life had you ever had someone attack you that way. Something that deep. So personal. Technically… that’s what you did to people all the time, though not quite as aggressively. It triggered a migraine that had long since become familiar to you, although you hadn’t had one of this caliber in quite some time.

“You gonna be alright? What happened?” You barely caught Nat asking you this, and if she was focused on you, it meant whatever was going on down below wasn’t necessary to pay attention to. Then again, Iron Man and Captain America had left together. They probably had it more than handled.

“I tried to look into him. He looked back.” Hand to your head, you pressed your face to the cool metal of the jet’s wall, burning up.

“Seems like he did a little more than looking.” Fragile as you were, her uneasiness tore through you, no defenses to stop it. “You didn’t answer me.”

“I’ll be fine.” Accidentally curt with her. “-thank you. I’ll be okay… I can continue.” The last thing you wanted right now was for her to put in some word about you going weak and have them toss you from the mission. Even though really what you did want was to never be near Loki again.

But that just wasn’t how this was going to work. Now you thought you understood. That was probably the exact reason you were here. You couldn’t bail on it now. You just had to do better. Whatever it took.

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

 Too much time passed before Tony and Steve reentered the jet with Loki in tow- and another face- the man who had stolen him for that short period. Thor you recognized, from his file and videos. The brother. It made sense, you supposed, that he’d be here to try and stop Loki. It was probably a very bad look for his brother to be out murdering people on a planet that didn’t belong to them.

But then again, what did you really know about gods and aliens? About Thor and Loki?

Tony stood firm beside you while the jet moved into motion again. As you looked up, you caught Thor frowning at you. “Has he hurt you?”

All you could do was offer a weak smile. “I’ve had worse.”

“I am sorry for the trouble he’s caused.”

Behind him, Loki was rolling his eyes with a click of his tongue against his teeth. It was probably better to make peace with Thor, he seemed more sensible. And kind. “Hold your apologies until the whole thing is over. You might not know what you’re apologizing for just yet.”

He smiled at you. “Wise words, perhaps.”

Tony leaned a little closer to you, waiting until Thor turned the other way to start speaking with Steve. Then, quietly, “You cozying up with the Wonder Twins already?”

“One of them, at least.”

He made a face, pretty displeased about your continual disposition to try and make friends with the people you had to work with. But his expression softened as he put a hand to your forehead. “You okay? What did he do?”

Now the second time you had to answer, “I wasn’t ready for him. Next time I will be.”

“There doesn’t have to be a next time.”

You let a silence sit, considering this. But, in the end you knew that probably wasn’t true. Still, “We’ll see.”

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

 It was freshly night in the timezone the SHIELD helicarrier was sitting over, making your haziness even worse. The precise reason why, after docking and after agents came to haul Loki away, you requested a shower. Something Fury directed a very annoyed look at you over. “We’re not running a hotel.”

“Come on. Giant airship doesn’t have personal rooms? Not even for the top dogs? Should have asked me to look over the blueprints.” Tony crossed his arms.

“Who told you you were top dogs? They lied to you. You’re not running the show.” Fury turned his back on the entire team, following in Loki’s wake. Probably smart, to not be away from the man causing so much trouble for too long. Where they were going to keep him…? Good question.

A dark haired woman turned to you. “We bunked you and Mr. Stark together. If you take the elevator down two levels, it’s the third room on the right hand side.”

Grateful immediately, “Oh. Thank you, agent…?”

Her smile was a brief flash before she simply nodded. “Hill.” Then she, too, took off.

Even though you moved to go, Tony put a hand to your side quietly, letting the others turn and following the agent train going on. Once out of earshot he looked at you. “Are you okay to go by yourself?”

“I’m fine.” You were getting progressively better the more time passed, but you already knew the reason he was asking that. “Don’t make it too obvious.” Leaning up, you gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

The last person waiting cleared his throat. The two of you looked at Couslon. “Take any longer and we’ll seal you outside on the deck and start moving again.”

“We’re coming.” You called to him with a half smile.

“Always so cheery, isn’t he?” Tony looked after him as he left the two of you alone outside.

Giving him a small pat, “Go easy on him. We have a world destroying demi-god in custody and… I think he’s having a tough time with his girlfriend right now.” He barely ever talked about it, but it was clear his secret agent life was kind of interfering with any semblance of a love life. You understood him deeply.

Tony gaped. “Girlfriend? Well in that case I better hurry up and give him some much needed advice.”

“Be good.” You warned him. He just grinned. “When aren’t I?”

With the rest of them busy on the bridge, you excused yourself two floors below and into the room Agent Hill had directed you to. It wasn’t anything fancy, that was for sure, but then again, Fury was right. He wasn’t running a hotel. It was just enough to sleep in if need be. A small room with a bed and some side tables, and a bathroom through the door to the left. The sparseness of it all left you surprised that they’d have a robe hanging on the door hook- even if it was of the extremely scratchy variety. As were the towels.

But the water was fresh and hot, and that’s really all you needed. Enough to soothe your muscles and calm your mind for just a little while. You knew you couldn’t stay in there, much as you would have liked to for the next few hours. You took about as much time as you thought you could afford before stepping out, drying off just a little and then putting on that robe-

Just in time to be interrupted by the door opening. You assumed it would be Tony, coming to check in on you, so your startle at seeing someone else there took a minute to start up. When it did, a delayed noise came from you and you turned, even though you were fully shielded.

His hands went up, “Oh! I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I thought this was my room- I was pretty sure...”

“It probably is.” You offered, completely embarrassed. “I wasn’t really paying attention when I came down here. I’m sorry.” Turning you looked at him, a few seconds enough to match his face to what you knew. Bruce Banner. The Hulk. Well. Some of the time. According to his file, he hadn’t actually had an incident as they called it, in quite some time.

Not sparing a moment longer, he closed the door. “Don’t worry about it. And you can keep the robe.”

Once you were sure he was behind that completely closed door, you quickly started drying off and then getting back into the clothes you’d came in. Not the funnest of adventures, but oh well. “Is it yours?” Not knowing if he was still there or not.

Yet for one reason or another you delighted in the fact that, for whatever reason, he was still hanging around. “Me? No. I packed light. Must be a uh… standard gift.”

“I’d have preferred a gift basket full of meat or something.” All zipped up and back in your shoes, you folded the robe and towel and left them on the counter. Exiting, you smiled as he looked up. “It’s good to meet you, Bruce-”

“Despite the circumstances?” He was grinning lightly, hands wringing gently together.

“Which ones?” You teased.

Nodding, “Fair enough. Actually I uh… I think I wanted to talk to you. Do you mind?” When you shook your head he turned towards the front door. “Wanna take the long way back up to the lab?”

“Oh, they have a lab? I bet you and Tony are getting up to all sorts of fun.” Agreeing both out of necessity and curiosity to his request, stepping aside him to walk aside him in the hall.

He chuckled softly with a shake of his head. “Not yet. Soon, I imagine. But at least I get why he’s here.” Straight to the point, it seemed, even if you easily sensed he meant nothing by it. At least not malicious. You waited for him to continue. When he did, his tone was a little bit darker. “SHIELD bring you here for me?”

“Not that I know of. I think I’m supposed to be undoing whatever Loki’s doing.” Speaking as honestly as you could. It was probably better to get this out of the way now. He must have been thinking about it for a while.

“Yeah. Except as far as I read, you’re supposed to be some sort of empath, right? Not really in the business of mind control. And on the other hand-”

“That’s what they tell me, anyway.” Joking right now probably wasn’t the best idea. But you couldn’t help but try to relieve at least some tension.

“Sure. So what happened to you? Some sort of experiment gone wrong?” He glanced at you, a lift of his brows.

Shaking your head, you couldn’t help a small smile. “No. I keep getting asked that. No one did this to me. It just kind of… happened. One day I started feeling a little too much.”

You were slightly surprised to catch the sight of his smile where before he’d seemed pretty serious. Considering what he was trying to ascertain, you couldn’t hold it against him. “Maybe you’re just sensitive. They make pills for that.”

At that you couldn’t help a giggle. “Is that all I have to do? Take some pills and all this goes away?”

“Don’t we all wish it were that easy.” You caught him wringing his hands again out of the corner of your eye. “So you don’t think you’re here for me. ...but you know why I’m asking.”

Shrugging, “About as much as you know about me, I’m guessing.”

“Just enough.”

“SHIELD is in the habit of only telling you what they think you need to know. And nothing more.” Something you’d become all too familiar and frustrated with over the course of your dealing with them. At the end of the hall you spied two agents, guns in hand, take a hard look at the two of you. “Seems like everyone’s a bit on edge.”

“Yeah. I do that to people.”

“Could just be Loki.” You gave him a softer smile.

“Wouldn’t that be nice.” Soft sarcasm right back at you. As the agents stepped aside for the two of you so you could get on the lift up, “You don’t seem to share the sentiment.”

“Do I need to?”

This time he grinned. “I don’t think I get to answer that question. I’m pretty involved.”

Finally pinpointing what he was really getting at, “I’m not scared of you. And I’m not here to control you, Bruce. And even if that’s what they wanted me to do… it doesn’t really seem like I need to.”

To this he just crossed his arms and gave a little shrug.

You felt for him. Everyone around must have been walking on tiptoe, avoiding him, watching him. How could anyone live a normal life the way he was? And being around people that should have understood it, they still treated him like a monster.

It made you feel terrible- because that’s what you’d been calling him ever since you’d seen that scant information about what had happened in Harlem. A monster. The other one, Abomination, had been a monster, too. Both altered by the Super Soldier Serum irrevocably. But now you understood it a bit better. While Emil Blonsky had done that to himself, with Ross’ help, ultimate to try and stop Bruce-

Bruce had had that happen to him by accident. With all shadowy help from Ross. You’d seen transcripts. That Bruce hadn’t been properly prepped on what he was working on. Because Ross only wanted his brain. But this was the way SHIELD worked sometimes, too. They told you just enough. Even when that wasn’t enough. And it caused problems.

On top of it all, he’d been handed a file that probably said he was to be closely quartered with someone who manipulated emotions- the one thing that set off the beast lurking inside him. It made all the sense in the world he was trying to get a read on you. What other choice did he have?

Giving him a little nudge, hopefully not playing too friendly, “You seem pretty normal to me.”

This urged a more real laugh out of him, seeming to catch him by surprise. “Okay now I know you’re trying to butter me up.”

“Is it working?”

The doors opened and the two of you looked at one another. He broke first into a smile. “Maybe just a little. Still...” His hands pressed together as you disembarked and turned the corner.

“I’m sure SHIELD did its fair amount of convincing, if they need you. But I’m also sure you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to.” If he couldn’t handle it, you meant. Or thought he might not be able to.

“To be fair, I didn’t know we were riding this.”

“You’re not asking me to, but just know that I trust you.”

He nodded, though didn’t seem completely convinced. Outside the lab doors he stopped, turning to look you over. “Doesn’t seem like a lot of that going around.”

“SHIELD isn’t the most trusting type.”

He grew serious very suddenly. “And you and Tony. You are?”

You countered with bright optimism. “With the right people.”

Bruce seemed to be considering the idea- or more likely, you. No doubt many agents were on this ship trying to get in good with him just to be on his good side just in case. But it wasn’t like that. You weren’t frightened of him. He seemed like a decent man who had been given a very shitty hand at life and was trying his best.

That was something you not only respected but something you understood.

As he opened his mouth to perhaps give a final verdict, he was cut short by the lab doors opening, Tony appearing behind them with his hands in his pockets. “Having a little party without me? She does that often, you know.”

“I do not.” Pouting just a little, playfully.

Bruce dropped his head with a light smile and a small chuckle. “I’d hardly call it a party.”

“That’s because I wasn’t invited. Get in here. We’ve got work to do.” Clearly not going anywhere, only having activated the doors just to get you two to stop standing there and join him, he turned around and went back to his work station.

Gesturing, you allowed Bruce to step ahead of you. And while you were right about to join the two of them, heavy footfalls sounded at the end of the hallway and you turned to see a very tall, very beefy man in a red cape coming your way.

Thor.

Tony and Bruce looked quietly as he approached you. You stood your ground but gave him a light smile, one he didn’t return immediately as he spoke. “I have been told that Loki assaulted you.”

Opening up your body language, your hands dipped into your back pockets. “To be fair, I think I technically assaulted him first.” Not that Loki deserved fairness right now, but… well. They were brothers. While you got a good sense about Thor, that may not have meant much.

Sometimes family was stronger than good sense.

“Retaliation, then.” He surprised you with a grin. “Regardless, I must apologize for his behavior.”

Your brows lifted. “If that’s the way you feel, you’re gonna be doing a lot of apologizing.”

His smile just as quickly vanished. “Yes, it would seem that way.”

“My point being, his sins are not yours. Even if you are brothers.”

Thor seemed not to know which expression to pick next. He hovered somewhere between softly disappointed and… a thrum of fondness he hid from everyone else. But couldn’t, from you. “While that may be the case, I am the reason he’s here. Whatever actions he inflicts upon others due to this… I must bear them as my own.”

Yes. For sure Thor was a much more stable and far better man than Loki was. But there was also something about Loki… about your encounter with him… while it wasn’t smart right now to go back and see him, especially not alone- ...you had some thoughts you needed to check out.

For now, you gave Thor yet another gentle smile. “He’s the reason he’s here, Thor. Just because he’s throwing some sort of murder-rage tantrum because he’s mad at you doesn’t make it your fault. But we’ll be the reason he stops.”

Like another flash in the pan, seeming to enjoy your sentiment, he reached out to put a hand on your shoulder, joined with a bright smile. “You are wise, Lady… Lady. ...is that what I should call you?”

He did have that old-timey affect to him. Lady in this instance was probably just the proper way of addressing a woman where he came from. Which made it especially hilarious that your Avenger name had now fully become one and the same. Tony raised a hand from behind his work desk, “Uh, I have a suggestion.”

“No you don’t.” You quickly cut him off. “Just the one Lady is fine.”

His hand came down on your shoulder, perhaps a little harder than he meant it to, but you bore his weight with a steady stance. “Lady it is. Thank you for your kind words, Lady.”

“You’re welcome, Thor. Any time.”

The two of you shared a nod and one last light expression and then he continued on his way. Brief meeting over, you finally stepped into the lab, the doors whooshing shut behind you. Bruce had his head down, working on the table top keyboard. “You have a way with words. He’s been sulking since we got on board.”

Tony huffed out a laugh. “Doesn’t she just? Do I have to worry you’re about to disappear over the rainbow?”

Coming to stand next to him, you couldn’t resist a little laugh. “No. I mean, come on. Look at our circumstances. I’d be way out of my league walking around gods like those.” Tiredness seeping back in, or maybe it was the familiar draw of his comfort, you leaned your head around him.

While he poked and prodded and worked his way through something on a hologram monitor in front of him with one hand, his other arm came around you, giving you a light squeeze. “What a pitch. No I won’t leave you because he’s out of my league. Love everything about it.”

“Am I witnessing some dysfunction? Should I leave?” Bruce looked up, although it was clear he was joking with the grin he was wearing.

You grinned back. “No, stay. I’ll need a witness.”

“Or a ringer. You’d back her, right? I’d be in a lot of trouble.” Tony shared in the mutual grin and warmness going around the room.

Joking easily about what was making the other agents ostracize him. “Oh, please. I can handle you by myself.” A small pause for thought that ended in, “Besides, he’s lying. He thinks he could take you.”

Bruce was practically toothy, the smile he was wearing, head still down. Tony shrugged. “Well. As long as you’re saying it. I mean I’d love to see. Can we set up a playdate?”

“Let’s just get through this first. And if we’re all alive after…?” Bruce mirrored the easygoing shrug.

You tutted with a sigh. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that. He’s going to hold you to it.”

Despite himself and his apprehensions, other people’s apprehensions, here in this little lab on the helicarrier, Bruce laughed. Although it was with a shake of his head, you felt the small slip of a wall. Letting down where he felt he was being treated like an equal. Like a person. Not just a bomb.

You might not have been able to figure out the thing with Loki- not right now anyway-, and this was surely going to spell out a hell of a lot of trouble for your personal life, but… maybe being an Avenger on this little team wasn’t so bad after all.

[gaiatheorist]

Dejected.

On Thursday night into Friday morning, my son going to bed woke me up from my half-sleep. I came downstairs so that the clatter-click of my keyboard didn’t disturb him, also so that I could watch the election results come in, and not worry about any out-loud swearing happening. As it turned out, I needn’t have bothered. A little before midnight, he came halfway down the stairs, then back upstairs, then all the way down.

We sat, staring at our screens, flicking between platforms, and repeatedly hitting ‘refresh’ on the news. I’d dug a little deeper into the exit polls than he had, and found that our constituency was predicted to show 99% Conservative. Now that’s A Very Big Thing, because since its actual inception in 1918, this area has been Labour-landslides. 101 years, staunch Labour, I’ve joked about “I vote Labour because my Dad voted Labour.”, and I’ve also mis-remembered about the racist shop-keeper, that was the town council election, not parliament. My son and I had been quite excited when our MP announced his retirement, and even more excited when a young woman was voted in to replace him. It’s not a male/female issue, it’s the fact that he was 73 years old, and fairly consistently either abstained from parliamentary votes, or voted against the Labour party. He was a dinosaur, we were excited about the young woman, my son had been sniffing around her social media, and she seemed to be the right kind of rabble rouser.

We watched the bars on the graph chase each other red-ahead, then blue, then red again. My son tried going back to bed at one point, but couldn’t sleep, so came back down, and faffed about making herb-infused milk, and asking me for natural sleep-aids. I’m not best placed to advise on that, my sleep issues are at the other end of the spectrum, I can fall asleep anywhere, but when I wake up, I can usually tell within a minute or so if I’m going to be able to get back to sleep, if I’m not, I just get up, ‘trying’ to go back to sleep frustrates me. Under normal circumstances, I can just potter around the house quietly until the boy gets up, generally around mid-day. Both of us being awake at daft o’clock in the morning is not a good thing, especially with the tension of the election as background-noise. 

I can’t quite remember what time the chanting started, but I imagine I must have given him ‘the look’. Only the two of us in the house, so every time he spoke, I looked up, in case he was saying something that needed a response, he wasn’t, he was muttering ‘Labour majority’, and ‘I refuse to acknowledge the Tory votes, they are not real.’ I had more of an idea of which geographical areas were historically held by Labour, and did occasionally mutter ‘Fuck!’ under my breath, all the boy saw was more of the map turning blue. There was a brief period of him shouting ‘No, NO, that is not what I voted for.’, predictably enough, his anger/denial lapsed into bargaining, twittering away like a Maths-budgie, doing complicated things with numbers. (He’d also tied a scarf around his head, when he’d tried to go back to sleep, and kept peeping one eye out when he was speaking, absolutely ridiculous.) There were lots of tears from him, I stayed calm and neutral, distanced and watchful, waiting for him to either stop chanting, or say something concerning. It turned out to be the latter, he’d been cycling up for quite a while when he shouted “I don’t want to live in a place like this, they’re voting to kill people-like-you!” That’s a trigger-phrase, and it needed some unpicking. You can live somewhere else/You’re young, you have a whole life ahead/You’ve just graduated with a hard-science degree from a Red Brick university/I’ve had three years of them trying to kill me, you know I’m resilient/This situation makes me even more determined to help other people.  I can’t remember how many times I have used the ASIST suicide-aversion strategy, I never thought I’d need to start it with my own son. He jumped up from his seat, and ran into the kitchen, I could hear his breathing between the sobbing and muttering, I knew he needed space, but also knew that he was now in the room where most of the knives are. No knife-noises, which is lucky, because he’s bigger and heavier than I am, I know I wouldn’t be able to overpower him if it came to that. He stomped back into this room, and, for a minute-or-so that seemed like hours, he punched the fuck out of the sofa. (I was trying not to let the “Please don’t break that, I can’t afford to replace it.” show on my face.)

He cried some more, and ranted some more, doing that weird thing he does when he’s highly emotional, of following me around the house like a lost lamb, he knows how much that annoys me, but at that point, it was down to me to convince him that there was a point to anything at all. A human the size of a whole man, following me around the house in jogging bottoms that had been part of his school PE kit, and a T-shirt that was too small for him, exposing a VERY hairy belly, that’s from my DNA, not his Dad’s. We were both back in the living room when the count from our constituency came in, we were obviously looking at different count-sites at the time, because I was the first to say “Oh, shit.” he looked up at me, and said “Has it gone?” It had. For the first time in 101 years. For the first time ever, because the ward/borough/whatever had only been in existence since 1918. Back to bargaining, he’s very good at Maths, and hope springs eternal. “We only need ‘x’ number of these votes to take the majority.” “If there’s a coalition of Labour and the SNP we can do it.”  When he started chanting ‘Labour majority’ again, I responded “Will you stop doing that, please?” Another melt-down, full on leg-swinging and snotty-snorting-sobs. “That’s all I’ve got, Mum, why are people doing this?” (People are idiots.) “Some of it is the EU, some of it is people with money knowing that the conservatives won’t increase taxation, some of it is fatigue/apathy, and some of it is people who dislike Jeremy Corbyn.” “It’s WRONG, though, it’s going to KILL people-like-you.” “It hasn’t killed me yet, and it won’t, as soon as I have more idea of the next medical intervention time-scales, I’ll volunteer with one of the local advocacy places, and help other people get through this.”

We crossed the point of no return on the graphs, and then the conservative party broke through the majority line. The boy and I chatted a little about how stoic Jeremy Corbyn has been in the face of unfounded allegations, and how insidious the conservatives have been in turning public opinion, with no fight-back mud-slinging from labour. “However this plays out, we’ll know we voted with our consciences, to give other people help, not harm.” “Is that enough, though, Mum?” “It will have to be for now.”

He went back to bed, I was so anxious about leaving him alone in that state that I was late to my gym appointment, which was a cancel/reschedule from earlier in the week when I’d blind-sided myself with a migraine from filling in the second of two 40 page forms, and cross-referencing 35 pages of additional evidence. This is conscious cruelty, there’s every chance that, buoyed by the confidence of a conservative majority, DWP might order me to another Work Capability Assessment for my UC, or a face-to-face for my PIP. I have permanent brain injuries, confirmed C-PTSD, and probable ASD, I’m not going to ‘get better’, and if DWP want to declare me fit-for-work based on my ability to pick things up from the floor, I’ll be taking names. 

This is horrible. I ‘lost’ most of yesterday flitting in and out of fretful sleep, the house is a tip, and, to make it even worse, I ordered in a take-away last night, and managed to eat a grand total of 4 chips before I felt nauseous. Saves cooking tomorrow, I suppose.   

[scripttraumasurvivors]

How much support should my character’s husband be able to offer for support? I get there has to be a limit at some point, but they’re two traumatized people who are codependent on each other, and it’s not suppose to be the healthiest relationship. So should there be limits to how much they support each other?

First off, I want to reassure you that it’s okay to write a relationship that is not The Healthiest relationship.

(I do think you should sit down and decide if in your story their relationship is something that is going to stay the same, get worse, or get healthier.  Just because that can help you figure out how it can interact with the rest of the plot.)

There are going to be limits, or there are going to be consequences. 

Just because that’s how people are. These limits don’t have to be in the nature of ‘ah yes, Charlie realizes leaning on Alex in this way hurts Alex, so he learns a new coping skill or leans on someone else.’

It doesn’t have to be ‘Alex sets a boundary and then Charlie respects it.’

But two traumatized individuals are not always going to have.... a perfect schedule of break downs. Two people can be In Need at once, and turning only to each other becomes.... a real recipe for disaster at times.

People often have competing needs. And people who don’t know how to communicate (and have someone who is willing to listen) about these competing needs often hurt others without meaning to. 

Think of one character who feels better when they’re in the presence of their partner- but they want the distraction of the TV. The partner might have a migraine, might not be able to handle the sound of the TV for other reasons- and they might go to another room. They could storm off, they could quietly excuse themselves-

but unless everyone is aware, you often end up with the person who went to be near their partner feeling like the other person is mad at them. When really, it was just about the noise and if people communicated it could have been fixed.

Now that is a super basic example. There’s all sorts of conflicting needs out there- 

if partner a sleeps better when partner b is in the bed with them- and partner b suddenly goes through a flight of insomnia- you have several possible things that can occur:

a) A starts losing sleep. If B doesn’t go to bed, they don’t go to bed. This starts affecting other areas of both their mental health.

B) They might start pushing B to do xyz in hopes that it will make B sleep better, and thus both of them sleep better. B might feel like they’re pressured and that doesn’t help anyone sleep.

c) B, knowing A isn’t sleeping well because they aren’t in the bed, might force themselves to lay down when A does. Laying in bed when your insomnia is caused by say.... intrusive thoughts- is a good way to end up self-destructing later.

Characters can also end up spiraling, triggering one another into worse and worse behavior while thinking that they’re helping. There’s also a whole lot of room in this realm for resentment. ‘I’m doing everything I can and they aren’t doing anything for me!’ is something I’ve heard a lot... and usually the truth isn’t that it’s a one sided relationship, it’s that people don’t realize, or want to accept- the sacrifices their partner is making for them.

What happens when there’s a timing conflict? If the husband is in a meeting and the partner calls having a panic attack-

what happens? What wins? Supporting the partner or keeping their job? (If this is an ongoing problem or it was say, a very important meeting.)

So I think the main question you need to ask yourself when looking at their dynamic is:

Where are the consequences?

When consequences occur, do the characters learn new things? Do they grow and make their relationship just that... one iota of a space healthier?

And what do the people around them think of their relationship? Do their friends and family support them? Do they have help they just aren’t taking? Are they constantly being told they need to break up? What is going on from the outside, that is going to affect each individual's outlook on the relationship. 

The world is not filled with Unhealthy and Perfect relationships. There is a whole lot of room for grey. But the more grey a relationship is, the more consequences there are going to be, and the more that relationship is either going to have a ‘it’s us against the world and we have all this bad luck because NO ONE UNDERSTANDS’ mentality or a large festering dose of resentment for each other.

Hopefully that helps a bit,

TS

[poppyknitt]

Baby Steps (A JSE egos fanfiction + smol easter egg)

(Please note that this fanfiction is a slight deviation from the main storyline of my current line of fanfictions, and is still just as important, but also will not be totally necessary to read if all you wanna do is read the main story)

(Also, if you are triggered by even just the mental image of things like extremely loud noises, slight psychosis, and other things that can surface when dealing with post-coma brain issues and also Darkiplier type demons at the same time, I suggest not reading past the dog park scene. It gets real bad after that. Especially because i wrote this at fucking 10-11PM like an idiot.)

Seán sat on a bench in a dog park, his memories still blurred together. His doctor had recommended he get a dog or something to help ease the stress of not being able to remember anything from before he slipped into a coma, but honestly he felt like he didn’t have the time for it, so he just took daily trips down to the dog park, and hope that he was lucky enough to be able to pet one of the dogs there.

A few hours passed, and wouldn’t you know it, there’s the one and only Mark, who’s visiting for a few days, because he’s on tour.

“Oh! Hey buddy!” Mark yelled, and jogged over.

“Hey Mark.” Seán said. He would have to get used to being called “Jack” whenever he was with his youtube buddies, for whatever weird reason. He didn’t really understand why people didn’t just call him by his name now, since everyone already knows it.

“What’s going on pal? I heard about the coma thing. How long have you been back in it?” Mark was already bombarding him with questions.

“Agh, slow down! My head’s still getting used to the real world..” He said, gripping his head as another migraine started setting in.

“Oh, jeez-! God, I’m sorry, Jack. I forgot about the brain stuff that comes with comas... Man, if I knew you were haning out in dog parks, I would’a brought Chica with me!” Mark said, laughing at the last part.

“Ah, jeez... Who was Chica again..? Wasn’t that a yellow bird in a horror game..?” Seán trailed off.

“Well, yeah, kinda, but Chica’s the name of my golden retriever!” Mark replied.

“Oh! Yeah, right! I remember now! Aw, man, I miss ‘er! She looked so cute the last time I saw her!” He grinned.

“Anyways, since I’m here, wanna do a collab? Maybe stream a few things together? I dunno. Just.. Do something fun, I guess.” Mark suggested.

“Heh, yeah, maybe later though. I need to get home and take some painkillers or something.” Seán said.

“Oh. Well, alright then! See ya later, nerd!” Mark waved happily as Seán slowly walked off, and then muttered under his breath once his friend was out of earshot, “Ha. Painkillers. Fucking wuss.”(because this is actor! Mark. Not real Mark.)

Seán sighed to himself as he got into his car and drove home. God, missing out on a little over nine months of his life... What all even happened while he was out...? And why did everyone change..? Mark’s being weird and aloof, Henrik won’t tell him anything, Robin’s being quiet all of a sudden... God, he wished he knew what was happening. He arrived at his place, and went inside, shutting the door behind him. Jeez... maybe he should get a dog.

~~~~

Mark paced impatiently in front of his computer, waiting for Seán to call, “God damn it, where is he?!”

“Mark, don’t be a dick.” Amy huffed in annoyance.

“Well I’m sorry that I’ve been waiting for almost a whole day to do a collab with Jack, and he hasn’t even bothered to respond yet!” Mark said in his weird sassy voice.

——

Seán Jack woke up, and immediately felt a strange sense of dread in the back of his mind, which was abnormal, because this was his house, and if anything, he should be the one igniting fear into the hearts of anyone who tries to break in. He shrugged it off, and got up, looking at his computer instinctively.

“Oh, fuck! I forgot about the collab. Shit! Mark’s gonna be pissed!” He yelped, and immediately prepared himself for a collab video or two. When he was done, he hurried into his recording studio, and began the collab.

Mark joined the collab while Jack was still fumbling around in search of his headphones.

“Looking for these?” A sinister voice voice, much like Mark’s, echoed from the computer, sending chills down his spine. He slowly turned to see...

His headphones on his keyboard.

“Oh, there they are. Hey Maaaarrrrrkkkkkk- AH HOLY FUCK WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!” Jack screamed, jumping back from the monitor when he noticed it wasn’t Mark talking to him, but rather, his dark ego, Dark, so naturally, he played it “cool”, “Oh! Hahahaha! I-I see! You’re just fucking with me, aren’t ya, Mark? Yeah! I know your tricks! You can’t fool me!”

“Oh, I can assure you, this is not computer effects. I am very, very real, Jack.” The voice echoed throughout the apartment.

“What do you want from me?!” Jack exclaimed. The lights in his house all bursted, and Jack screamed, covering his head, as his ears began to ring, “Ahhhh! Why?! Why now?! God! No! This is a terrible time! I haven’t even taken any medications!”

“Jack! Jesus fucking christ! Where the hell are you?! Why are you screaming?!” Mark yelled, which, strangely enough, was comforting to hear.

“Mark! Oh thank fucking Christ! Dude! Your dark ego dude just fucking assaulted my house!” Jack yelled.

“What?! Dark ego? What the hell are you talking about? Wait, don’t tell me you believe the bullshit the community’s telling us!” Mark growled.

“I didn’t! I swear! But that fucking bastard just tapped into our conversation! He-He took over my computer! Please, Mark! For the love of god, I’m not crazy-!” Jack got cut off by his house’s alarms all going off, which caused his ears to ring again, his head’s pain to get worse, as he immediately started repeating “ow” and “oh fuck, oh god, oh no” over and over, as he started growing dizzy. Reality and fiction began to blurr as his pain only worsened, and soon he couldn’t tell what was in his head and what was actually happening, as he slowly fell to the ground.

The last thing he heard before passing out was Mark yell, “Amy! Call the fucking ambulance! Jack��s gone nuts or some shit and his house sounds like it’s gonna fucking explode!”

~~~~

Jack woke up on his way to the hospital, and jolted up, his whole mind filling with absolute terror as he recalled the previous events. Lights flashing. His computer screen was glitching the hell out. Alarms blaring. Mark screaming in either panic or anger. Worst of all, however, was that the last thing he could recall seeing was Dark looming over him as he lay on the ground, clutching his head in pain and screaming his ass off as his brain knocked itself out over all the noise and pandemonium that seiged his nerves and made it feel like his head was about to explode. As he realized he was now in a hospital room, he noted that he could also hear the distant sound of Henrik’s distressed voice as he snapped back to reality.

“Seán! Seán, you idiot! Vake zhe hell up! Vhat zhe hell happened?! Why are you back like zhis?!” Henrik bombarded him with questions.

“I-I don’t know! I-I was gonna do a-a collab with Mark but then that Darkiplier dude that tumblr obsesses over appeared on my screen and talked to me and all the lightbulbs exploded so my head was hurting and something happened, Mark was yelling at me, and then all my alarms went off and I-I blacked out but like just before I did, the Darkiplier dude appeared in my apartment?! I-I don’t know! Nothing makes sense! I-It’s all so blurry!” Jack rushed through his words in a blind panic, but that didn’t matter, because as soon as Henrik heard the word “Darkiplier”, he ran the fuck out.

Jack heard him screaming at Mark in the other room.

“Vhat zhe hell is vrong vith you, you idiot?! I zhought I said to not try to speak vith him until zhis all blows ovah!” Henrik yelled.

“I didn’t think you were fucking serious! I didn’t even know the asshole would attack Jack! I thought it would be fine!” Mark yelled back.

“Notzhing is evah fine vhen you are involved, Mark! Not anymore! You zhink you are helping vith your videos, but you are only making zhis situation vorse for zhose of us vhom have to be stuck in zhe damn crossfires of you and your stupid little var vith your stupid little dark egos! At least ve have zhe fucking decency to keep away from ozher youtubers vhen Anti attacks us! Zhose two are not vhat you zhink! Zhey have much more power zhan you can even imagine, and vhat do you do? You release them into zhe fucking vorld by recklessly involving ozher people in your stuff! Just fucking vait! You should be more worried about your stupid friends zhan keeping your channel relevant!” Henrik ranted.

“Alright! Alright! I get it! You think this is my fault! Fine! I’ll take the fucking blame then!” Mark yelled back.

“Don’t you get a fucking attitude wizh me, you bastard! Oh, I am so going have a vord vith zhe ozhers about zhis! And believe me, Mark! Zhis vill not happen again!”

Jack sighed, and closed his eyes, resting his head against the pillow. He didn’t understand anything they were discussing anymore.

~~~~

Jack opened his eyes, and froze. The world was glitching between normal colors and monotonous colors, like it had been when he fainted. He immediately shut his eyes, not wanting to deal with this again.

Why? Why him?! What the hell did he do?! He just wanted to hang out with his friend! Get back some of the time he lost while he was in comatose! Not this!

“Jack! Jack! I know you’re awake, you clueless bastard!” Mark said, and Jack opened his eyes to find the room was normal again.

... Oh god... What kind of demon did he unleash upon the world this time..?

[Sean #1/Darkilplier Prologue pt. 1]

Henrik #1

Marvin #1

JBM #1

Chase #1/Darkiplier Prologue pt. 2

JJ & Robbie #1

Anti #1

Sean #2

@antis-loyal-puppet

[basklin]

A love letter to Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number

or how I learned to stop worrying and love the game.

Hotline Miami 2 turned 3 yesterday, I thought I’d write something up for it!

The following contains spoilers for both Hotline Miami and Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number. I'm going to put it under a read more seeing as I got carried away.

I didn't get to play the game on its release date, I was busy with real life. My sister was playing a part in her university theatre troupe and had a role as Miss Prism in The Importance of Being Earnest, it coincided with the date of Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number's release and I was going to go back to the house me and my family were staying in at the time. It was a moment of respite during a time of year where I was working on my final art presentation for my school and I had worked non stop on it. I wanted to play the game since its announcement and having finished the first Hotline Miami less than a year before, I had waited so long, I could wait a day longer, my time was my own to work with. The comics by Dayjob Studio had gotten me really excited for the game at the time as well, more than happy to see my favorite medium put to use in promoting a game I was looking forward to.

I got back to my student flat in the early afternoon and made myself lunch, downloaded the game (updates and bug fixes included) and happily started it up. I'm ashamed to say now that I was expecting most of what the first few levels had to offer, since I'd spoiled myself on a leak that came out a few months before the official release of the game. I originally wasn't going to watch it, but a friend who'd watched before me said there was a character with my name in it, seeing as that was so rare to me, I caved in really fast. (Fun fact: it was the direct inspiration for one of the first comics I did for that game)

I have to point out that I'm thankful that the game's slasher style tutorial wasn't spoiled in the leaked gameplay footage, as it was a genuine joy to see the amount of details in the level design at my own pace. There was a big buzz around that level when journalists were framing it as an unwanted shocking sexual assault scene in a game about senseless violence and cartoonish gore. The game's meta commentary about sequels and how that kind of scene is used in horror movies for upping the shock value was lost on me too, but we can't be expected to get the point of a moment in media the first time. The presentation in most cases for this is frankly overblown and lasts around 3 seconds, a pair of pixellated buttcheeks over a woman I didn't even know the name of yet wasn't going to put me in a catatonic state, but a trigger warning  asking a player if they want to be spared from that kind of scene before the start of the game is always a worthy inclusion.

Even today the first 5 levels of Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number are the perfect representation of the rest of the game: big sprawling detailed areas, a diversity in those locations, playstyles associated with named characters, and an actual commentary on violent video game protagonists.

As mentioned before, I was very much looking forward to the game's release and getting around to playing it. I had gone cold turkey on playing the previous installment, wishing to discover the gameplay anew and making my patience feel like a reward when I got around to playing it.

I wrote “named characters” because giving them a name makes them more real, part of the world, with motivations unique to them. Not just an avatar the player can slip into and mirror back what the little amount of pixels with a human shape might be beginning to feel when committing violent acts. That also means there are more stories that come bundled together, they're more present than ever and harder to ignore for a player who wants to skip to the next action set. The arcade game format of the first game alongside its simplicity is lost, but more story is what I wanted in the sequel, so I can't complain.

Playstyles and characters were a joy to discover and experiment with these characters comprise of:

The Fans, covered in colourful war paint with their individual animal masks and expertise, all set out to go on a vigilante murder spree, chainsaws and guns in hand.

Manny Pardo, the detective whose motives remain unclear, with a more gun oriented gameplay.

Evan Wright, the writer with the one with the most unusual playstyle of the lot, seeing as he tries to do non-lethal takedowns of people he chooses himself to be around needlessly putting him and his family in danger in pursuit of the truth behind the first game's phone calls. This unique gameplay can be made into the default one by going too far on ground executions, making him go into a blind rage and seeing red.

The Soldier, limited to a single gun of your choosing whose ammunition must be replenished through carefully placed boxes throughout the level and an army knife for close range combat.

The Mafia, comprising of the Son of the former leader of the Russian mafia and his Henchman. The former wanting to reinstate the dominance of the Russian mafia after the Colombian cartel took over and the latter wishing to break free of this cycle. The Son has the same array of skills as the Fans, exception made of the chainsaw and gun combo, making him a reckless one man army, and a cool parallel between the Russian mafia and the vigilantes in animal masks.

And the last playstyle, what feels like the default way to play the game, is the one found in the first game. Simultaneously not making you feel contrived to play a certain way, but not making you feel overpowered either. It's shared between a handful of characters in the game: the Henchman , the Rat, the Pig Butcher, and the Snake. (although the latter is able to play in a fists only way with one of his masks)

Guns only, dodge rolling, fists only, a chainsaw and gun at the same time, double MP5s, and even non-lethal gameplay help to define everybody really well, beyond words and appearances.

Getting to explore levels that are massive and open was the biggest game changer, being tunnel visioned and sticking to melee weapons became a death sentence for some levels with frustration quickly rising. I remember reading the advice that guns made too much noise in Hotline Miami, the result was sticking to a melee weapon and executing fallen enemies; which rewarded you with more immediate points than firing with the different array of guns, but rising combo counters and being wary of cover definitely became the name of the game in the sequel, for better or worse.

Gone were the collection of small colourful appartement buildings, what felt like cardboard boxes with “Miami, Florida” scrawled in felt tip pen on them; instead we have unique looking buildings, that feel inhabited, grubby at times, and more unwelcome than ever for a gunfight. More windows, and getting shot from offscreen, and enemies for which you have to use a specific kind of weapons on to progress through the level, all at the same time.

Multitasking is asked from the player, being aware of the enemies in your surroundings along with the abilities and limitations of the character you are playing. Not to mention hard mode which you unlock after finishing the game for the first time, with more reaction time and ammunition conservation playing a bigger role by then. Hotline Miami's puzzle side could expand to its full potential and the developers have truly made a better game. More thought, more gameplay, more amazing music tracks from a variety of indie musicians, and more story was put into Wrong Number, it was everything I was hoping for and I wasn't disappointed by the game at all... At first.

This isn't going to relate to a few people, but I try to finish games as fast as I can. Not speedrun them mind you, I like playing games too much for that, but finish it from beginning to end in a timely fashion. In the past, my interest dropped very fast for games that require time, knowledge of all its controls, or reflexes to beat and will get frustrated if I can't get back into the groove of it after a few months of not playing it. I tend to start over because I've either lost track of the story or of the rhythm of later chapters. On top of that, I didn't want to be spoiled accidentally or put it off too long. I remember finishing Hotline Miami's main story in one sitting only coming back the next day to finish the Biker levels, why not do it with Wrong Number?

To this day, I regret playing Hotline Miami 2 in one sitting. After 3 hours without a break, I had a slight headache, by the time I had finished the game 6 hours later, I had a migraine. By playing it the way I had, I'd successfully completed the game, but gotten a feeling of disgust by the end of it. I've had hangovers that felt better.

On a side note, that day I got a call from a classmate who wanted my opinion on the direction of his end of the year comic presentation was going. He came round when I was in the middle of Deathwish, on the level with Corey, what felt like the ultimate test of skill at the time. And I definitely gave vibes that I wanted to get back into the action, despite taking the time to answer questions and discuss his comic project (if you're reading this Jean, I'm really sorry, come round for tea sometime!). Time feels very fuzzy for this, as I seem to remember spending too much time on that stage, listening to the track Roller Mobster by Carpenter Brut over and over and slowly growing to resent it. I've gotten better since then and like the song just fine now, but I still have trouble with that level.

The assault on the Russian Mafia's headquarter by the Fans is a 4 floor action packed romp, where they all have their own floor for themselves and aim to meet each other on the roof of the building. Things don't go as planned for reasons that weren't explained immediately. Only after Deathwish do we realise that the Fans we had played as had fallen in battle one by one and died during their siege as we were playing the next floor. Now, characters whose gameplay were unique at that point got killed offscreen, with one onscreen by the police, rightfully so as they had only themselves to blame for their demise. I felt drained by the time I had come to what I thought was the end of the game. It turned out that it was the midpoint of the whole story. A pit in my stomach was slowly forming: there was going to be more after all this?

More of everything is both a blessing and a curse, more music leaves room for tracks I'll have a hard time liking, more violence means I'll slowly be apathetic to the character's struggles, and more characters is forgetting the levels that features only one of them, wondering why they were even there in the first place and if they could have been cut in favour of a smaller cast with their unique gameplay. Excitement had passed and doubt had settled in: character driven stories are what I love most of all and the cast was slowly thinning down. Those who had died weren't seen again in the story, was it going to keep my interest? I certainly expected it to.

I finally took a break to have dinner and a stretch before coming back to continue Casualties, the final level featuring the Soldier. The stages between that one and Deathwish are wonderful, great even, but they felt as thought they don't fit into the main story, I remember later trying to rearrange all the levels, keeping in mind which levels concluded each chapters and found that everything fitted really well together as it did. I was still getting over the previous levels so maybe I wasn't enjoying them as much as I should at the time.

I'm going to be honest when I say I forget the Soldier is in the game every time. An actual wartime setting, in an alien looking Hawaii none the less, with a gameplay that's really enjoyable and prepared me for hard mode's ammunition conservation gameplay very well should be memorable. It may be due to the fact that his inclusion was to give a background to the protagonist of Hotline Miami and give the origins of the secret organisation behind the phone calls of the first game, with parallels to mission euphemisms over walkie talkies, commando style hits, and sense of loss to a cycle of violence that doesn't care for its victims or its players. The character's final moments didn't bite as hard this time, even though that one felt the most undeserved out of the whole cast.

The next four levels featuring Richter the Rat are some of the best I've experienced, by that point we were focusing on a new character we'd met in the previous game and of which I didn't think much of at the time. Seeing him was an unexpected surprise for me, a really good one because of all its touching cutscenes and tight levels. Even in his last chapter, with the track Le Perv by Carpenter Brut, reminiscent of Deathwish's nauseating track, was honestly a joy to play through, despite the difficulty. It also was a nice conclusion for the Writer's story, who instigates the Rat's recollection of the events, with a final choice between continuing the book about the vigilante group and its mysterious phone calls or reconnecting with his estranged family while there is still time and discontinuing the cycle of violence, neither choice affects the outcome of the finale, but there is definitely an obvious conclusion in there, for me at least.

Nowadays, I know all the elements and numerous characters were included in Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number so that everything would be done in one game. Everything Dennaton wanted to experiment with, characters that tied different storylines together and both made sense of the first game and concluded its story for good. Hotline Miami didn't have room for flamethrowers or more storylines with other operators, it was an overarching story for the player, to be in the shoes of a hitman in an animal mask, with room to interpret the story for ourselves. The sequel doesn't stand on its own from a narrative sense: I'd be utterly confused by some of the stories of Hotline Miami 2 if I hadn't played the first game, since everything stems from the events of Hotline Miami. The result is that it all feels very heavy to take in all at once.

I really didn't care for Jacket's background, or why he did anything in the first game. He doesn't have a name, or a voice, or a personality, he's really boring in a story sense, but he's the perfect game protagonist. If he can be anything you want him to be, there's no room to dislike him, aside for his violent actions which he doesn't justify to himself in any way, he just does as he is told, like the soldier he once was. We feel what he feels during the violent missions, the sense that we get better and better at the game, the character doesn't improve, as there's no character to improve, we as the player are improving level by level.

So when the sequel explained that he was a veteran that fought in a war we never get the context for or care about, my first thought was that “he was just Rambo”. I hadn't watched Rambo at the time and only ever saw that character in old Atari games where you kill nameless soldiers. He'd always seemed like the generic action movie soldier that looks cool shooting away at his enemies. But since then, I've sat down to watch the first Rambo and saw the tale about young man coming back from war without education, aside from how to kill, back to a country that doesn't need him, and even despises him. It's an incredibly sad thing to watch a character broken by committing and being the victim of violence only to be rejected by the society they served.

The personal interpretations about Jacket is one of the best parts of Hotline Miami, as much as its gameplay, graphics, and music. Wrong Number builds upon that foundation by taking multiple interpretations of what Jacket could be and extends it to the cast of the sequel: he could be a jingoist with a burning hate for Russians (Jake the Snake) just as much as he could be scared for his life and willing to protect a person he loves (Richter the Rat). He's the now unwanted soldier of a war that is long lost (the Fans) just as much as he is the patriot in service of a minority struggling for his rightful place in a hostile environment (the Son). He's also a serial killer in an animal mask (the Pig Butcher) just as much as he is a killer with his own motives that don't have to be revealed to the player (Manny Pardo the Detective). And Biker’s search for answers is mirrored by the Writer, it was only fate that they would eventually meet up.

After the levels with Richter, we have the final 5 levels featuring another one of my favourite characters: the Son. He's the de facto leader of the Russian mafia, a scarred one man army with what feels like the strongest desire of the cast of characters: taking back Miami from the Colombian cartel, the new organised crime network in charge. His Father, the final antagonist of Hotline Miami, felt like a strong businessman with the plan of gaining power over the city through assimilation: striking a deal between the Colombians and their cocaine distribution, owning methadone clinics for the new addicts to heroin and cocaine, and gaining the favour of local politicians. The Son is nothing like that. He has a more aggressive show of power and control, separating himself from organically made drugs in favor for more potent artificial ones produced locally and actively killing his competition through violence, being in a revolution similar to the masked vigilantes in an attempt to undo the damage caused by Jacket in the first game.

As an aside, Manny Pardo has his final level in the middle, throughout the game we are teased with his personal investigation, the one of a serial killer called the Miami Mutilator, separate from the main plot of the game. It all comes to a head in his last level when it's revealed that he is the one behind the murders of the Mutilator, in an attempt to overshadow the media's attention of the masked vigilantes. The interpretation I developed over time was that his story arc was a meta commentary on sequels having their own story and an inevitable lack of interest from fans of the first game, curious instead about a continuation of the first game's narrative.

I remember originally thinking from the game's trailer that Manny Pardo was Jacket and getting really curious about how the story was going to go about, until I realised that he was in fact another character with his own motives and losing interest almost immediately in favour of the Fans revealed alongside him in the video. When it emerged that he was a detective, it seemed immediately more interesting than Jacket ever was, that it would be a character in search of answers, similar to the likes of Biker from the first game. The expectation was subverted, as it turns out that he has more current things to worry about and masked vigilantes are a thing of the past, crime doesn't stop happening and random violence is the norm in the world of Hotline Miami.

After the Detective's final level, we have what has to be one of the hardest challenges of the game: the final showdown between the Son and the Colombian cartel's Boss in his sprawling villa. Even after having been playing the game for almost 8 continuous hours, it really felt like what the game was leading us up to, from random street thugs to the drug army in Miami. And yet, even when the level was all said and done, there was yet another level after that. We are back to what felt like the finale a few hours ago: Deathwish, only this time it's the Son's side of the story, overdosing on his own artificial drugs and going on a overcoloured haze of hallucinatory violence.

Apocalypse is the name of that level, and it's a beautiful boss rush, where all the Fans are turned into monstrous animal shaped fever dreams that the Son has set himself out to destroy in his terrible drug trip, alongside his own men, turned into unrecognisable demons. It all leads to the rooftop, where a rainbow bridge invites us off into the void as the game's credits show up on the screen. The credits fade in favour of the rest of the cast, alive and unperturbed by the finale we as the player went through, only to realise that events offscreen trigger the end of the world, nuclear bombs vaporise them all and...

I didn't get it.

It took a good night's sleep and a bit of thinking to understand what Hotline Miami 2:Wrong Number was about: deconstructing Hotline Miami. The first game's conclusion had a hopeful tone to it, with mocking comments by the developer's stand-ins if we came back looking for more answers by playing Biker's additional levels, with actual answers that feel forced if you actually manage to find all the clues within the game. The sequel ends the world with nuclear clouds and if we start a new game, we get a new introduction at the start of the game essentially asking: “why are you back?”. There were no more answers the game could provide.

Violence is at the core of both of the games and it never seemed to stop. Hotline Miami left us wanting more, Hotline Miami 2 left us with the most violent thing known to humanity. I remember thinking that it was a deus ex machina ending, an answer to problems that seemed unsolvable. But inside the game there’s all this rising tension, focusing so much on the characters distracted me from the fact that it was culminating towards the end of the world. All the characters were trying to solve all their problems through violence, but the world wasn't going to get better through those methods. It was the only conclusion a game like that could have and I love it more than ever.

I cannot thank Dennaton enough for the incredible time I had and keep coming back to with Hotline Miami 2: Wrong Number. It has made me explore media I never would have discovered otherwise and draw things I never imagined I would come to draw. Happy 3rd anniversary to an incredible game, and I look forward to the future.