#when i have nightmares and paranoia episodes and shit.... man

[soft-spooks]

this is for. a fic that will most likely never be written but i just love the idea of. character who is usually closed off no vulnerable emotions ever bejng soooo worried that the shell breaks

just the. something terrible happens and they run over and hold your face in their hands and wont let you go like what did she do to you are you okay come on lets go home

[dromaeocore]

I want to urge ya'll to make space for people with psychosis in your mental health advocacy.

Let me explain.

First off, psychosis in itself is an incredibly lonely and isolating experience. Depression and anxiety have made massive strides in general acceptance and that's wonderful, but if someone has hallucinations or delusions, we're still terrified to talk about them.

Isolation breeds alienation breeds suicidality.

If you don't even feel welcome in mental health spaces that are supposed to be meant for you, you're going to feel really, really fucking bad, man. Your brain is already collapsing in on itself and turning your sense of reality into a nightmare, and then you're afraid to talk about it and feel like an alien when you do.

Another example of this - you'll be hanging out in a group of other mentally ill people and they all start talking about how cannabis helps their symptoms, and insist you try it too, (weed is detrimental to psychotic people, no ifs ands or buts, it's like eating peanuts when you have a peanut allergy) and then you're put in the awkward position of either seeming like a shetered stick in the mud or outing yourself as a Crazy Person.

First of all, you're allowed to have boundaries no matter what, but second of all, I shouldn't be afraid to tell people about this aspect of my mental health.

I also really, really want to talk about those of us who suffer suicide-themed delusions. You cannot make blanket statements like "suicidal people don't want to die, they just want to end their suffering" or "this is a permanent solution to a temporary problem", and you can't paint all suicidal people with the same brush.

I've felt your stereotypical "I'm going to be miserable forever, so what's the point" suicidality. And it sucks. I'd argue that it's just as bad as what I'm about to talk about.

But it's an entirely different beast from when I'm convinced the universe has a target on my head, and I can see into a future where my continued existence sets off a series of events that ends in the deaths of my loved ones and innocent strangers. Or when I'm convinced I have some kind of psychic poison that excaberates the mental illnesses of anyone I spend too much time with. Or many years ago, when I was convinced suicide was the only way to enter the Matrix-like world I was Called To.

I know it sounds crazy. (It is!) But these aren't uncommon delusions to have, and newsflash: we're in just as much danger as any "classically" suicidal person, if not more, because goddamn, when the stakes are "everyone I love will die if I don't do this", you might get pretty damn desperate. In that moment, to you, what your faulty brain is telling you is your reality.

Keeping this shit a secret makes it worse. Delusions kind of feed off the fear of being found out; the more it's kept secret, the more it snowballs, at least in my experience. Some of my biggest coping skills include telling my support system (therapist, partner, close friends) when I'm Going Through It, and I'm lucky that I have people I feel safe enough around to even kind of vaguely talk about it with.

The stigma kept me from telling anyone for years, and most psychotic people will, sadly, have a similar story.

It's also intensely traumatic. Even when you're not actively symptomatic, the memories of the things you saw and Knew thought and experienced still haunt you. It took me over a year to open up to my therapist about the first break I had six years ago. I sobbed my fucking eyes out and was shaking so hard.

I know so many others who will tell you they suffered with symptoms alone for so long. Which is really traumatic in and of itself, but it's even worse when you feel like you can't even talk about it when it's over, because everyone looks at you like some Weird Crazy Person. You can't talk about it, because it's not #Relatable and people believe the stigma.

I want you guys to realize one thing: Psychotic people are human.

We have dreams and hobbies and loved ones and goals and histories and complex emotions just like everyone else. We want love and acceptance and contentment just like everyone else. We just have brains that like to Fuck With Us.

And it's lonely. I wouldn't wish it on anyone, but God, I wish it was okay to casually say "I had a bad break last night" or "I'm having a really scary hallucination right now" or "I went through a year-long psychotic break", just as much as it's okay to say "I'm just coming out of a depressive episode" or "I think I'm having an anxiety attack" or "I suffered PTSD for a few years".

Especially in circles meant to discuss mental illness.

When your friend tells you of their terrifying hallucinations, or their delusions that don't make any sense to you, or their paranoias, please, please, just be there and listen, if you can. Ask questions, check in, see how they're doing. Our struggles may look different, but we're still experiencing pain and fear and loneliness.

And if you need to be able to relate to someone to feel compassion, I urge you to relate to that.

[ships-bynoa]

The Titans are almost back, bitches. aka 3x06

Guys, literally every time the titans are together-or even paired up-the episode gets ten times better, but in 6 episodes there is simply not enough Kory and Gar. I can easily forget that when I’m basking in the episode they are in, especially when they’re giving us family dynamics.

Kory:

“You’re not mad that I left. You’re mad I came back.” Kory’s face tells us Blackfire is right on the money, and who would know her better than her sister?

So, Kory, oh boy. Our girl is on edge. She is slowly unraveling and is super vulnerable and raw with Kom around and little sister is going to exploit it and her guilt, which I think she’s carrying a lot of. So far their dynamic has been fascinating because there’s so much to read between them and so many accusations being flung back and forth, from both. From Kory; you sense guilt and even contempt and from Kom there’s envy and resentment, but also there’s a sense of idealization for her older sister, too, which of course, with younger siblings, there always is an element of that. And as an older sibling, there is always an unspoken and sometimes spoken responsibility placed on them for their younger siblings. Parents often don’t realize it, but they can create a lot of tension within siblingships by assigning roles.

They remember home and family very differently, which is often the case, too. Kom was often thrown in the pit and to that, Kory attributes her sister’s constant rebellion as the reason, and yet, Kory herself was a bit of a rule breaker, sleeping with her guard, Fiddei.

Kory was being suffocated by the laws and customs of her home planet; one could say she rebelled by going on a mission, to escape her duties. Home did neither of them any favors because while one rebelled because she did not fit in, the one who did fit in was dying inside, surrounded by little robots and becoming one herself. Being told what to eat, wear and who to love or be friends with is yikes.

I was thinking Kom began her game of manipulation in the bunker, but she really started before that when she sent Fiddei to bring Kory home when she probably intended to kill him all along. After all she would’ve castrated him if she’d had the chance to for sleeping with Kory in the first place. Shortly after Fiddei’s death, Kory flamed out. No powers. Emotionally wrung out from the news her family was dead and now the culprit is here. These two know each other very well and know exactly how to get underneath each other’s skin. Right now Kom is getting underneath Kory’s and our girl is losing patience fast. 

I’m wondering when exactly Dick will tune into Kory’s anxiety-ridden state and step in to support.

Ultimately, I just want to see what truly happened to the girls on their planet and how we have the versions we have now. Like, Kory said to Rachel, “No one is born good or bad, we are defined by our choices.” I get the feeling Kory has given Kom so many chances to make a different choice and has become disillusioned, meanwhile Kom believes nothing she does will give her the respect she feels she deserves anyway, so she may as well blow shit up, figuratively and literally. At least then she’ll have Kory’s attention.

Gar: 

Gar losing it on Dick was so cathartic and yet he could’ve gone much further, considering Dick abandoned him last season to go jail and hallucinate Bruce. It ultimately led to Gar (and Conner) being kidnapped and experimented on by Mercy. It’s actually all the adults fault this happened, but as the leader promoting his family everywhere he goes, he needs to keep his eye on the ball. He would know if he spent five minutes at home with them that Gar is struggling. Last season Gar was #OperationSaveTitans and this season he’s #ThisFamilyIsDying. He’s doing what the adults should be doing, or at least leading the charge on it. He’s the glue, but who will hold him together?

He’s carrying too much emotional responsibility and Dick’s dismissal, because he is fully locked into Gotham and being Batman, makes me mad. Get your head in the game, Grayson. Gotham is going to eat your family while you retread the nostalgic steps of your past.

We all know Dick’s not good at expressing himself emotionally, though he’s usually forced to express something when talking to or being confronted by Kory, so I was proud of him for giving Gar the floor to speak. I just wish Gar spoke about himself, but then again, he needs more time and consistent offers to be heard. I’m happy Dick followed up the conversation up with a bonding/training session. There was definitely pride in Dick’s face because Gar really has come a long way in this group, but he needs MORE SCREEN TIME. I’d like to see the two of them out in the field together the way we’ve seen Kory this season with Gar and Conner. 

I wonder if Gar losing control is the start of all his trauma bubbling up to the surface, will being in Gotham, hunting down a friend be too much?

As a side, has the CGI tiger face gotten worse?

Kom (and Conner):

First thing’s first, what music are we thinking Kom listens to? Probably the kind of music she can break your tailbone to, like, Kendrick Lamar, J. Cole and Jay Z, or Prince, Jimmy Hendrix, Stevie Nicks and Led Zeppelin? Rihanna?

Kom is absolutely a villain this season and if she isn’t, what a waste that’ll be. A mastermind at mind games (see, her picking up the chess piece), who is going to drum up Kory’s paranoia and anxiety around her being there. Trying to kill her suspicion by guilt tripping her while simultaneously being a do good-er to the group, feigning interest in helping the Titans to earn her way in, a tip from our boy, Conner.

She says she wants acceptance and I believe that’s absolutely true, but she doesn’t know how to get that without using power, so she’ll continue to covet acceptance through and with power because according to Kory, she’s always been a climber. Add to that, being born the cursed child and the only royal member born without the gift of fire, something that differentiates them from the common folk, being too frail to participate in the same games as Kory, having a speech therapist be her only friend while being the object of ridicule and you have a villain origin story nicely set up.

I really enjoyed Conner and Kom’s exchange. The boy lit up when he spoke about seeing his family happy and it made me light up. He’s so genuine and has a big heart and Kom is going to take advantage of it, that’s not to say she won’t develop real feelings for him, but she can like him and still use him.

Conner’s “you have to earn your way into the family,” is perhaps an internal and personal struggle he has from sharing blood with Luthor. I think it may come from an insecure place because he was made a titan as soon as he woke up and no one questioned it, but as he’s only half of superman, he’s constantly trying to prove his usefulness for good, which losing Hank has rocked, leaving him vulnerable to Kom’s recognition for his otherness. Their otherness.

She gave us insight into her mind, but also she has likely seized an opportunity to use the vulnerability against Conner and to her favor by making him her kindred. Outcasts. Will she gain influence over him? He’s still young and learning, and trusting, too.

Her interest in him felt layered, ignoring the ugly customs of sex servants, she was also observing Kory’s relationships and ranking them in her sister’s life. Her being able to determine who may have Kory’s interest (which Kory gave away with her vulnerable display of worry over Dick’s welfare in front of Kom) will surely come into play at some point, right? After all, Kom did kill Kory’s last lover/royal guard. This may be me projecting. LOL.

Romantically, I’m waiting to see how they play it before I decide if I like it or not, but so far, they have a nice chemistry. Friendly.

Dick (and Barbara) :

What a lovable dumb ass. 

I was so happy Kory lost it on him and called him on his lone ranger shit, at least when it’s her, even when he’s being an idiot, he’s still listening. “Let’s go.” and I thought it was hilarious that he tried explaining himself, but when Gar called him out, he got all huffy with, “Excuse me, young man.”

Gar asking Kory not to have words with Barbara over Dick getting shot was so funny because Dick’s face seemed to ask the same when she asked how it happened. We love a protective Kory. I’ll be looking at him when it’s his turn to reciprocate.

I don’t like him dismissing their concerns about his personal safety and how it affects them, it’s like he’s learned nothing after running off alone to battle Trigon, or rather has unlearned his lessons of S2. I’d like to see some more permanent emotional growth from him by this season’s end. In his current state, he’s not an exuding leader. He can’t be when he’s still wrapped up in Bruce and all things Gotham. He’s not tuned into Kory’s anxiety, or Conner’s grief and insecurity, or Gar’s emotional burden. 

He’s started making it up to him, but he has much to do in taking Gar’s concerns and emotional needs seriously.

I’m not even going to try and work out the timeline between Barbara and Dick and Dick and old Titans in San Fran and S1. But it doesn’t bode well that Dick’s dream with Barbara ended in a nightmare. 

I wish they’d never did the whole Dick and Dawn relationship in S2 because they’re basically repeating some of the beats in showing us how they don’t work as a couple, only his relationship with Babs makes a lot more sense even though I don't care. Dick has unfinished business with that relationship, Bruce and Gotham and I can only hope he’s wrapped it up for good by this season’s end. I want to see relaxed, smiling and happy Dick in THE PRESENT. I still Babs will be the one to notice and point out Dick's feelings for Kory.

Barbara (outside of Dick) is being downplayed a little, no? Dismissing Dick’s suspicions about Jason when he arrived, showing no knowledge of Jason’s visits to Crane and then taking the bait and moving Crane after he got a light beat down. A commissioner who was also a very capable vigilante is tricked by a recording and goes to meet “Bruce” on her own. I really enjoyed that she could hold her own and the fight scene was really good, but it was a bit baffling that she fell for that ruse. So far, she’s not entirely good at her job.

Dick’s a distraction in his own right and her feelings clearly get in the way, which is why she keeps asking him to leave the precinct and Gotham; because she’s pining a fantasy and he’s ruining it. Lastly, I really like the way Savannah plays Barbara.

Why’d they do that to Tim?? :(

Overall, it was a better episode and I enjoyed it more than latter episodes, but they’re not quite there yet for me. I’m  still waiting for Team Titans.

[male-reader-requests]

City Lights

Requested by: funk-lil-death-omen

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x M!Reader

Word count:1,847

Warnings: uhhh, trigger warning I guess. I don't really know how those go but this does kinda talk about panic attack/ptsd stuff. I don't know much about it, did a smidge of research but still, I apologize if this is kinda ass.

-

This situation was... well shit to say the least.

The entire compound was on lockdown, every single protective measure Tony had put in place was active and it was all because a cybernetically enhanced kid had gotten freaked out. 

Well, kid wasn't the right term. (M/N) was old enough to take care of himself, and he did well. (M/N) was sort of a lone wolf of sorts, going off on long missions that normally took months to years, he was an enigma, no one knew much about him. 

Well, no one knew much about him besides Bucky. Bucky had brought (M/N) with him when he'd moved to the compound, brought him to do everything pretty much. (M/N) hated other people and was very paranoid about everything.

That should have been a red flag to the rest of the team, but they'd written it off. Paranoia when in an area they knew was safe was not a sign of a healthy mind, the nightmares and the defensiveness weren't either but that had also been written off. Everyone in the compound had their issues and they'd thought that was the extent of (M/N)'s.

Unfortunately their writing off had lead to the situation at hand.

It had started out pretty normal, a normal afternoon where the majority of the compound was actually there instead of out on missions. Someone, Bucky can't really remember who, had been cooking lunch with (M/N) hovering behind them. Whoever it had been hadn't minded, asking him to grab things from the fridge and cupboards, showing him how to do certain things.

Bucky had seen this a couple of times, where he'd get very into whatever he was learning and basically forget about the real world so he hadn't seen the Spider kid come in with some game console. Bucky knew the kid hadn't meant to do it, knew that this would literally eat the kid from the inside out for the rest of his life but when he loaded up some game and the gunfire started to play through the speakers (M/N) blanked out and whatever soldier he had once been came into existence.

He knew what would happen, he'd seen this a few times before also, but it was never a pleasant experience. Bucky watched in horror as he pushed someone into the stove and pulled the gun from his belt up. The entire common area was falling into chaos.

Bucky dropped down, he knew that whatever the soldier in (M/N) was would recognize him, either as Bucky or as Winter neither would be good.

A shot fired out, landing where Bucky's head had once been, and then he was running. (M/N) would find somewhere high up, somewhere with a vantage point that he couldn't escape from, somewhere that if he felt it was necessary he could throw himself from.

Bucky was running after him the best that he could, but (M/N) was fast and he knew to lag behind a bit. It never took (M/N) long to come down, but it was a drop, he'd breakdown and he wouldn't be a hazard to others but he would be a hazard to himself. He had to stay behind him to make sure that he hit that drop instead of fighting against it.

He was safe here, but no matter how much that was proved to him he couldn't seem to accept it.

In all honesty, Bucky felt that he should have seen this coming. He'd known (M/N) the longest, knew him the best out of everyone there and he loved the other male. He should have noticed the sign of this creeping up, he knew the signs, he knew the tells and now all he could do was hope to be enough.

(M/N) hadn't slept in 3 days and his emotions seemed to dull a bit, which was unfortunately normal, but he'd been asking about the weather. He only asked about the weather to see if it would rain and storm and that meant he was stressed, that he was falling, and felt that he didn't have anything to hold onto. 

It meant that he felt he was alone, that Bucky hadn't been there for him. 

It was storming now, an odd sort of irony that he hated. It was the sort of irony to fit those stupid love novels that Stevie would read or to match his emotion but no matter how fitting he hated it.

(M/N) loved it though. He loved the rain and the thunder and the lightning, he loved it out an inborn issue with life itself. 

(M/N) grew up in some tiny ass place where the motto was quite literally "Kill or be Killed". The town was dark and fucked and in all technical terms cannibalistic thanks to Hydra fucking with them. (M/N) loved the rain because it muffled everything, made hunting down others easier when you let yourself become a creature of the night.

And he looked every bit the part.

Standing on the roof with his face to the sky (M/N) stood, soaked to the bone but still beside his breathing. His (H/C) hair was plastered to his face, his shirt and pants the same but his eyes were horribly bright against the dark sky, a shining shade of (E/C) brought on by mutated genes.

He was dressed in only black, shirt stolen from Bucky's side of the closet and cargo pants, boots from when he was active in more than Avengers issues, and he still had the gun in his hand.

Lightning fell somewhere behind him and God he was beautiful, but as they stood there in silence (M/N)'s began to shake, his shoulders moving a sadly familiar fashion that tore at Bucky's heart.

He was whispering something, something he said to himself daily and Bucky knew it by heart and it broke him each morning as he listened to (M/N) utter the words to himself just to stay afloat, just to make it through the day.

"An unfair way to be taught is still a way to learn, and it is over," his voice shook, words slurred together as he struggled. "Whether they change or not is irrelevant. If you change is what you keep hold of."

Bucky watched as he took a deep breath, the gun clattering lightly as (M/N) began to shake in earnest. "You keep fighting," he cried, "Get mad if you must. Focus one what is ahead and step forward, for a life left in the same steps you have always been in is a life wasted." 

"(M/N)", Bucky whispered, those bright eyes landing on him. The both of them were crying, Bucky quiet and trying his best to keep calm as (M/N) dropped, tears falling with the rain as he fell to his knees, the gun skidding across the roof.

This was the point in which Bucky would take over, the point in which he became the rock for (M/N) to lean on as the river started to rise around them. 

Neither of them would make it out of the night with a good conscience, but that was fine. Bucky's job was to make sure that (M/N) was comfortable, to make are he would be taken care of, to make sure he would make it through the next 24 hours.

(M/N) never remembered these episodes, probably for the best with how much he cried during these, but he was always a mess. When Bucky got to him he fought at first. He fought against Bucky's hands as they tried to removed soaked hair from his eyes, fought against the jacket being pushed over his shoulders, against the arms wrapping around him to help him inside but he was tired. Soon he gave up, going limp and letting Bucky bring him to their room.

He let Bucky undress him, he let Bucky gently guide him into a bath and let Bucky get in with him. This was always the worst for the taller male, having to watch (M/N) practically be a doll to the world as his brain tried its best to forget things that only seemed to come up at the worst times. 

The bath was hot and smelled faintly of some flower Bucky couldn't remember the name of, thanks to the bath bomb things Tony had been showing him. It was calm, and Bucky was slowly forcing himself to calm down, to relax. The more relaxed he himself was the easier it would be to get (M/N) to do the same.

He leaned back, metal arm across the edge with the flesh one curling (M/N) tight to his chest. He wanted to hold the (H/C) male, to cradle him much like one would to a child but he had to get (M/N) used to this, used to the touching again. It was slow progress, always was and always will be but Bucky'd do it over and over again just to see (M/N) happy and healthy.

Soon enough, which was actually quite a large stretch of time, Bucky had (M/N) curled against him, one arm over his shoulders with the other on his back. (M/N) had crawled into his lap, face shoved into his neck, and if this hadn't such a bad time Bucky probably would have laughed and joked about how (M/N) was more beast than man.

Unfortunately, this is how their night would go. They would sit in the bathtub well past the point of the water going cold, both of them shivering but refusing to get up or change the water. They would sit there until (M/N) was comfortable enough in his own skin for Bucky to get a towel for both of them and move them to the bed.

The room was also cold, so Bucky went about bundling (M/N) in blankets and turning the heater on, before joining the other male on the bed. His arm produced some heat, as any sort of mechanical thing will, but not much. 

The shorter male protested lightly when Bucky started to unbundle him but calmed down soon enough when he situated the two of them together. 

Bucky had his back to the headboard, (M/N) curled up on his side with his face shoved in his neck again, but there was strength coming back to his hands, his nails lightly digging in where he was gripping at Bucky's arms. It meant he was coming down, and that's all the Bucky ask for in all honesty. 

He loved him, and that's all he needed.

[hazelcephalopod]

The Eye of the World Ch 34-35

The Team bad Luck (Rand and Mat) whump continues! Then it some relief is finally found. Not a lot but some!

Longer one under the cut but probably not the longest so far.

Disclaimer: this is my first read thru but I’ve watched all of the show this far and been spoiled on some book things. So… I’m going to lean into that. Enjoy figuring out what I know, and what I think I know, and what I just don’t. Also s/x I add commentary when I edit.

Spoilers for the first book and up to the most recent episode under the cut. Potential spoilers for latter books.

Ch 34

Rand POV

…honestly I’m a bit worried about Egwene and Perrin

It’s only been three fucking days since that?!!

Yes. It feels like a year to me and I’m just readin it

Also in Carysford

Honestly the paranoia just not unfounded. Like unreliable narrator aside these kids have been chased, for what feels like weeks, by actual monsters. People. And plagued by nightmares which may also affect reality. Yup, some paranoia seems like a normal response to that

Shit river they got there

Huh. These kids really are from the middle of nowhere. Like it’s /Andor/ mostly wilderness. /technically Andor but everyone basically forgets that/

Early book: people are just people everywhere (hopeful). Mid book: People are just people everywhere (ominous).

Now it’s Mats turn to resume breaking down.

Rand and May are probably in the “danger of becoming unhealthily codependent” zone. But what are ya going to do?

Oof. Mats not even convinced they’ll get to Caemlyn

We really missed out on so much uh… sadness and sleeping in haystacks in the show. I’m not actually complaining, like a couple things would’ve been nice to see and I don’t mind reading this but it’s. It’s just pitiful. And long.

Like… this is two homeless teenagers hitchhiking through the States being wronged by adults at every other turn “bad times”

Rand trying to scratch his back having woken up sleeping in a hay stack- “It was while he had one hand down the back of his neck and the other tied up behind him that he became aware of the people.” That is horrifying.

I’m really starting to think the being watched stuff does in fact be settings some stuff up.

Luckily it’s outside on the road, not like around the haystack looking at them. Which I’d assumed by this point

Yea dragon watchers.

‘Haha yes that is why we go to Caemlyn. To see the.. the dragon.’

Ah we’ve reached the travelers are a nuisance part of the country

Everyone sucks!

Rand almost just lost an eye to a carriage drivers whip

Ah Karens

At least the guards do not care

Oh boy is there! At least there will be, not exclusively of course

Tingling again. The tingling is rarely good

Innkeeper- Raimun Holdwin

Almun Bunt, man in cart who noticed Holdwins of conversation too

Oh great. The old enemy, doing evil boringly. Spreading lies, placing bounties, etc.

Like a fox in the henhouse.

Elaida, some Aes Sedai advisor(?) to the Queen in Caemlyn

Yes the tradition, which sounds old is not a problem until right now when things start going badly. And like I’m for questioning tradition. But dude, really, you just don’t get or like Ses Sedai. We got it. Thnx for the ride, plz shut up

Wait… are these people important? So Queen(?) Morgase, Elaida Sedai, Lady Elayne -pretty sure I’ve heard of her uh elsewhere-, Lord Gawyn (familiar), the not Prince Luc (dead), Princess(?) Tigraine (vanished when she was supposed to take the throne). Taringail Damodred, husband of the last queen (?), but not Prince Consort(?) (dead).

Cairhein is the nation that the Aiel don’t like. Now.

Lol. No thought at all that maybe she can channel this Lady Elayne.

“The heron-marked sword lay on the table between them [Rand and Tam]…” -Rand’s dream.

“The queen is wed to the land, but the Dragon… the Dragon is one with the land, and the land is one with the Dragon.” -Rand’s dream, being told to him by juggling unconcerned dream!Thom

Then he sees a Fade with Moiraine and Lan’s heads hanging from its saddle and Mat, Perrin, and Egwene bound and being forced to follow it. “Not her!” -Rand. The Fade burns Egwene. Thom repeats: “The Dragon is one with the land, and the land is one with the Dragon.”

Then he seems to wake, but a raven tells him “You are mine.” And stabs him in the eye with its beak.

Bunt you are a strange man.

Ch 35

Rand POV

‘Yay a city! Ahhh a city, a massive bustling city!’

Caemlyn was built by Ogier? Neat!

How are you going to hide in a massive crowd of people? I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough. But it’s a roll of the dice at first

Rand sees it!

‘Caemlyn the city of dreams!’

Interesting that the main road in entering the city is indeed wide. Wonder if roads will get narrower further in?

“What they did not see, they could ignore; what they did not see was not really there.” -teotw (Rand) on the people in Caemlyn who appear to ignore the lack of spring this year so far.

Narrower side street! Still enough for a cart and more

Dude you’re asking this now? Isn’t ignorance bliss at this point? You’ve already take them this time if they are thieves it’s a bit late

See back to the old adage ‘I don’t know and I suppose I don’t want to; plz stay away from me. I have a family’

So the boys are sharing brain cells and immune system cells

Ya I doubt he’s gonna do that. Good advice tho

Did… Thom didn’t say anything about red and black Ajah outside Rand’s fever dream did he?

“Rand grabbed Mat’s collar in a fist that he was trying hard to keep from trembling. He needed Mat.” -after Mat (again) starts to doubt everything and express his hopelessness. (Wtf am I supposed to do with that I? /wearing shipping goggles/)

Who will win? The cursed anxious optimist or the cursed depressed pessimist? Both are very paranoid, traumatized, and stubborn but in many -but not all- opposite ways

“Please don’t let us be alone.” -Rand’s thoughts

Ok. “Queen’s men” is a phrase that keeps being used and I think it implies something bigger about the world or something. Idk what tho… civil war brewing maybe?

Tbh I’ve been wondering where the sex workers were. Like… they gotta exist still here right? I’m sry but they must

Relics of Logain? Really? The guy can not have been active more than, what? A year or two? No. That’s nothing; ignore that, I’m confident they at least know this and otherwise they don’t have money

Well Rand knew.

Plz just avoid the cursed Whitecloaks

Dude just do that yourself. You have the means, I’m sure, to cover the mark somehow. He’s gonna do that eventually isn’t he?

…Almost immediately did that.

So what does the red mean? And the white? Sure it means something… wait

Probably Mat. Probably

Mm yup. That tracks. Have to get the tension right and whatever

Dude. I’ve got news. They’ll always going to be more people in the cities.

The pattern ‘oh thank fuck he figured out to cover the mark. Finally! Now he can go to the inn’

Found- The Queen’s Blessing. Inkeeper Basal Gill (fat, thankfully)

Just believing Thoms dead now. Well… suppose that does track regrettable

“I’ll believe he’s dead when I see a corpse.” -Gill when informed of Thom’s death.

Lol Gill ‘it Aes Sedai bs isn’t it? Always is with Thom and young men.’ (There’s no good way to say that so there. Do whatever you like with that I guess)

Lol. Sure no channelers here Gill. None at all. /s

Dude giving them shit beds and shit food is a miracle at this point free or not. Now what do you want?

Finally. Someone whose like ‘Aes Sedai? Sure they suck but they are not the most pressing problem by far’

Huh. The state supports the Aes Sedai here. Interesting. Makes sense but interesting how many common people don’t -tho also makes sense.

Wtf did Thom do to upset the literal Queen?

Thom? Thom was famous across the lands? That guy?

He did mention the courtyard thing but not, like in the royal palace, I don’t think

Damn Thom. Really probably *knew* and then pissed off a queen and an Aes Sedai. Respect the loyalty to family tho

Ha! They remember (I quickly learn Gill agrees)

[disgruntledspacedad]

in defense of Din’s subdued reaction to losing the kid...

gif by @quantam-widow

I know we were all thinking it. We got a 2 second reaction shot to the destruction of the Razor Crest (may she forever rest in peace), but then, Grogu gets taken, and... nothing?

What the fuck, Din? we all protest. That’s your baby on that ship! Don’t you care? Scream, curse, kick a rock, cry, make a fist, something!!

I will acknowledge that so far, the show has been excellent with giving us emotional payoff, am I right? I mean, just today we got Din laughing, twice. Twice in a row. I honestly never thought we’d see that. There have been so many excellent, precious soft!Din moments this season, and they all feel deliciously earned.

So, from a meta POV, I guess I’m saying that I have faith in the writers to get it right, and in Pedro to deliver. Duh.

In universe, though, I think it’s fair to point out the obvious - that Din is a pretty reserved guy. He’s much more of a thinker than a feeler. He’s used to keeping things bottled up, and I would even argue that his life often depends on his ability to dissociate from his emotions. Din’s entire journey so far has been about how one little baby yodito shakes his worldview to its very foundations. He’s getting there, but it’s a slow process. 

And also, consider this - we haven’t seen Din alone yet, not since Grogu was taken. For a guy who lives a guarded life literally encased in fucking armor, any display of emotion is going to be carefully protected until he’s in private.

But anyway, Din is detached, rational, a little emotionally constipated, and definitely comfortable in a stressful situation. A true ISTP if you ask me (yeah, I know you didn’t, but whatever). Often, it seems that these cool headed, logical types who have never ruffled a feather over anything in their lives are the least adept at handling genuine fear. In other words, when panic does strike, it strikes them hard. 

And guys, Din was definitely panicking during this episode. 

He’s clearly unsettled from the jump - that outburst of “dank farrik!” in the cockpit sells it, and his distress only becomes more obvious from there. Talking out loud, trying to convince himself that the best thing for Grogu is for him to be trained as a Jedi. Reminding himself of the creed. His overt caution as they approach the seeing stone. His impatience, “Are you seeing anything??”

Then there’s the effects of long term stress. Sure, a bounty hunter in the outer rim doesn’t exactly live an easy life, but Din is definitely used to the drama being on his terms. Compare Din’s body language in the opening scene of season one to when Boba confronts him in chapter fourteen. You can just feel the anxiety, the weariness, the frustration. Din has been on the run for months now, constantly looking over his shoulder, sleeping with one eye open. Notice how he even startles at Fennec’s voice? Season one Din would never have given that much away, regardless of the situation. Long term stress has clearly taken a toll on him.

So we have unsettled, stressed out Din in an emotionally charged situation. He’s exhausted, he’s scared, he’s desperate. This scenario is a recipe for even the most level-headed of adrenaline junkies to loose their cool, and that’s exactly what happens to Din. He panics, and he makes some pretty big fuckups because of it. Leaving Grogu unprotected, twice. Trying three different times to break through that “force field,” even when he knew he couldn’t. Dropping that jetpack and then just forgetting about it (I know we were all screaming about that one, or at least, I was).

So, fear is a positive feedback loop. Those neurotransmitters that do us good in a bad situation - raising heart rate, narrowing focus, shunting blood to the muscles - can also be detrimental if we get too high of a dose - tachypnea and tachycardia, inability to think critically and see the big picture, lack of blood and oxygen to the brain. Epinephrine, in particular, even inhibits the laying down of new memory pathways. In other words, stress leads to poor performance, and poor performance leads to more stress, which leads to... you get the idea.

Then, in the middle of all this chaos, they fucking blast the Razor Crest.

More epinephrine, more cortisol, more stress. 

By the end of it all, Din is a fucking shitstorm of stress hormones and pent up emotions. Notice how he seems to be on autopilot in the immediate aftermath, robotically scanning the ashes of the Crest for anything that might be left intact. Notice how empty his voice is when he says, “the child is gone.” This is a dead man walking. Din has nothing left. His whole life has just gone up in smoke, and he can do nothing about it. 

Guys, Din is holding onto his sanity by a fucking thread in this scene. “The child is gone,” he says, like he’s reminding himself, grounding himself in his shitty reality. He’s stunned. 

And helpless. There’s literally nothing he can do for Grogu. He has no ship, no credits, no resources, nothing to bargain with, nothing to offer. Din literally cannot allow himself the luxury of feelings right now. He’s just got to focus on surviving this very shitty day.

Then, Boba Fett upholds his end of the deal, and suddenly, Din has something to hold onto. An ally, a badass friend, some hope. I don’t think Boba shows Din that chain code in order to verify his claim on the armor - he’s already wearing it, for godssake. I think Boba shows him the code in order to catch Din’s attention - hey friend, I know you’re hurting, but I’m a man of my word. When I make a vow, I keep it. Let’s regroup and go find your kid.

And Din would totally latch onto that. A fighting chance? Din fucking leaps at it. There’s a job to do. A kid to save. All of those stress hormones are going to keep on stewing, because Din has never really come down from his adrenaline high. 

It’s like this in real life, too. There isn’t time to be afraid. There isn’t time to be sad, or second-guess, or say, oh how terrible, or wonder what if it doesn’t work? There’s just you and the job, and if you are the only thing standing between life and death, you will put everything else aside and do what you have to do, for as long as you have to do it.

And that’s where Din is at this moment. He’s running on the fumes of his adrenaline, all tempered focus, all strategy and no bullshit.

Emotional shock, my therapist buddy calls it. Apparently, it’s normal. Expected, even.

But guys, the fallout of this kind of crazy ass adrenaline high is insanely intense. I’m talking collapse to the floor, legs won't hold you, trembling, crying so hard you sling snot, shuddering breaths, stare dead-eyed and spent at the ceiling because you’re just too wiped out to even sleep kind of intense. 

And then, after the breakdown comes the angst. The detailed thinking. The oh god, what if this had happened, or, should I have done that instead? It seems like every emotion that gets put on the back burner in the moment comes back to bite you with twofold intensity when all is said and done. 

In other words, Din is definitely going to feels some things .A lot of very intense things. A reckoning is coming, my dudes. Trust me. It’s just not quite here yet.

That being said, here’s what I can expect from Din going forward:

Just like he’s is slow to acknowledge his growing parental feelings for Grogu, I think Din’s going to be slow at processing his grief at Grogu’s loss. In the next episode, he’s got plenty to distract him - getting together his hit team to take back the kid and coordinating an attack on the empire. 

However, I do think we’ll get a slow moment with Din, probably sometime at the beginning of next week’s episode if the pattern holds. I doubt it’s the full-blown breakdown that we’re all needing, but I’m willing to bet money that we’ll see Din grappling with the fact that his kid is gone. I also think that badass beskar murder machine Din from chapter three will resurface. Stress and desperation make us do irrational things, and anger is one of the stages of grief that Din will inevitably have to work through (I think he’s flickering between denial and bargaining for now).

But then, after Din gets Grogu back? I think that’s we’ll have our big, dearly earned emotional payoff. 

For one thing, Din won’t be able to deny his feelings anymore. He wants to keep this kid, it’s so very obvious. Losing him just forces it all to the forefront. 

And then the relief/joy/regret/guilt that Din is going to feel once he’s got Grogu back? Not to mention the physical exhaustion? All of the fear/terror/angst/grief that he ignored in favor of just going pedal to the metal, guns blazing, get the kid or die trying? That shit’s going to crash into him with all the subtly of a fucking tsunami. I guarantee you, we’re going to get some sort of confession, or adoption vow, or face revel, or other sort of profound softness from Dad!Din in the falling action of this season (At least, I hope we get it at the end this season but I wouldn’t put it past them to kick it into the premier of season three, just for pacing reasons, but then again, I obviously have trust issues).

Personally, I would love to see Din grappling with the long-term fallout of losing Grogu - night terrors, guilt, paranoia, etc. That’s probably the stuff of fanfiction - mandalorians don't have nightmares on screen, surely - but still, some lingering effects Grogu’s kidnapping would be realistic, and I would absolutely live for it.

[yandere-society]

The Ultimatum

Synopsis: Valentine’s Day has rolled around once again, and just like last year, you plan on spending it with none other than your emotional support dog. What you don’t know, however, is that you have an unexpected visitor awaiting for you at home.. and not only does he have a loaded gun on his hip, but he also has your beloved pet in his lap.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 6,000

Admin: @tatertotthethot​

Valentine’s Day Event Masterlist

Trigger warnings: yandere-themes, signs/mentioning of mental disorders such as: anxiety, depression, PTSD and dissociation; Mentions of gang violence; Depictions of gore; nonconsentual kissing (nothing sexual); no dogs were harmed in the making of this…

“Here you go, guys.” You said as you handed the couple across the counter their drinks. You returned their smiles and bid them a good day, but as soon as they turned away and linked their fingers together on the way out, your expression settled into one of disdain.

Baley, your manager, noticed it. But like always, she chose to ignore it. She’s very much use to your secretive, albeit bitter distaste towards romance. She’s been working along side you for two years now, and knows that you’re a big advocate for holiday decorations. You’ve decked the place out on Halloween, thanksgiving, Christmas— even fucking Saint Patrick’s day. But for Valentine’s Day, all you did was slap some heart shaped stickers on the window and didn’t even look too happy to be doing that, either. But she’s never been one to push.

“Guess what I’m doing this evening,” She hinted, hanging the ‘closed’ sign on the door.

“Hm?” You asked, having zoned out while rinsing your shot glasses out.

“I’m gonna eat the rest of my edibles and read some alien erotica.”

Not expecting anything less from her, given her personality, you only choked out a laugh and shook your head. It’d be more amusing if you knew she wasn’t kidding. Baley has a weird obsession with aliens and you never took her serious about it until you bought her a tentacle dildo as a gag-gift on her birthday, and instead of laughing about it and going off into a banter like you were anticipating, she started screaming and jumping up and down like you just handed her the last Golden Ticket to the fucking chocolate factory.

“What about your boyfriend?” You asked, forcing yourself to engage in conversation to keep you from spiraling.

“He’s out of town. So I’ll be thinking of him as I read about the alien king abducting me and using my tenta-holes—“

“Never mind.” You cut her off, trying to let that lighten up the mood. You appreciated the effort, but it didn’t work. You just wanted today to be over.

It’d be a whole lot better if only you could tell her the truth and come clean about your past. But it’s not like she’d believe you, even if you had the guts. But in all honesty, her fantasy about alien abduction was more believable.

You’re a barista making $10 an hour, living paycheck to paycheck and inhabiting the house your grandmother left you in her will. You have no car, you rely on public transportation; all your clothes are from goodwill and when you’re not working at this shop, you spending your life in confinement of those walls with your dog, as a recluse.

If you even dared to tell Baley that, just three years ago, you were living in a million-dollar mansion in South Korea, and had a luxurious wardrobe from big-name designers and that you didn’t even own a pair of fucking socks that were under $100.. she’d look at you as if you were the alien. She wouldn’t entertain the bigger half of the story, about how you were engaged to a man who’s now serving a life sentence and could possibly be put on death row for committing a robbery that left one of the international banking systems short 23-million won— which would amount to be approximately 20 million dollars in America... you would’ve lost her at the word Fiancé.

It’d be easy to prove, though. Your associations to the crime may not show up in your background check, being as you’re back here in America and was never detained, and the news isn’t relevant enough to circulate here. However, a simple google search would reveal it all, even with pictures of you two in public.

But not even you wanted to look up his name to know what was going on with his case. You were still ambient to forget about him, in a way. You wanted to ignore his existence. You fucking loath that man.. you swear, you do.

You had fallen back into a brooding silence again without even meaning to, and although you were busily cleaning up off muscle memory, you were detached. He still has that effect on you. And truth be known, the first year you spent in lonesome isolation after leaving Korea was just a change of scenery but not very different from the lifestyle he had subjected you to. But even still, it was so much better than living with him at the estate. And now, with your dog Sweetpea there, you feel safe again. At least you were in the same place you grew up, and felt closer to your grandmother—

Fuck, you missed her so much. He wouldn’t even let you visit her in person before she past. The man owned his own private jet and it never had any maintenance problems until the one fucking night you needed to go back home. You only got to speak with her on the phone, and bawled your fucking eyes out and spewed out an incoherent apology just hours before her heart gave out. That’s when she told you that she left you the house, and how sorry she was for kicking you out of it because you didn’t pursue the career field she wanted you to go for.

If only they would’ve arrested Taehyung a month prior, you could’ve been there for her. You could’ve hugged her and the two of you could given each other the apology you both deserved.

“Hey..” Baley’s voice suddenly came to your left ear, the only one that you could actually hear out of. Your right one, despite being 80% deaf even with a functioning hear aid, was faintly ringing from the emotional tangent you had accidentally drifted into.

You looked over at her, and broke down. Although she could never fully understand, she still gave you an empathetic frown and was pulling you into a hug before you could sputter out an apology— not that there was any use for one.

You had secrets that still haunted you, and will always impair your daily life— much like your botched eardrum and this shitty device you spent way too much money on. That’s another thing you only had Kim Taehyung to thank for, along with your fucked up shoulder.

You had to carefully elevate your arms but eventually returned the hug and cried a little harder, not able to help it. Sweetpea was a great reciprocate for affection and did a swell job with distracting you, but as far as human comfort goes, you haven’t had so much as that in.. well, seven fucking years. Tae was always big on affection, and also comforted you when you needed it. But it was redundant and didn’t have a sincere effect, being as he was the very one that initially caused the hurt it derived from.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, I never do... but I want you to know that I can see how strong you are. You’re doing a great job at making it through each day...” she muttered, rubbing your back as it shook with each silent sob. You felt bad when you heard her own voice beginning to thicken, but that was no surprise. She was a sympathizer and a little bit emo in general. Seeing others cry was enough to jerk a tear out of her, and you loved that about her. She’s a weirdo, but she’s pure, and she’s very good hearted. You could even say that you may have deeper feelings for her as well, and they may even be mutual, but you were no good for her. Hell, you were already putting her in enough danger just by being an employee at her shop. If you were to let your relationship stem past being friendly coworkers, or even hung out with her outside of work, that could pose an actual threat to her safety.

So, even though you wanted to lengthen the embrace, and longed to tighten your arms around her even more, you pulled back and wiped at your face, giving her a weak grin and a nod instead.

She squeezed your shoulders one last time before taking a step back, recollecting herself.

“You go home. I got everything else.”

You sheepishly nodded again, thanking her one last time before collecting your things and booking it out of there. Had you not felt so broken and defeated in that moment, you would’ve refused. But her show of affection triggered a deep, dire need to give and be given more comfort.

Fortunately for you, though, you had a special someone for that. Your dog is the only living creature on this planet that can be trusted with the revelations of your past. She’s the only reliance you have for receiving unconditional love and support without any judgment... probably because she doesn’t even understand what the fuck you’re saying half the time, nor can she repeat the shit you say, but as far as comfort goes, it’s always a guarantee.

— That’s just in her nature, like most pets. Pitbulls, however, are very sensitive and attentive to certain emotions— especially depression and anxiety. They’re just as good with protecting their owners, as well as they are with babysitting them. Everyone knows pitbulls have a notorious and misguided reputation for being aggressive. But little do most know, before dog fighting became a popular thing and defamed their personalities, pitbulls were primarily referred to as ‘Nanny dogs’. They’re great with babies in general, and very domestic and charismatic by nature. But despite being big, loveable goof balls themselves, they can literally sense stressful emotions and will know what type action to take in order to sedate them.

Sweetpea may not have professional training and certification but it is by her true nature and personality that you call her an Emotional Support Dog. When you’re having another one of your episodes— panic attacks, senseless paranoia, nightmares— she’s running to your aid and doing anything she can to distract and get you to play with her. When you’re depressed and spiraling into another breakdown, she licking at your face and sitting in your lap, not even seeing the problem with her being three times bigger than the average lap dog—

“Kneehemplamaforseeking?”

You sucked in a breath and blinked over at the PetsMart employee, smiling a few away from you. You probably looked lost, and in a way you quite literally were. You hardly remember walking in the direction of this store, let alone entering it. But this a common thing for you, so you easily just went on about your way despite the sudden worry of missing your bus... again.

“I’m sorry, what’d you say?” You had asked, turning your good ear towards her and watching her lips move.

“Do you need help looking for something?” She repeated, carefully annunciating her words this time, now that she could see the device in your ear. In today’s age, most people mistake it as a bluetooth— which has unknowingly saved you from accidentally talking to yourself in public, more than you would know.

You shook your head in response to the lady, and checked the time on your phone. You had 30 minutes left, thank God.

“No thanks. I’m just here to get some treats and waste some time before my bus comes. It’s windy as hell outside.”

“Ah, it certainly is,” she agreed, making her way to the next aisle. “Be safe out there!”

“I’ll try.” You muttered to yourself, grabbing a bag of bacon strips off the shelf— the very thing you had ultimately came for. It should’ve taken you no more than 5 minutes to grab and go. But it wasn’t uncommon for you to take much longer and aimlessly wonder down multiple aisles only to get one or two things from the same aisle, though. You do it at every store you go to, if you can stand to be outside of your home or away from work.

After checking out, you made it a mission to stay present until your bus came. By the time you got home, you were more stable.. up until the bus driver— a sweet elderly man who’s been transporting you on this route for last couple of years, handed you a rose on your way down the stairs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, young lady.”

You had the strength to give him a genuine smile, but as soon as you stepped off and the doors closed, and the bus engine picked back up and left you with a gust of wind, you broke again.

Taehyung always gave you a bouquet of blood red roses for Valentine’s Day. He knew you were a sucker for them. And you still are, but sentiment wasn’t the only emotion to come now. They brought on an ache. A pain. A worry. A twinge of longing, but a fuckton of resentment.

You wanted to throw it on the ground and stomp at it.. better yet, you wanted to set it on fire and watch it burn while smoking a much needed cigarette. But first, you need to see your dog. You know she’s just as anxious to see you.

You trudged up to your door and was quick to unlock it... but frowned when you didn’t see her on the other side. Maybe it was because your ears were ringing again from how worked up you’d just gotten. But usually, the mere sound of your key twisting at the lock would have her running to the and practically beating it down, and you’d opened to see her gleefully wining out and wagging her tail.

But she wasn’t there.

“Sweetpea?” You called out, making it a point to swing the door shut behind you. Still, nothing—

Whimpering. You heard her whimpering and your head snapped over to the hallway. Your heart began to race. Your bed door was open, as always, and you could hear her in there but she wasn’t coming out. Only whimpering for you to come to her.

Fearing the worst, thinking perhaps she’d hurt herself to the extent that she couldn’t move, you barged down the hallway and listened with a sickening sense of uneasiness as her whimpering turned to muffled howls.

“Sweetpea, wha—“

You screamed. Sheer horror and white-hot adrenaline erupted through your veins and scorched your nerve endings, leaving you numb in the limb to the impact of the floor beneath your kneecaps. All you could feel was the volcanic eruption of despair in your chest and the strain in your diaphragm.

Sweetpea was okay, but very much in danger. She had a muzzle on, and her big, canopy-like ears were peeled back and her big, doughy eyes were wildly beading dead at you as she struggled and pawed at the carpet, watching you fall to you fall out. She was so worried to get to you but she couldn’t, do to the death grip of the man who was holding her by a leash. She couldn’t even interpret the lethality of the weapon that was also aimed at the back of her head— a glock you specially recall being the weapon of choice when Taehyung pistol whipped a man’s head open before emptying all twelve rounds in his magazine into his face.

Now, all you could envision was the same being done to that sweet face and big, bulbous head.

You screamed out and wailed even louder, not even looking at the intruder or registering who it was. Because you already fucking knew and in your mind it was too late.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He roared, making you and Sweetpea flinch. You stopped screaming but your breath was ragged beyond your control. Your vision was bouncing between his fierce scowl and Sweetpea’s fearsome one. You dove forward, intending to crawl and beg but two pairs of shoes stepped out from where they’d been standing behind the door, and their hands gripped you by the biceps before hauling you up to your feet. You didn’t even try to resist them. You knew better than that. But fear still had you discombobulated and speaking out to yourself, feeling incredibly dizzy and disarrayed.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

“You’re not dreaming.” Taehyung snarled, palm itching to slap some sense into you. But even within the three years he’s spent in bitterness, it didn’t change the morality he did have in relations to you. He’d never hit you out of anger.

But then he realized the real reason why you were saying that, when your knees suddenly gave out and the hold his men had on you became the only thing keeping you up right as you fainted out. He didn’t realize you still had that problem, and it hurt him to see that now.

Back when he had you in his possession, you had accidentally witnessed an execution down in the basement of his mansion. It was the first time you fainted, a d your body came toppling down a good ten-or-so steps, which were made of cement, and you were lucky to have only broken your nose and dislocated your shoulder.

Guilt crashed over him, suddenly. He meant to terrorize you in a way that wasted little time to gain submission, but he didn’t mean to trigger your PTSD— although he knew it was likely. Given the resolve, he put the gun back in its holster and stood up, beckoning for Yoongi to take the leash. Jungkook easily held you up by the waste and waited to pass you off to your fiancé before bringing your wrists behind your back. You slowly came to as he did so, and your head lolled back up only for your entire body to snap back into attention all at once, now that you were face to face with the Devil himself.

“Come on, you fucking idiot!”

Your head snapped over and you began to panic again as Yoongi fought with your, trying to drag her over to her cage by the leash. She was putting up one hell of a fight and audibly wheezing from the choke, her eyes now bulging as she looked at you.

You bucked against the both of them, your maternal instincts causing you to go feral as you saw red.

“QUIT! YOU’RE FUCKING CHOKING HER, YOU FUCKING PRICK! PICK HER UP!”

“She’s too squirmy!” He shouted back, the shock of your outburst causing him to lose tension and Sweetpea lunged the both of them forward. Tae was shouting at Jungkook to hurry with the restraints and squeezing you tighter, but you were kicking and flailing like a fish out of water now.

“MAKE HIM STOP!” You cried out, but was forcefully silenced by the gigantic hand that grabbled around the entire bottom half of your face— including your nose. Having been in this situation before, knowing his antics, you knew he wasn’t going to let you breathe again until you did as told. So you were forced to settle down but was still desperately pleading with your eyes, crying as your dog continued to heave against the menstruations.

“Yoongi, for fuck sake, the dog is 50 pounds. Just pick her up and put your in the kennel.” Tae stressed, eyes still locked with yours.

With a grunt, Yoongi tackled your dog and trapped her in a bear hug, snatching her up off the ground. You wanted to scream at him again but you were actually starting to struggle for oxygen, chest jolting with an involuntary attempts to inhale.

“Alright, they’re on. I just gotta link them.”

Tae’s hand finally dropped and you hacked out, swallowing as much air as you could. Now that Sweetpea was safely in her cage, you had time to worry about your own safety, but the look on his face wasn’t giving off such a merciful vibe.

“You do whatever you want to me. I don’t care. I won’t fight back... but if you hurt my dog—“

“If I hurt your fucking dog, it’ll just be tough shit for you. I’ll still do whatever the hell I want and unless you need me to prove that, I suggest you stop with ultimatums..” he chuckled, but it sounded so cold and twisted. He was on the verge of snapping, and was fighting to keep as much composure as he could right now, for your sake.

But he was on a heist right now, you readied yourself for the unknown when he punctuated his sentence by grappling your throat with the same, vandalized and accessorized hand he just smothered you with— fingers digging in at the sides. Your breathing was once again constricted and your eyes reddened in strain, your voice dying out.

Tae may not beat you, but he knows your worse fear is dying by suffocation. Hence, why he’s so big in breath play.

“Can you?” He reiterated, snarling his teeth at you and revealing the top and bottom pair of golden, fang-shaped plates framing his pearly white canine teeth. Back in the day, you found them so extravagant and tasteful, but now you found them all the more threatening.

He waited until your eyes began fluttered back before letting go again, and Jungkook’s body was the only thing that saved you from falling back. You never understood why, but for some reason, Jungkook was the only person Tae allowed to be in closer range of you, even when it wasn’t necessary. He even reminded you of that when Yoongi had stepped a little too close and Taehyung shot a glare over to him that had him taking a couple steps back. But Jungkook was apparently free to stand there, holding you up even as you regained your footing. You feared that one day it will all make sense, but for now, you were thankful that he was there to at least to save you from collapsing.

It’d be great if they weren’t even fucking here, at all.

“Go put the kennel in the car— not on the seats, though. Hobi will kill me if I fuck up the interior.”

“Please let me rehouse her.” You begged, cringing as his eyes returned to you. They looked even more colorless than before. “I’ll come with you, but I don’t want her there with us.”

“She’s fine. As long as she doesn’t shit and piss everywhere and doesn’t chew any of my shit, or try to attack me, I’ll let you keep her.”

“You were just holding a fucking gun to her head, Taehyung. Please let me rehouse her. My friend Baley will take her. All I gotta do is leave her in the cafe with a note— I have the keys. I’ll even let you write the fucking note yourself and we can go...” It was significantly getting harder to speak, now that your airways were irritated and your unsteady emotions were only making it worse.

You had already accepted your fate, but had a twinge of hope left that he’d at least hear you out on that request. His features had softened into a crestfallen display of guilt, and remorse. But your faith in him shattered all over again when he stubbornly shook his head and reached for the gun again. You were just about to throw another fit until he pulled the magazine out and showed it to you.

It was empty, until he pocketed it and pulled out a fully-loaded one and clipped it into place, before putting it back in the holster.

He tricked you, and although it was still pretty fucking evil, you were relieved. He never intended to shoot her and wouldn’t have been able to, even if his finger applied enough pressure on the trigger. But you were still very much in the midst of an abduction, and you still hated this man for what he was doing to you now.

“Why are here?” You croaked.

“To come get you and our new pet,” he announced, faking the enthusiasm before reinforcing his glare. “I’m... incredibly pissed about the fact that abandoned me.. but even more so offended by the negligence to stay updated.”

His eyes then caught the flash of a blue light at your ear. Your hearing aid was dying and faintly peeping in your ear. The remembrance had his entire demeanor shift to a sullen one, like a switch.

“But at the same time—“ his voice had fallen into a lower pitch, almost to the point of being a whisper as he stepped closer and easily molded his hands around your face. You suddenly felt fragile, but not in a way that made you giddy, like it use to. Now, you had to swallow down the bile in your throat and fight against the nausea as his suddenly lips came near.

“—It’s really hard take that out on you, when I can’t even blame you for it. But It’s been three fucking years, honey. Three. How could you not even have enough concern for my well being, to not even send a fucking post card? Did you really think you‘d never see me again, and that you had snuck away from me? I knew what you were doing, and where you were going before you even boarded your fucking flight.”

“You’re suppose to be in jail. I thought you were letting me go.”

“First of all, you didn’t even know the original plan to think that it had failed. All my charges have been dropped and the suspicion of my involvement dismissed. Namjoon has been found guilty and is now serving that sentence, like I had initially plotted from the beginning. You never knew shit to fucking assume anything!”

You glared at him despite the jolt that came with his drastic notch in volume, and not your tongue as he went on.

“But I did allow you to leave the country, but only to give you space and to let you touch base with... whatever the fuck it is that you still find valuable here. I didn’t think I’d have to clarify the circumstances of your stay, but for you to not even reach out.. and the fact you got some shitty, minimum wage job on top of it all, when you still have access to the saving account I’ve put in your name.. You really thought we were over? You haven’t even checked the news articles to see any updates on the case. I’ve been out for a week!”

He was still holding your face but his hands were shaking and the pressure was increasing again. He always pulls back and regains control over his temper before inflicting harm, but it’d be foolish to not expect him to one day lose that control. He’s hurt you on ‘accident’ before. He’s slaughtered many people, more than you’ll ever know to keep count. Nothing is sacred.

But now, you are a lot more contempt and able to tolerate the fear of him hurting you on impulse, being as Sweetpea was out of harms way and no longer in the room. You were still shaking though and had closed your eyes, bracing for it. But the jerk of shock only came when his suddenly lips covered your’s, and Jungkook finally backed away.

The kiss only lasted about three solid seconds before he pulled back, and was heavily panting through his nose. You dared to look up and caught a glimpse of the physical pain marring his features. His eyes had gone watery and his jaw began ticking like a time bomb, nostrils flaring and chest rising. He pressed his forehead against your’s and snaked his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck, trying to fight off his own sobs and choking on them more and more with each second.

“You hate me.. you haven’t even missed me.” His voice was so thickened by his emotions that it deepened the natural richness he already had, making it sound contorted and almost inhuman. A tear dropped down his nose bridge and hit your quivering lips, and for the life of you, you couldn’t fight back the heart wrenching burn it inflicted on you.

How could you still feel anything for this man? It can’t be. It just fucking can’t be..

But it was. You were so bewildered and petrified by the oncoming sympathy that it stunned you into a froze state of shock. He kissed you again, thinking it was a show of fear for own safety— and he was right to interpret the fear, but it was with different cause. He was steadily conjuring up feelings that you wished you could’ve watched burn, like you had intended to do with the rose your bus driver gave you. But here you were, heart bleeding for him.

You still didn’t reciprocate the kiss but it brought on more involuntary anguish.. you cried harder and so did he, and as he leaned your head back to kiss at your neck, you stared in perplexing awe at the gigantic bouquet of roses sitting on your nightstand.

“It’s okay. I‘ve missed you too fucking much to punish you now.” He calmed, and took a good 30 seconds to regain his composure. There was still a groggy undertone in his next words, but once again, he was back in his domineering mindset. “But I ain’t cutting you that much slack.”

You yelped when he suddenly shoved you back, straight into Jungkook for the nth time. He heatedly wiped at his eyes and stepped back, and it was the first time you took in how much more muscular and rigid he’d become over the years.

Before, he was a lot more slender and you’re certain that the very shirt he’s wearing now use to be at least 2 sizes too big on him before.. however, the black silk was skin-tight and clinging to the humps of his biceps, and straining around the buttons between his pectorals. His skin was more pale than ever before but now you could see a tattoo curving along his temple, arcing aside the edge of his pierced brow. The word that was written in elegant, cursive writing made your heart palpitate and your stomach twist even more.

Honey. That was your signature endearment. That was the name you’d given him in place of your real one the very night he met you, and asked for it.

This crazy motherfucker really is obsessed with you. How he can lie to you, deceive you, punish you and drive you fucking bonkers and stalk you down only in the act of what he calls love.. and for it to actually be a form of true—albeit dangerous love, was beyond you.

The scripture on his handsome, albeit matured face distracted you for a few seconds. You snapped out of it when Jungkook suddenly hauled you up by the midsection and slammed you down on the bed, pinning his hand down between your shoulder blades and rendering you defenseless.

“What are you doing? Taehyung! Please! Get him off of me!”

“If I could trust you to stay still, I would.” His voice was neutral again, despite a offhanded sniff. You struggled to look back, but it was no use as he was standing out of view.

“Stay still for what?”

“Do you still have your ring?” He asked instead, ignoring you.

“It’s in my nightstand drawer. Now tell me—“

“Told you she kept it,” Jungkook finally spoke— and just like it was back then, it was a very rare occurrence for when he did speak on your behalf. That’s another thing nobody else dared to do, unless asked. But knowing that he was the one stalking you for Taehyung made you all the more disturbed with him.

“Fucking creep. You’re hurting me!” you screamed at him, and he had the audacity to increase pressure. Tae said nothing, nor did he stop his friend from retaliating.

“I also know about your little affair with your coworker. Since when did you start swinging both ways?”

“What are you talking about?” You growled, and he only snorted in response.

“She knows you like her. She knows you stare at her ass every time she bends over and that you bend over on purpose to make her look at yours. She knows you like it when she slaps it.”

You, one again, went unmoving.

Jeon Jungkook is her fucking boyfriend.

“What does Jk even stand for?”

“Jackson. But he doesn’t like to be called Jackie, and you know how I am about nicknames. So I call him JK.”

“Don’t you fucking hurt her, Jungkook. You leave her alone. Tae, don’t you let him—“

“Don’t you worry about me.”

“BALEY?!”

Baley walked into view, an unreadable expression on her face. The mere realization of what was happening finally over filled your mental tolerance and you brain suddenly launched you away from reality.

The beach. You were at the beach with your cousins, all of you a little over the age of 18. You were on spring break your senior year in highschool and talking about the future. Graduation. Prom. College~

“She’s zoned out.” Baley said, and Jungkook finally let go. You were indeed paralyzed and had completely dissociated, talking to yourself. Taehyung, with a fully-loaded syringe in his hand, leaned over to look at your face. Your pupils were dilated, eyes stargazing in general, lips softly moving as you babbled nonsense. He hated knowing that it was coming to this, but he swore he’d earn your forgiveness.

“I’m gonna get your ear fixed.. or at least get you a better device. We’re gonna be okay. We’re so fucking rich now, I don’t even know what to do with all our money— only to turn it into more. I won’t have to work as much. We can get married, have the best fucking honey moon we can imagine. We can get started on a family. I’ll win your dog over, too. I promise.”

He sank the needle into your bicep, and you didn’t even flinch. Only blinked in rhythm as a tear fell.

“I’m gonna be a forensic scientist, like Mawmaw wants me to be.” You incoherently muttered, having said that to your friend, Jessica, on the beach.

It was insensitive, but he couldn’t help but crack a grin at that. Whatever memory you were reliving at the moment, was quite sometime before you actually began your classes for such profession. He bent down and kissed your cheek one last time as he injected the entirety sedation serum into your system and pulled it out. But you were oblivious to it all.

“I think I’m smart enough...”

”You’re very book smart, baby. But you’re probably gonna drop out after three semesters and become a bar tender at a strip club, because you’re not fit to be a homicidal investigator. You’re too soft.”

“I’m not..”

“You sure?”

“I’m gonna be a forensic scientist, like Mawmaw wants me to be.”

“Well, you’re gonna become my wife before you become anything else.”

“Ew, don’t even play like that. You’re my cousin.”

“Jeez..” Baley muttered. “You really have driven her a little bat-shit, huh? This is way more disturbing than I anticipated—“

“Babe, lets go sit in the car. Come on,” Jungkook hurried, pulling her out of the room.

Taehyung continued to whisper sweet nothings into your deafened ear, but the last night you heard before it all went blank was the perfect, bittersweet saying that bidded you goodbye for the night.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Honey.”

[glumpiglet]

Close Encounters of the Beej Kind (F!ReaderxBeetlejuice)

Uh hi everyone.. K This started as a request but then i took another look at it.. And it didn’t even do what was asked and I was like … i might just post this as a fic.. So here we are! Many apologies to that person, hopefully this could be a bit of a compensation and it WILL be answered I promise!

To anyone asking for a pt 2 to my ghost s/o I definitely have more to do with that one…we got a WEDDING TO PLAN MY DUDES….. Eventually..i'm trying to get these requests done (which are Always Open ;) ) and I want to do a second date to my Dew fic. I’m very a stop and go writer, I like to try and keep these to a 3-4k length...sometimes that can take me 2 days… sometimes 2 weeks. Lol you know the struggle. hope you enjoy this one. Stay lovely out there hotties.

Warning: Beej is a voyeuristic, thieving little trash boi and there’s some swearing… That’s all.

It started out an average day when you officially met Beetlejuice.

Moving into a new place alone was always so much work. The organizing, the packing, the stress. It would be ultimately worth it, you realized. This would be the first time you lived alone, no roommates, no family. You were a real, genuine adult now.

Laughable, you thought, as you shoveled the spoonful of cereal into your mouth before returning to your controller. There might still be unpacked boxes around you, but sometimes video games were just higher on the priorities list.

The whole ordeal was almost over with. What was left was pictures to hang up, you bought a bookshelf that needed to be built… Nothing crazy. Lucky enough there wasn’t too much of a headache. 

That came surprisingly after the move-in. 

It wasn’t something you voiced out loud, but you were sure the place was haunted.Believing in ghosts was a difficult subject for you. Having had… Things happen to you when you were a child, whispers of your name in the basement where your mom would do laundry. You had an argument once on New Years at a friends house because you were certain you were hearing someone in the house. 

Ghosts were like Religion or Big Foot to you: Not a firm believer but definitely had some ‘need more answers’ kind of person. The human mind was a confusing piece of machinery. It came up with all sorts of insanity.

Still, a list was started to be compiled of odd occurrences in the short time of living here. 

One day, you had been binging a couple Buzzfeed Unsolved episodes ironically enough when you should have sworn you could hear low-pitched laughing in your living room. Not from an adjacent apartment. Like it came from right beside you on the sofa. Pausing the video you listened for any more sounds. Complete silence greeted you and couldn’t tell what would have been creepier: if you had heard the laughing again or the quiet. Deciding to not finish the episode, you turned the t.v off and sat there in the quiet room for a long time 

There was an odd smell in your apartment. You didn’t notice it when viewing the place but every morning you woke up to a pungent, musky odor that almost made you think your neighbours were smoking weed or living in garbage. The smell came and went throughout the day, sometimes wafting over you so unexpectedly you swivel your head to see what was behind you. Nothing was ever there.

Things were disappearing. At first you thought it just got lost in the mix of moving. Some cheap jewelry. Old photos. A hairbrush. It wasn’t until your clothes just started disappearing that you became troubled. 

As you were for sure your panty drawer was being raided, you couldn’t figure out what the fuck was going on. You checked the dryer to see if you accidentally left any behind, you were a forgetful thing. It wasn’t impossible that your underwear had simply.. Disappeared. You tried to chalk the whole thing up to paranoia. You had been celebrating with the new apartment and was drinking a bit more than usual. 

Blame the alcohol. Blame yourself. Anything to not think about the possibility of an actual haunting.  

Not until a hot autumn night did you get any actual proof.

Sleeping nude has always been a thing for you. Your parents would scold you as a child for walking around naked. Leaving your windows wide open as you changed. They basically had to force you into pajamas. You didn’t want to be a nudist or anything, there was just something constricting about wearing clothes to bed. Pants were unbearable, anything with long sleeves suffocated you and god forbid if you ever wore socks. Even in Winters. 

Living alone meant you slept nude nightly, even had the insight to splurge on some silk sheets finally, it was literally the best sensation you had ever felt. It was still unbearably warm in September and you had not been wearing much clothing since you moved in. You were saving up money for an A/C unit but it would probably be snowing by then. Slipping between the cool covers, you sighed as you drifted as you usually did, that space between sleep and dreams where your brain was beginning to shut off….

In a split second, the desire to open your eyes overtook you. Hovering above you was a large, dark figure. Clear as day. No mistaking it for something else. 

Struck still with terror, the intruder didn’t see your wide, open eyes apparently, leaning down over your vulnerable body. In your restlessness, the sheets had been kicked off, leaving way too much exposed skin. Looking horrified, your skin began to break out in goosebumps, perking your nipples. The air to scream wasn’t finding you.

You heard a sound. Growling, like a dog. Vulgar, nasty sniffing noises were blowing from the beast, like the bellow of a forge. This was a nightmare, you clamped your eyes shut. If only you could pinch yourself… Striving to find the will to move your arms, fingers. Anything.

The shadow spoke. It was like gravel hitting the pavement. Striking and rough. 

“MMmm.. So sexy...”

That was it. His voice snapped something in you and you felt yourself come alive. Jumping up in bed, you had screamed in panic, stumbling to your light to reveal an empty room. 

In the terrified state that found you, pacing, in your robe, in your kitchen. Waay to wired now to return to bed. You had decided that night it was a dream, a type of sleep paralysis. No way in hell did your new apartment have a poltergeist.. Some demon?! No fucking way.

The idea of buying something: smudge the house, a ouija board, had crossed your mind. Before you realized what a terrible idea that was. If this was real, you weren’t communicating with it. 

You weren’t thinking about it. Not at all.  

Fate was funny, however. Destiny or kismet, whatever you want to call it. With every weird occurrence, it never occured to you that slowly but surely it was getting worse. 

Not one week after the whole night terror debacle, did you catch someone in your bedroom.

As you said, average day. Meaning you stayed out in the living room, trying to find the energy to be productive beyond sitting on the couch, playing. Glancing at the clock intermittently, watching as the morning shifted into afternoon. You sighed and put the controller down, compromising with yourself. 

Okay, get the boxes out of the closet. Put the shelve up and unpack three boxes then you could return. Sounded fair. 

Walking into the room, reaching the closet, you leaned your head in to find the boxes, and heard a bump. Thinking the sound was just coming from something you hit in the closet, you continued reaching further in… Clothes shuffling made you pause. Turning towards the sound of an impulse, you gasped aloud as you took notice of a man opening your dresser drawer.

“Holy Fucking Shit!”

The first thought in your mind was he was a burglar. Afterwards, you had to chuckle at the idea, he was definitely not dressed for a B&E; terror made funny things make sense.

Grabbing the first thing in your reach, the contents of your vanity. You began hurling them at the now stunned creature, hands up on his chest, eyes wide in surprise.  

“Get out, Get out!” Practically shrieking in the small bedroom, you backed up to the wall, trying to find the courage to escape. In your hysteria, you failed to notice something.

The items were flying right through him.

Adrenaline pounding through your body, making your head throb. He wasn’t doing anything, just standing there, confusing you through the panic.faintly you looked down and saw what he had in his grip. One of your shirts. 

You had broken out in a cold sweat. Feeling like you were going to be sick. 

“I’m serious guy, I’m gonna call the cops!” The booming voice you tried was being to sound more wilted, your heart was about to burst from your chest. Tentatively stepping a few more steps towards the door, brandishing the thing in your hand like a weapon, no matter it was just a mascara bottle. 

“Uh-....yo-...” He continued to blunder through a breath, like a match striking against sandpaper.

You didn’t notice him pocketing your clothing. You dropped the thing in your hand.

The voice... That deep, dark rasp. You had heard it before. In your living room… In your bedroom.

Great timing, you couldn’t catch your breath. Gasping for air you slid to the floor, clutching at the ground for some balance.

This was not happening. This couldn’t be happening.

Every ration, logical, scientific part of your brain screamed for solid facts. The Afterlife wasn't proven real. Death was unknown. This wasn’t a movie and he wasn’t Casper. This was NOT a ghost. This was a human being, totally alive, uninvited in your home. 

Watching with sight blurred around the edges, he was approaching you slowly. Clenching your eyes shut, you cowered in on yourself as you waited for the attack.. This was it, this was how it ended.. You could see the headlines now.

‘Local Girl Found Dead: No Witnesses. No Suspects.’

Family would never know what actually happened to you. Search for answers until they found this creature and the vicious cycle would continue. 

The stench got infinitely worse as he approached, and your eyes began to water with more than fear. 

“Hey, hey.. Breathe, breather.” 

His voice was calm… Forced but calm and you didn’t take the bait. He was just playing with his prey and soon would sink his fangs in.

“You can actually see me?” 

His voice was incredulous. A happy tone that made you look up, he was doing something odd. Not acting frightening in the least, not attacking. He was talking to himself. Angled away from you as he gave himself a pep-talk..What?

“Okay calm down… Play it cool….” 

His eyes met yours. He rearranged his features to appear to be.. Smoldering.. He looked to be trying for suave.   

“Heyyy.”

Not what you expected. In any other circumstance, you would have laughed. The air wasn’t found to make the sound. Instead you choke on your tongue. “..I-...Wh-”

That was all you could get out. It seemed his speechlessness had traveled through the room and now possessed you.  

There was a knock on your door. It was the sound that brought you back to reality. The normalcy of a knock meant you had to interact with a human. You raced towards the door, ready to cry out in panic.

Retching it open, your breath caught in your throat.

It was your attractive neighbor. You had talked to them a total of three times including the time the landlord introduced you. In your hyper aware state, you couldn’t even reach in your mind for their name.

“..Hi.” You said breathless, wondering how much of a mess you looked. Attempting to discreetly pat your hair down, the neighbor explained their hearing you screaming, wanting to make sure you were okay. 

On the tip of your tongue was ‘No, actually. There seems to be a poltergeist in my bedroom. Do you have the number of any good priests?’ But what came out of your mouth was surprisingly calm and normal. You were so sorry, you were playing and sometimes could get a little loud and competitive, you’ll try and keep it down.  

Feeling the back of your head prickle, it seemed now you had obtained the power to tell whenever it’s eyes were on you. Great. 

Seeing the ghost peeking from around the corner, not subtle at all in the ordinary background of your apartment, his contrite countenance almost making you smile. The words left your mouth before you could catch them.

“..Can you not see him?”

Your neighbours' confused silence answered. You took a deep breath, savouring this human interaction. Alrighty then. 

“Gotcha! Sorry, I get spooky around this time of year.” It wasn’t even October, six weeks until Halloween, but it seemed to do the trick. 

Sharing a laugh with the neighbor, you expressed your desire for them to enjoy their weekend, and bid them goodbye, promising to be quiet. Hoping they didn’t notice how fast you closed the door.

You turned back around to regard the ghost.

It.. Certainly didn’t look how you imagined it. 

He looked worse.. Dirty and disheveled in a striped suit, you tried to picture how he might have died and carefully watched as he shuffled forward. Wide, yellow ambers glittered at you.

“Listen.. I know we didn’t get off on the right foot, but… You can see me.”

“Yes.” You had to clear your throat, the voice that came out of you was dry and cracked.

“Stop saying that, please. Why can I see you?” He stepped closer to you, head tilting and you had the space to break free into your living room, walking backwards as he stalked you.

“Beats me, sweetheart. Breathers are usually so self centered they never notice the dead.” You plopped down on the sofa, processing that bit of information. So it was all real. Ghosts were among us. Unbelievable. 

He began to fiddle with the cuffs of his jacket, you almost wanted to ask him to sit down, the nervous energy you felt from him not helping with yours. What do you offer to a ghost for comfort? Smooth as always you blurted out the first thing.  

“So… You’ve been haunting me. You were-”

Sudden, potent anger flushed over your skin. It came together. Your underwear. That night. This pervert!

“Have you been watching me sleep?!” You felt yourself screech before trying to lower your voice, remember the promise to the neighbor. Shooting up from your seat, the ghost floundered under your glare, eyes flickering towards the ground, refusing to look at you.

Lowering your voice to a dangerous whisper, the anger was making you brave. You began to advance on this deviant spectre. Realizing you had the daily source of your misfortune in front of you fueling your fire. 

He had been around the whole time, through your daily routine like… He was your boyfriend or something. As uncomfortable as that was, maybe he couldn’t help that, but you drew the line at theft.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?! I don’t care, ghostly apparition or not, that’s just rude! Stealing my clothes?! What do you have to say?” 

“Woah-woah.. I-I’m sorry! I just… You’re so…Hey!”

Continuing your pursuit despite his stuttered protests, you found yourself standing up close. The closeness was pungent, but it was becoming kind of bearable as the minutes passed on… Up close he was.. 

Strangely handsome, your brain chimed in for you. Not the fucking time!

Arms crossed tight, you glowered at him. Unexplained, you waited for his answer. Obviously he wasn’t going to hurt you. This stupid, smelly, handsome ghost had had plenty of opportunity, you thought sourly. 

“Look, this really isn’t going the way I wanted it to. You’re the most interesting breather in this hellhole……. I’ve been stuck here for so long, but if-if you want.. I’ll stay away...”

Deciding to proceed with the first bit of what he said: going the way he wanted? You watched as he began to slump away. He was muttering to himself again.

“Probably go down and haunt Mrs. O’Reilly in 2B. Heard she got a new pacemaker...That could be fun”

Viewing the sad spectre slink away, the rage was strangely dissipating. Maybe it was the down tilted head, the kicked puppy expression, the idea of this dude with poor little Mrs.O’Reilly. Something made you call out. 

“Wait.”

He perked up almost comically, twirling back towards you, having to bite your lip to keep from smirking. Maybe this ghost wasn’t so bad, he was certainly interesting. Entertaining. Handsome. Shut up brain. Didn’t mean you forgave him yet. He was giving you every piece of clothing back. 

“Did I tell you to go away?”

“Yeah.. Earlier..” His fingers twitched together and now taking notice of how open and earnest his expression was, it was making you smile. Right, when you were freaking out. Could you be blamed? Now it seemed implausible you were ever scared of him.

“Okay, well that was then, this is now. Let’s start over, I’m (Y/N).” On reflex you held your arm out, and kept it there before you thought better of it. Why you were attempting to shake hands with a ghost was beyond you, but as this was of course the weirdest thing to ever happen, what else could be done that didn’t make sense? 

He, with rapt attention, reached forward and you watched in astonishment as his hand drifted slowly through yours. The sensation was an icy buzz shooting up your arm, tingling through your neck into your brain, even your scalp felt the jolt. You felt like you just been electrocuted. 

Both of you shivered at the contact. The air was filled with a growl and once again you were transported back to you in bed and him above you. For the first time.. You felt yourself throb in pleasure at the memory rather than fright. This was slowly becoming dangerous, you could feel it. 

“Ooo… That’s different.” 

Studying him as he glowed green, he began to lewdly run his hands down his chest...Down his thighs.. Your eyes snapped away, suddenly very interested in your own hand..Certainly different.

“I like it.”

“So…. Have you been here the whole time?” You asked, desperate to change the subject in a strangled voice, turning away so he couldn’t see your burning face. This was dangerous. Impossible. Not healthy. Deciding to let this ghost stick around perhaps wasn’t the best instinct.  

“I’m not sure you’re gonna like the answer to that, babes.”

Revolving around to ask him what he meant, you paused at him... Flushing pink. Definitely not. 

[dxrksong]

Shattered Glass old mirror chapter 2!

Warnings: uhhh trauma basically and time distortion

Enjoy!

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

You woke up, not immediately recognizing where you were. Slowly the memories came back to you as you got up. 

Waking up in the mirror, being found by the Jims, convincing them to take you with them, the giant dog, Wilford, Dark, the mirror……

You sighed and looked at your hand. It still hurt from yesterday. You unwrapped the bandage a little and saw that the bleeding had stopped at least. 

To unwrap it and pretend it's just a part of the collection or keep it and not potentially get an infection…….they wouldn't notice right? 

You rewrapped the bandage as someone knocked on your door

"MirrorJim! Time for breakfast!"

Oh, the Jims! You smiled, going to answer the door

"Thanks Jim! Let's go!"

The three of you started walking down the hallway

"Hey MirrorJim, is your hand ok?"

Oh of course

"Oh that? Just some battle scars! I got into a fist fight with a mirror!"

"What did the Mirror do Jim?"

"It called me names and insulted my friends. It held no honor"

"Didya win?"

"Of course! No mirror can hold it's ground against me!!!"

The Jims looked at you in awe, CameraJim going to point his camera at you

"And here we have the infamous Mirror fighter! Tell us MirrorJim, what was it like?!"

You stood up straighter, a confident smirk on your face 

"Quick and painful on both sides! But nothing i couldn't handle!" 

You laughed at the Jim's faces as all three of you walked into the kitchen and sat down. 

At the table the host, Bim, Google, and Dr.Iplier were already there. In the kitchen  Chefiplier and yet another Googleplier were working on breakfast. 

As you and the others waited, idle chatter came up.

"So how's your first night here, Y/N?"

"You know it actually went pretty well! I didn't even have a nightmare!"

"Heh, you sure? Your hand says otherwise."

"Oh, right. Speaking of which, Doc, think you can…?"

Dr.Iplier sighed as he playfully rolled his eyes, reaching out for your hand. You gave it to him and he looked over the damage.

"What happened"

CameraJim piped up

"They fought against a mirror and won!"

"A MIRROR? *sighs* well it's not the craziest thing I've seen before. Just try not to make things any worse and you'll be fine"

The Doctor rewrapped the bandage before letting you have your hand back

"Thanks doc!"

At that moment Dark walked into the room, more or less being dragged by Wilford as they sat down. You haven't spoken to dark since last night. This is bound to get awkward. 

Luckily for you food started leaving the kitchen as soon as the rest of the Iplier egos showed up. Things were relatively calm as you soon forgot the tension between you and dark, joining in on the pleasant conversation.

And then everything started spiraling downhill from there. 

You heard the sound of a car driving up to the manor as you finished your breakfast. Curious, you walked up to the window. 

Only to curse yourself internally. 

It was Mark. Like the Actor. Actor Mark! He's probably here for you! 

You're Dumb, not stupid. You know this probably isn't your body, the scratches on your hands and that memory from last night is enough proof of that. But if the others are aware that you're not them, this could be your end. 

It would be your end if Mark got to you as well. You're not about to let yourself get caught in one of those forever looping adventures of his. 

Think Y/N where's the safest place to be if you're spotted by the mad man himself or not? That would probably be with his rival….

And you're in a weird situation with said rival. 

You winced, not noticing Dark had walked over to see what you were staring at until he spoke up

"What the hell is HE doing here?" 

You nearly lept out of your skin! You sighed, trying to calm down from the mini heartattack.

"I don't know. But you're going to find out anyway aren't you?"

Dark nodded before walking off. 

Dang it you forgot their rivalry was the fighting kind. Guess you're sticking with someone else then. 

"Wonder where he's going? Y/N! Want to follow him?"

Hello replacement Damien! You turned to Wilford 

"Sure! We can be the sneakiest ninjas of all time! Jims! Wanna join us?"

"OOO! Good idea!! We gotta get our first sneaking mission all on video!!"

"Camera's already rolling MirrorJim!"

What can go wrong?

---------

Everything. Everything could go wrong. 

First of all, this group is neither sneaky nor…..ugh dang it what's the word??? You're obvious, is what I'm trying to say! You're 1000% sure Dark has known since the second hallway that you were all following him. 

It wasn't long before Dark found Mark roaming the halls. The confrontation started off rocky and with a lot of anger on Dark's side. Mark was nothing if not cool with a touch of nervousness. 

A facade, you're sure. You watched the confrontation with growing anxiety. This could end in an all out brawl. 

And then a glint off of something caught your eye

"Mark……"

Wilford had taken out his gun, your body freezing in place. Shit, you forgot. Mark and the Colonel didn't exactly get along well either!.......

WHY CAN'T YOU MOVE??

you can't-oh no…..panic attack...like back at the mirror. Seriously. An episode?? HERE???? Worst possible place for this!! You're 15ft away from a mad man and 3 feet away from the gun that shot you! 

You were starting to panic, your anxiety and paranoia skyrocketing through the roof. And then you heard it

"Y/N? Y/N!"

"Don't you DARE-ACK!"

Mark shoved Dark away before heading over to you. Next thing you knew, you heard a gunshot and you were running down the hall. 

This is too much…..too much all too soon. You couldn't hear anything but your own breathing as you ran through twists and turns of the manor. Where where you going? Who were you trying to go to? You don't know anymore! The only people who you knew was safe were back there with that guy! 

You soon slowed to a stop, tired as all hell. You panted for breath as you stopped to look around. 

Is it…..snowing? Wait, you've seen this before. The final episode of wkm! Before the Colonel found out Abe was hired to spy on him! 

Did you do this? 

""Did you do this?" Y/N asked themselves as the host drew near, the red Google Android at his side"

"Host? Google?"

"The host figured Y/N would like a quiet place to relax and have their questions answered. Follow me"

The host continued to mumble to himself as you caught up to the two of them. You decided to ask the obvious of what's happening here

"What is this?"

"It's an area spell I assume. It slows down time to an extent that even I'm not sure of"

"How come you're not effected? Did you do this?"

The host laughed

"Afraid not. If I could do this I would've used this ability a long time ago. And to answer your first question, I can only assume it's because you consider us friendly"

"Wait me? I'm really the one doing this??"

"If you weren't then I'd question who would be."

You nodded slowly. Made sense. You all stopped at the Host's office

"The Host is going to go defuse the situation and calm down the ruffians. The Googleplier will assist you with any questions you have."

You nodded and watched the host leave before looking up to the bot, who walked inside the office. You followed behind and found a couch. You sighed, putting your face in your hands as you sat down

You felt the bot sit down nearby and you took in a breath before sitting up

"Ok Google"

You heard a beep

"Quiz me on common knowledge"

"Ok"

--------

The gun had fired, Wilford standing on his two feet now. Mark had quickly dodged out of the way and went to try and hide when the Jims started screaming

"WHERE DID MIRRORJIM GO?!"

"MIRRORJIM DISAPPEARED!!!!"

Dark: "WHAT?!"

Dark immediately grabbed Mark by the neck, lifting him up in the air

Dark: "WHAT DID YOU DO YOU SLIMEY-"

Host: "Mark did not do anything."

The Host walked into the room

Wilford: "Host….I should've known"

The host nodded towards Wil

Host: "Y/N had ran away at the sound of the firing gun. They are currently at my office, being caught up with current events"

Mark wrangled himself free from Dark's grip

Mark: "that's great! I'll go keep them-"

Host: "The Host suggests you do not corner Y/N less you want to meet a very gruesome death"

The host warned. Mark gave the Host a very disbelieving and confused look as Dark and Wil raised an eyebrow

Mark: "Y/N? The harmless Y/N that couldn't harm a FLY? Are you SURE you're not losing it Host?"

The host chuckled to himself

Host: "you shall see in time. They are not the same Y/N you once knew a century ago."

The host started walking away.

Host: oh also the dog's are fighting. 

That got the ego's attention as they immediately ran outside. 

Host: "The host chuckled to himself, knowing full well Diva was no where near Chica"

----------

You sighed. Nothing much had changed in accordance to most things in your past life. But when you asked about certain artists, you found that several important ones or even special songs were just flat out gone as if they didn't exist. 

If that wasn't bad enough you realized that that means you're the only one that knows these songs and it's up to you to not forget them. Yaayyyyyy more stress. 

You ran your hands through your hair. You suppose you'll be fine. You could be fine. You WILL be fine. You could get used to this just like everything else you've dissociated from. 

"Your body language suggests distress"

"Yeah, well. I'm under a lot of it…...can I tell you something if you promise not to tell Dark or Wil?"

The Google raised an eyebrow

"Noted?"

You sighed again, leaning into the couch

Pt1

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter Three : Section Three: JJ’s Secret

Chapter One l Chapter Two l Chapter Three

Unmedicated, unwell, and feeling unwanted, Dapper is beginning to lose his grip on his powers a little, lost in old memories and old desires. When Red can’t talk him down from his distress, Dapper ends up using a talent he’s kept secret even from Anti for years, and Red finds himself in a world more wonderful than he ever let himself imagine.

Trigger warnings for psychosis, panic and distress, and vomit.

Section Three of Chapter Three: JJ’s Secret

Anonymous asked: Red, who cares. This is survival, right? You wanna get back to Anti you gotta make some risky moves to keep each other safe. Be your own person, Red. I know you’ve got an identity crisis right now but you’ve got to do what you need to.

“This was about the disguises earlier, I think,” mumbles Red, trying to sort through everything. “I got distracted… you’re right, I just - I just - I feel like if I start changing big things… It’s like admitting we won’t be home soon.”

His face is heavy with the stress of it. “Right? You know? Cause if Anti comes and gets us today, tomorrow, next couple days, well, then there’s no point in me dyeing my hair or anything like that. In fact, it would be better not to, because he might be angry I changed myself and his puppy. It’s just - I’m not - I don’t think I can admit - ”

He runs his hand over his face, shaking, tears welling up once more.

“Fuck,” he says, with vehemence, with grief. “I don’t know what I’m clinging to if Anti’s not coming to get us in the next couple days. I don’t know what to do. I have no fucking idea what I’m going to do. Why won’t he come get us? Is he really… he’s really not coming soon, is he? I’m really alone. Oh, fuck.”

Anonymous asked: You really enjoy being anti's personal baby, don't you Red? Look, I can tell, you've never felt safe with him. Don't you remember what you said on the rich side of the mountain with Blue. No, not blue Marvin. Don't you remember your anger? Your pain? Being chained to the floor, shocked, and cut, and bruised? Do you really, /really/ believe that that's love? Do you believe that being forced to slap and hit your brothers is 'family'? You're deaf to these words. You're deaf to your brothers pain.

“Fuck,” whispers Red, closing his eyes. “Please, please… you think I don’t know that I’m a monster?”

He grits his teeth hard and puts his fists in his hair, trying to breathe.

“I - I - I know Anti hurts me, but it’s because I’m bad - and I know I’ve hurt the others but I have to protect them - and I know that makes me a monster but fuck, fuck! I don’t know how to live without him, just - just leave me alone!”

He’s loud enough to make the figure in the bed beside him flinch and Red whirls, startled.

“Oh, oh, Dap, you’re awake again, thank God…”

spicydanhowell asked: this might seem trivial, but please don't give dap cigarettes. it'll make him feel nice for a few minutes, and he'll probably be relieved, but smoking exacerbates psychotic symptoms. his paranoia could get worse, And people with psychotic disorders usually find smoking more pleasurable and have a lot of trouble quitting. CBD oil would be much more effective, or benadryl if you need to get him calm quickly

“Shit,” curses Red, staring. “I didn’t see this earlier, I - fuck, well… geez, Dap, you feeling okay? What the hell, man? Please don’t ever do that to me again.”

“No, wait, I - I’m not on medication,” Dapper protests, staring at the message. “Cigarettes make medication less effective, but they can decrease psychotic symptoms. They - ”

“They said it only feels like it relieves them.”

“No, but this isn’t true for my disorder, I know, I’ve read. The dopaminergic pathway - ”

“Dap, you know I can’t read when you spell that fast!”

Dapper turns his mouth sorrowfully down and lies limp against his pillows, staring at the camera. Red sighs deeply and reaches out - timid, timid - to touch the small of his back.

“They sound like they know what’s up. Are you sure about the cigarettes? One hundred percent? It’s been a really long time since you’ve self-medicated. I think.”

Dapper shakes his head slowly. “I guess not…”

“Plus we don’t want you getting addicted. You know Anti doesn’t like cigarettes.”

A nod, slow.

“So if we’re not sure, better not to risk it. Big brother will handle it. I’ll find you… something else. I don’t know. Probably I could find benadryl. How does that sound?”

Dapper doesn’t answer, staring at the wall.

“Buddy? Are you with me? Or - are you having another episode?”

“With you,” signs Dapper dully.

“Well, if you could answer me when I talked to you, that could fucking help.”

“Nobody is listening to me,” answers Dapper slowly. “Nobody is even looking at me. I don’t even think I’m saying anything. Please leave me alone.”

Red draws back, a frown on his face.

And then, a moment later, disappointment, as he realizes his first instinct had been to grab Dapper by the hair and yank him out of bed and force him to talk.

He slinks away from his brother’s bedside and sits down against the wall again, silent.

Anonymous asked: You're not the monster Red. The monster is the one who made you believe all this abuse is normal. The one who made you believe you had to hit and beat the ones you love. The 'monster' is Anti.

Red stares at the floor.

“Maybe I’m more Anti than myself by now.”

He pushes his fingers through his hair, eyes shut.

“We… neither of us can take much more of this, can we?”

He doesn’t turn to see if Dapper answers. His little brother is hiding his face in his pillow, weak from coming out of the catatonia. No, he can’t take much more of this. He doesn’t think he can take any more of this, in fact. He doesn’t know who he is or where he is or why there’s a ghost where Jackie used to be. He needs it to stop.

“We can’t take much more of this,” whispers Red, and, too busy hiding his face in his knees and trying to keep his mind away from nightmares and self-hatred, he doesn’t bother to wonder why the room has begun to smell of dust and blood and petrichor.

scunneredzombie asked: Red, can you please hear Dapper out..? Let him say what he knows, he would probably know what's best for himself. He's right you know, cigarettes reduce negative symptoms of psychosis! Such as catatonia and excess anxiety. Just because he's younger doesn't mean he doesn't know anything.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s more complex than that. I’m not… smart,” he grumbles, turning away from you, flushed pink. “I don’t think he wants to talk right now anyway, look.”

He turns to you slightly. Dapper is pressing his clock to his forehead, closing his eyes. Red figures he’s trying to fall back to sleep. He wishes he had something to cling to like that. He thinks he used to have… things? He can’t remember. Even just a clean hoodie. He would kill for a clean hoodie. But his black one smells like garbage. He rubs his hands up and down his arms instead and thinks about Blue.

His smiling face. The way he always runs around looking after everybody. The wisping light on his hands. The color of his eyes. The sound of his dumb, snorting laugh. Waking up and knowing he’s okay. Waking up to see him breathe. Waking up and he’s still beside him. Oh, too still beside him. His terrified face. His heaving chest. Pupils as dots with terror. Blood on his arm. The forest on fire. The forest being devoured.

Red? Ro? I think Anti’s going to kill me. Don’t leave me alone. Ro? Please.

“No,” groans Red, clutching at his hair. “I’m sorry…”

Dapper ignores him. He needs to focus. He’s going to make this stop. He’s a little confused, sure, but… he can still do this, right? He coughs softly. He can fix this. He wants… he wants the real Jackie… a smile blooms across his face as you watch. Red blinks as the smell gets stronger.

bupine asked: what's that smell, red? is it magic?

“I do know that smell, but it’s… bad? Where do I know it from? It means I messed up, it - ”

Red’s eyes widen.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Did Anti fond you guys?!

“No, no.” Red leaps to his feet. “No, Dapper’s trying to use magic in the middle of an episode. Dapper’s having a snap.”

Anonymous asked: There’s no way he found you, Red. He’s with Trick and Blue. For the sake of keeping up his stupid “little brother seamus” lie it’d be stupid for him to come after you two. That can’t be him...right? Red is someone there?

“I wish it was Anti,” cries Red, racing across the room. He reaches down to touch Dapper, and then -

Teeth bared, Dapper snaps at him, shaking his head violently, his eyes glowing silver. Red falls back, alarmed, remembering, all too vividly, the feeling of being trapped underneath Dapper as they fought, the feeling of Carver’s eyes boring into him and his fists coming down again and again, with the sound of Anti’s laughter laid over the top of all of it.

“Dapper,” croaks Red, hands held out. “Please don’t hurt me, it’s me. Please, I know I haven’t always been the best to you - ”

“I know what you did, Anti!” Dapper’s hands scream. The smell on the air is so strong Red feels his nose begin to bleed. “I know what you did! Give me my brothers back! You killed them! You killed J-joy! I’m going back, I want to see him again! I want to go back, I - I can’t remember where…”

“You can’t time travel when you’re this confused,” cries Red. “You could lose yourself or me in the timestream, you could make something happen - ”

Dapper buries his face in his pillows, shaking his head furiously. “You’re not J-joy! You’re a ghost! I want to go home! I don’t know what’s real! I don’t want to lose my mind!”

Anonymous asked: Jameson, I don’t think you can bring back that much of the past. It’s better to face what’s in front of you. Why don’t you try to work with him? I know it’s a little irritating but he’s really loosing himself. It might be fruitless if he continues to ignore and belittle you, but being petty about it won’t fix it either. Just try to talk to him, communicate is key after all :)

“Mean Red,” pants Dapper, forcing himself to sit up, his eyes wild. “Mean to me. Yanks me. Yells at me. Takes me back to Anti. Slaps my head. No one is listening. No one is here. No one can see me. I’m dead already, can you see my hands moving? Go back, go back, go back. I remember - bits and pieces? Bits and pieces, my hair in bits and pieces on the floor, he chops me up, snap, I am the Carver, I am not the Carver, I am a ghost too and I can’t? Don’t - don’t want to lose my mind?”

“Dapper,” pleads Red. “Dapper.”

Anonymous asked: Red, whatever you do, don't freak out. Dapper is turning back time, he's going to hurt himself. Talk to him. Don't snatch the watch away, that'll make things worse. Get him to put it away himself. Try to level with him.

“Dapper,” calls Red, trying, at your behest, to make his voice softer. “Dapper, my little brother!”

Oh, fuck, what would Blue do?

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay, sweetie, we’re going to make it all okay. Look here at brother, come on. Big brother’s going to look after you.”

“Look after me,” snarls Dapper, managing to focus on him. “You can’t even hear me. You think I don’t know you’ve been afraid of me ever since I beat the hell out of you next to that gas station?”

Red’s face flushes with heat. He hears his heart pounding in his head.

“Newsflash, puppy,” he snarls, hurt and shame and guilt making painful cocktails in his stomach. “I was afraid of you long before that. We all are! You could get any of us in trouble just by turning back time and telling Anti we fucked up! The smell of your magic is just the smell of Anti about to beat the shit out of me! You’re the one who has his ear! You act like a baby to keep yourself safe and you fuck over the rest of us every goddamn day! It’s no wonder Anti never gave you a twin! Twins have to love each other!”

Dapper screams with air alone and leaps to his feet, clutching his clock so hard the hands inside tremble. Red scrambles away, throwing himself into the corner, terrified.

“Dapper, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, you could kill us both - ”

cest-mellow asked: dapper what are you planning, buddy?

“Go back to my house, you remember? I do not remember, remember only pieces? Pine trees like towers, birds all singing, my room has nice soft bedsheets and nobody calls me puppy! Can we go home now? Where’s Jackie gone, home? We can go, I can see it, I am not a time traveler, I am a timestream traveler, Anti never bothers to see what his Dapper can do, do you remember - Jameson? I should like to see him again, his face in the mirror, turquoise hair, my finger bleeds.”

Anonymous asked: Jameson stop. You're just going to hurt yourself. Sometimes the damage is done and you can't take it away. Magic is not a fix-all. Jackie is still there, he's just buried under a lot of trauma, same as you. As awful as it is, you both need to adapt to each other WITH each other and push forward.

“He’s still there?” Dapper reaches out his hands, reaching for Red’s face, and Red groans and tries to stand still. “Does he see me at all?”

“I can see you, I can see you,” babbles Red, letting his little brother set his hands gently on his shoulders. Dapper’s eyes wander wildly. He is seeing far more than Red can see. “I see you, I can see what you’re signing. I’m right here, I’m right here. Everything’s cool! I can be J-joy if you want, I can, I can be a good boy, I know you’re Anti’s favorite so I can listen to you instead. Yeah?”

“Anti’s favorite?” says Dapper, his face falling. “Anti’s… why… but… no, I don’t want to be…”

cest-mellow asked: jameson are you even capable of going back so far? i’m all for screwing anti over but this could be dangerous

“No, he could hurt himself!” shouts Red. “That’s not how his power works! Dap, please, that’s never been how it works. You’ll die.”

“What would you know about it?” asks Dapper frailly, pulling his trembling hands away. “What would I know about it? I’ve forgotten so much, but he can never take all of it, he can never take all of it, not from me, Jameson is in time and time is in him so how do you strip all that away?”

Anonymous asked: Dapper? Did you do something? You can talk to us, you know that right?

“I know you’re scared but you can talk to me, you can talk to me,” pants Red, his pupils minute with stress. “You can tell me everything, I’m listening, I swear. I know you’re confused.”

“So confused,” laments Dapper, turning around and around, blinking. “So confused… you promised you’d get me my medicine…”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

scunneredzombie asked: Jameson, try to think rationally for us? You know your powers don't work well when you feel confused like this. I agree with you. You are not Carver, you aren't Dapper. But Jackie is still stuck as Red. You need to help him find himself, Jameson. Don't change back time to something you can barely remember, so much could go wrong. Your brother is here. You brother is still here beside you. Help him bring Jackie back to life.

“Stuck,” whisper Dapper’s hands, reaching out for him again. “Stuck… my poor big brother. He always protected me. Who made him cruel and so sad? I will go back and change it�� Jackie, don’t be afraid of me, I’m sorry if I did bad things to you…”

Anonymous asked: Red for once just drop the hierarchy and just be a brother. Just listen to each other instead of trying to figure out who follows who. It doesn’t matter anymore. You keep /each other/ safe, not just you keeping James safe.

“Okay, okay, okay,” wheezes Red, reaching out himself this time to take Dapper’s sleeves. “No hierarchy. No Anti. Just us, right? Here I am. Dapper. J - Jameson?”

Dapper’s face lights up for a moment, awe and love shining in his face.

Red… Red’s never seen that look in his eyes before. Not directed at him. Not genuine. Not unforced. For a moment it stops him short.

Or… has he seen it before? A long time ago?

“Jameson,” he repeats, very softly.

scunneredzombie asked: Red, stop. Stop talking about Anti to him. Anti doesn't matter right now. The dumb top of the pack system doesn't matter right now. All that matters is that your brother is in danger. Everything will be okay, but you have to calm down and stop spewing meaningless talk about Anti. Be his brother right now, for lord's sake. He's this upset because he thinks you're dead. He /loves/ you and he thinks J-happy is dead within you. He needs comfort, he needs his brother, not Anti.

“Were we…”

Red pauses, touching his head.

“Were we friends? I don’t… I don’t remember. I think I used to love you.”

Warm water trickles from the shining silver eyes.

“I still love you,” signs Dapper dazedly, stepping closer to Red’s chest. “I still do when I can think a little more clearly. When I can see the northern lights… look, the shine of it… do you remember?”

Does he? Does he?

Warm hands washing blood from his own. A smaller body tucked in against his chest. Sleeping against him. Tucked up together in a cold little cell. Just the two of them.

spicydanhowell asked: can you spell his name for him jamie? then he'll know what you're calling him when you say j-happy. it's really good that you're calming down okay? it's gonna be okay

Dapper is shaking very hard against his brother’s chest.

“J-A-C-K-I-E,” he signs politely, beaming with that dizzy look frozen on his face. “I don’t remember your last name…”

“No, please,” croaks Red. “I’m not that person anymore. Please, it’s secret, it belongs to Blue and Anti. You’re going to get us in trouble. Sh, Dap, sh. Come here, it’s okay.”

“You don’t love me like this,” stammer Dapper’s hands, still smiling.

“No, no, it’s not that, it’s just - ”

“You afraid of me? Afraid? Not little brother? Just pet?”

“No, we are brothers, we are.”

immabethehero asked: Jamie? It's J A C K I E B O Y M A N

Dapper laughs aloud. “Okay, there’s one option.”

Red looks terrified. “Please, Dap, don’t talk about names!”

Anonymous asked: You don’t have to be like Anti, Red. You don’t have to be like Anti. Jackie, or whatever you want to be called, it’s okay. You’ve been in an environment where everything you do, everything you say is seen as a weakness. It makes sense that you would want to act like Anti, he’s made it seem like he’s the only person who isn’t scared. That’s a lie, y’know, he terrified, all the time and for various reasons. He does it to himself because he’s afraid to admit weakness. But you do (1/?)

“I have made mistakes,” breathes Red, pulling gently on his sleeves, trying to keep him grounded. “I have, so many. And maybe I’m not the person I was, and I’ve been a jerk lately, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want - I don’t want - it doesn’t mean I don’t want to…”

He stares at Dapper. He doesn’t know what he wants. He wishes he could tell him he wants to be brothers again, but Dapper… most of the time he doesn’t even like Dapper.

Spoiled brat, whining for Anti’s attention.

Younger brother forced to act like a pet to survive.

Terrifying warrior beating Red into the ground.

Tough old ally, steady at his side.

Dangerous, ticking time bomb.

Sick friend.

“I still want to help you,” says Red. “I still want to keep you safe. I never meant to grow to hate you in the first place… it’s my fault. It was never yours. I never should have let him separate us all from each other. I never should have let him pit us against each other.”

Anonymous asked: Jameson, maybe it’d be good to have a little heart-to-heart with Jackie? Instead of getting upset immediately and blaming him for everything, why don’t you try to ask him why he acts that way? I think he’s scared the same way you are and talking about it might help both of you in the end.

“Have a hard time talking when disorganized,” says Dapper, panting to himself. “Have a hard time thinking when disorganized. Please? Please?”

bupine asked: you've never been a monster, red, jackie. you've done all you can to keep your brothers safe and fuck, you've done it well. it's incredible the amount of stuff you've sacrificed for them. it's incredible that you're still alive. we're all so so proud of you for everything you've done, man. even if you think you've fucked up now.

“No, please,” whispers Red, pushing Dapper to sit down on the bed. “Please. I can’t be who you need me to be and I want you to stop being proud of me. Stop having expectations, stop pretending I’m… Jackie. Let’s all just accept that I’m Red, I’m Anti’s right hand, Anti’s red right hand, and that will never change.”

cest-mellow asked: jackie, anti isnt there! he doesn’t know anything about what you two are talking about, just have this moment with your brother. screw anti. it’s just you and jameson right now.

“But Anti will be here,” chokes Red. “Anti will find him and push him right back into the same headspace as before. And the more I let him wander from the person Anti wants him to be… the more I let myself wander… the harder it will be to go back to being those people. You have to be Dapper. No more talking about old names, okay?”

Dapper whimpers, closing his eyes, but when he opens them again, the glow has not gone away.

“Bud,” Red protests, exhausted. “Please, I thought you were calm.”

Dapper coughs and gives a sudden tremble, his shoulders heaving like he’ll vomit. A sudden fear flashes through his eyes.

“Dap? Send the glowing away, okay? I’m not asking. You have to stop. You’re a really powerful little guy and you could really ruin something or get hurt if you’re not careful.”

“Red?” Dapper reaches up to clutch at his shirt and he gives that little jolt again, the almost-retch. “Blood in my mouth?”

“Dap? What? You’re over-exerting! Like Blue! Make the magic stop, Dap, now!”

Dapper stares up at him, dazed, panting, eyes shining. A lone trickle of blood splits the middle of his bottom lip and he pales.

Anonymous asked: James, what do you need? We’ll do what we can to help you, Red included.

“My medicine,” cries Dapper. “Don’t want to be insane anymore.”

“You’re not insane, you’re just - fuck, fuck, please, Dap, you have to focus! What do you need, buddy, what do you need?”

“Scared,” signs Dapper, squeezing his eyes shut. “Oh, what have I done. What have I done. Anti’s going to be angry with puppy.”

“Dapper - ”

“Just hold on to me? Just hold onto him?”

Red wraps his arms tightly around him and rocks him against his chest, stroking his hair, shaking with fear. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Just calm down, just calm down.”

scunneredzombie asked: Have you ever asked yourself, /why/ it's a secret? Why can't you be Jackie, Red? What is stopping you from being the person Jameson loves?

Red chokes on a cry. “I just - I can’t! He… I don’t even remember him but I know that he was a better person than I was! I’ve done too much shit, I’ve - I’ve killed innocent people, do you know that?”

Tears begin coursing down his cheeks and he strikes the bed, hard, gritting his teeth in his mouth.

“Jackieboyman! The hero Anti is always mocking! I’m not a hero! I’m a villain - no, worse, I’m a fucking henchman, and I’ve spilled blood, I’ve killed people, I’ve beat my own brothers to shit because they wouldn’t do what I wanted them to.”

He dissolves into tears against Dapper’s back, clutching him close.

“And it doesn’t matter anymore!” he shouts, damn the motel noise policy. “I have to be Red! I have to be the one who hurts them so Anti doesn’t do it instead! I have to help them fall into line so they don’t get beat! And I have to keep you, Dapper, inside your own head, so you don’t fucking kill yourself with this power! I’m sorry for the things I’ve done but I can’t change now. Give me the clock, Dap.”

Dapper gasps and tries to draw himself away, but he is already trapped between Red’s arms, and his brother is wrestling with him over the clock in his hands.

spicydanhowell asked: red, i know you're scared, but you really do need to face this... your name is jackie, and he is jameson. i actually think... maybe you two should go to the magicians and help henrik. he's as scared as you are right now and they have food and medicine and its a safe place to stay where /anti will totally find you/. better than being on the run and filthy and sick. they could get meds for jameson plus henrik may have a parasite from the water, which means you two might as well. you should go :(

“A safe place, listen to them,” cries Red, tugging on his wrists. “Just calm down and maybe we can go to a safe place and you can have your medicine. Dapper, you have to give me the clock, you have to, you’re going to hurt yourself, you’re out of control.”

Dapper won’t remove his hands from the clock to speak. Red forces himself not to yank too hard, breathing heavy. Dapper makes a little “urk” sound and pitches forward again, and more blood splits up out of his mouth.

“Fuck, fuck! Dapper! I - do I call an ambulance? I can’t watch him die, no, no. Please tell me you don’t have to release this. Please, please. You’re not like Blue with his energy building up in his hands. Dapper, you can’t release time magic like this.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red, focus on taking care of yourself and Dap. Right now, it's you two against the world and you're doing so well with what ya got.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” chatters Red, tightening his grip and making Dapper wail with terror over his pretty silver clock. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to do this. I can’t love you, I’m not allowed, I have to be big brother, but soon I’m going to get you home to the others who do love you. I don’t care if you don’t like me but you have to give me this.”

He snatches the clock from Dapper’s hands.

Dapper stares at his own empty fingers, panting.

He looks up and his eyes are still silver.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking - ”

Anonymous asked: Jameson as much as we would love that to work, I don’t think it’s going to. What’s in the past is in the past, you can only build with the pieces that you have left. Yes, Jackie is still under all that trama and conditioning the same way Jameson is under all that Dapper is. But that doesn’t mean that they’ll be the same person when they resurface. Things like this changes people, you can’t expect something like that from him. It’s not fair.

Dapper is glowing like a star. It fills his whole face up.

“You’re right, I can’t expect so much from a ghost. It’s cruel of me to ask him to be the person he was so soon. Ghosts, ghosts? Do you see - the red hood, the blue mask? Want to go home, to see him? Summoned so much power, bad Dapper! Bad puppy! Too much, Jackie, help me, afraid! Do you see the red hood, the blue mask, the laughter on his face, where did it go, where did it go?”

Blue masks and red hoods. Red groans and closes his eyes against a faraway memory of himself, blue eyes beneath a blue mask. Jackieboyman!

“You’re dead,” he tells the memory. “You’re dead. I felt you die inside me.”

Anonymous asked: Don’t be scared, Red. It’s okay to remember. You’re okay and you’re doing great.

“No,” croaks Red, terrified, backing away as Dapper crumples, and the clock in his hands is suddenly burning, burning, but he will not let it go as it fills up, fills up, fills up with power. “What is happening? What the fuck is happening? Am I about to die? Dapper, please! You’re hurting yourself!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Oh god....oh god oh god you gotta stop him, Red!

But it is too late for that now, and the power, like fire and plantlife on the top of a mountain where he once made his home, explodes.

The clock singes his hand and he screams, dropping it as a flood of silver water crashes over his head, disorienting him entirely, and he staggers about on the - this - this is not the carpeted floor of the hotel - he is torn asunder; he is torn jagged; he drowns. He’s in an ocean or a river and it’s tearing all around him and dragging him down and striking him against the rocks and it hurts and smells of blood and dust and water. Where and why and how and what, what the hell, what the fuck race through his head like dogs hunting rabbits and he can’t find the clarity to remember how to scream again; he is on his back, he is sideways, he is falling, he is on solid ground, he is on solid ground, he is -

Oh.

He actually is on solid ground.

You’re lying on the earth next to him, the chain of the clock in your line of sight.

Outside.

On green grass.

Warm sun. Pine trees like towers, breathing up towards the sky.

“What, what, what,” chants Red frantically, clawing at himself, thrashing his way to his knees. He is wearing sneakers and gym shorts and a clean, soft, weighted red hoodie, warm and comfy on his shoulders. His hair is brown without red. “What - Dapper! Dapper!”

He throws his head around, but Dapper is not there. Just the trees of the forest, and the fine blue sky, and there, if he turns his head -

A small, pretty house. At the door, someone is letting a fluffy white cat out.

“Jackie?” laughs Marvin, stepping down the stairs of the porch towards him. He has long hair, a strand of it braided back around his head, and his jewelry shines almost as bright as his clean, wide smile. “Why are you on the ground?”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Oh no

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” repeats Red frantically, reaching out to grab you and clutch you to his chest, panicked. He grabs the clock too and you see, as it passes, that the hands have turned from black to silver. As the first minute of the hour ticks by, that one little minute marker returns to black. “No, no, no, this isn’t happening.”

Anonymous asked: Red I’m like 99.9% sure Dapper just sent you to the past

“This is not real,” whispers Red, clutching at his hair, staring around him like he thought the sky was supposed to be pink instead of blue, and the trees were meant to be mountains. “This is not… this is not even South America, this… this…”

“Jackie?” Marvin is coming towards him now, a jog in his step displaying concern. “You okay?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red. Breathe. Please. This isn't good, but breathe.

“Breathe, breathe, breathe,” repeats Red unsteadily, staggering to his feet. For a second, he draws a long, calm breath.

And then he looks up and sees Marvin fully.

“Fuck,” he gasps, grabbing at his chest. “No, no, no! This isn’t right!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Jackie?! You good?! Do NOT freak out!

“Okay, fine, okay, I’ve got to keep calm,” Red tells himself, clapping his hands together hard, once, twice, three times, good pressure. “Okay, you know what? This is fine. I can do this. It’s probably just a weird time thing and soon it will be over and this will have never happened.”

spicydanhowell asked: shh baby it's okay, you'll just be stuck here for a little bit. think of it like a dream ok? you and jamie are okay.

“Okay, it’s a dream,” chokes Red, turning away as Marvin comes up to him. “It’s a dream, it’s a dream.”

“Jackie?” murmurs Marvin, trying to put a hand on his shoulder, but Red turns and strikes it away, his pupils blown with panic. Marvin steps back, alarmed, his hands still out-stretched.

cest-mellow asked: red are you okay?? go talk to marvin and see what’s going on. do you see dapper ANYWHERE around? maybe he landed in a bush..?

“Maybe he is here somewhere,” he mumbles, darting towards the trees.

“Wha - Jackie!” Marvin hustles after him. “Stop, stop, what’s wrong?”

“Dapper!” whimpers Red, trotting into the forest and staring around him. “Dap, please, I’m sorry. Please whistle for me, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

Birds titter in the branches above his head and go flickering past him, making him startle. The trees are sighing as the wind rushes through them, shaking down green leaves and needles. A chipmunk skitters past his feet and leaps onto the roots of a tree to put its little paws in its mouth. It’s warm and the breeze is pleasant. The trees smell lovely and he can hear a river washing by.

“Jackie,” calls Marvin gently, circling around to approach him from the front this time, his hands out-stretched. Red’s breath catches in his throat, but he does not run away this time. “Jackie, I’m not going to touch you if you don’t want, but please tell me what’s going on. You’re starting to scare me.”

Anonymous asked: Jackie, it’s still Blue. It’s still Marvin. He’s your brother, you can trust him.

“Blue?” he whispers, choked. “Is it you?”

Marvin’s mouth opens and shuts, his eyebrows furrowed down.

“Um, it - it’s me, it’s Marvin. Is someone talking to you? Is - Jackie, did Anti do this?”

A rush of fear burns hot against Red’s face and he gasps, backing away. Marvin doesn’t trust Anti. Marvin doesn’t belong to Anti. Marvin can’t know about Anti, or he will try to make Red stop being with him.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” cries Marvin, alarmed by his distress. “I - we don’t have to mention him. It’s me, brother, it’s Marvin.”

For all that he does not want Anti, Red still knows him - knows his face, knows the way he steps, the way he wears his jewelry, the way he smiles and frowns, the brotherhood that exists even now between them. Blue, Blue, Blue! He’s missed him, he’s missed him, he’s so sorry for leaving him behind!

“Jackie, don’t cry,” whispers Marvin, stepping close again, resisting the urge to touch him. “Shit, bud, what happened, what is it? You can tell me anything. It’s going to be okay. I’ll make it right for you.”

No, no. He can’t tell him.

“Had - had a bad dream,” rasps Red, his hands shaking. “Just - got freaked out for a second.”

spicydanhowell asked: jackie, please just stay calm and let marvin help you all right? none of this will have consequences. you won't be here forever okay? just tell him that jamie sent you here from the future. let him help you.

None of this will have consequences, none of this will have consequences. Red bites down on his lip and keeps it as a mantra in his head. Let Marvin help you.

“Just needed to see you,” he chokes out.

“I’m here,” promises Marvin, stepping into his space. “I’m right here.”

Anonymous asked: Oh my god I’m going to cry. Red you better hug Marvin because I don’t know how long this is gonna last.

Red’s nails dig hard into the inside of his palm, and then, despite it all -

“Fuck, Marvin,” he sobs, and crumples onto his brother’s shoulder. Immediately, Marvin is hugging him, Marvin is squeezing his ribs and burying his face against Red’s hair, and it is him, it is him, for all that it is not him it’s still his Blue.

“I’m really sorry!” he cries, clutching at the soft green dress shirt he’s wearing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Jackie, you didn’t do anything, you’re okay.”

“I left you behind! I’m sorry! You asked me to stay!”

“It was just a dream! Jackie, come on, deep breaths. It was just a dream. Right? Or is there something you need to tell me?”

Red groans and buries himself in his shoulder again.

“You need to take a breather. Lie down before the party. Come on, should we get inside?”

bupine asked: ooh, a party? party for what, i wonder?

Red glances at you, still holding you to his stomach, though Marvin is too interested in stroking his back and looking over him for strange injuries or signs of Anti to notice. “S-sorry, what party?”

“You were helping me cut strawberries just a couple hours ago. Izzy’s birthday?”

He doesn’t know who Izzy is. He swallows and tries to smile at Marvin, his mouth shaking. “Right, sorry…”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Let’s just make sure you’re okay. Come on, we’re alright.”

He pulls Red towards the house. Red doesn’t know why the sight of it makes him afraid.

Maybe just because it’s so familiar.

He should remember it, but… he doesn’t. Someone took the memory from him. He knows. He squeezes his eyes shut.

He always knew there was a “before” and Anti had even told him he had been, at times, happy in it. Accepting that Anti did what he did for a reason - to wipe away the control of the old master, as he usually explained - Red had tried not to be bothered by it. He couldn’t remember it, anyway, so no use in dwelling. But to see it in real life?

He doesn’t think he wants it to be true. Just a dream, just a dream.

Anonymous asked: Red you really should tell Marvin what’s going on! He could help you figure everything out, maybe even find Dapper. For now anyways, you’re safe and in loving arms so don’t freak out too much okay? You’re safe.

Marvin opens the door and makes sure his shaking brother gets up the step, pulling him inside, still rubbing his shoulder. He’s more freaked out than he wants to admit. He’s been with Jackie through hard times before, but this is a new level of out-of-nowhere.

“Should I get Schneep or do you want to go to your room?”

Oh, fuck. He doesn’t know who anyone is. “I need to see - I need to see Dapper,” he says, clutching at straws. He could tell him, right?

Marvin blinks.

His hand drops away from his shoulder.

“Jackie,” he says, very carefully. “Why would you call him Dapper?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red, be honest with Marvin. He seems to be just as confused as you are. Tell him what's going through your head. You can trust him.

Fuck, he’s going to be sick. He’s going to be sick. He doesn’t know anything anymore. He just wants - he just wants - he just -

He falls back onto Marvin’s shoulder, a low whimper falling out of his throat.

“Need to tell you something,” he chokes, as Marvin’s arms wrap around him once again.

“Should I get the others?”

“No, no, please…”

“Come on. We’re going to your room.”

They turn down the hallway directly to their right. Red hears someone laughing in the kitchen and the thunk of ceramics being arranged for lunch. The birds are singing and the windows are all open.

Marvin leads him to the room at the front of the hall, protecting all the others, closest to the entryway. Red stops short in front of it. There are papers pinned all over the door.

A newspaper clipping with a shadowy picture of a silhouette in a hood on the roof of a building. A child’s scrawled crayon picture with a little figure with black hair and a bigger figure dressed in red holding his hand. A receipt for fourteen one-pound bags of Starbursts. A picture of one of the others - or is it himself - being kissed by a huge white dog. A note that reads, “Jackie. You are very stupid. Fuck you. Take the aspirin I put on the table. I’m at work. All my fucking love, Schneep.”

Red’s mouth dries and his eyes water. Marvin puts his hand on the door, but Red reaches out to stop him.

“Wait,” he croaks. “Can we go to your room instead?”

“Don’t you want your lava lamp to watch and your heavy blanket and your cube and stuff?”

He shakes his head, backing away. He doesn’t own anything now. Marvin purses his lips, worried, and leads him one farther door down the hall, opening it up and letting Red slip inside.

Anonymous asked: Jackie is going to get way too overwhelmed. Bud, you need to communicate with Marvin. I know you’re scared but at least ask to go somewhere else that makes you a but more comfortable. And ask for Jamie, not Dap. Schneep is Dok and Chase is Trick. I believe Izzy is Chase’s daughter.

He tries to memorize all of it. The names don’t sound familiar at all to him. The only one he knew before he was separated from Anti was ‘Marvin,’ and that was a secret for him to keep.

Marvin knows Red is overwhelmed too. It’s why they spend a good five minutes just sitting together in silence next to his bed. Red closes his eyes and leans against his shoulder, running his hand over the thick grey rug on Marvin’s floor.

His room is nice and quiet and dark, and absolutely coated in plants. Vines surround the headboard of his bed and bloom up towards the ceiling, painted navy blue with stars on it. There’s a lamp shaped like a sun on his bedside table and three huge shelves full of flowers and herbs and vegetables and bonsai trees. He has a Night Vale poster and a cat bed on his windowsill. There’s a little drawer with a mirror scattered in jewelry and make-up and nail polish. He has pictures too, but instead of scrambled across his door or walls like Jackie’s, his are in small, starry picture frames arranged neatly on the far wall. It smells of lemon and smoky incense.

Red hates - more than he knows how to express, more than he knows how to put into words - just how much Blue would love to have a room like this.

He hates that.

He will never have a room like this.

And it’s Anti’s - it’s Anti’s -

“Fuck,” he whispers, hiding against Blue’s chest. “This isn’t right.”

“Tell me what’s happening,” says Blue, with urgency now. “Tell me.”

“I meant - I meant Jamie, not Dap.”

Blue breathes out a small sigh of relief.

“Okay… that’s a start. Why say Dap at all? You know he hates that. You have to be kind with him, you know small things can set him off. And he’s just starting to feel like Anti won’t catch him again.”

bupine asked: jackie, red, what time is this? what year? has dapper even been... created? if not, that could be why he's not here.

“What day is it?” croaks Red.

Marvin stares at him.

“Um. June… fourth, I think. Yeah, her birthday.”

Red rubs at his face.

“What… what year?”

Marvin breathes a low, nervous breath through his teeth. “Jackie…”

“Please, just…”

“If Anti’s in your head - ”

“Please, just tell me!”

Marvin stares at him. He doesn’t see any evil influence in him, but he doesn’t know exactly what that would look like anyway. There’s no way Anti could have come into his universe, is there?

“It’s 2018.”

cest-mellow asked: ohhh shoot dude! you gotta tell him what’s going on, let him help you out!

“I’m like five years in the past.” Red grabs his hair and tries to breathe.

“What?”

“I - I think I’m going to throw up, I don’t - ”

Marvin grabs his trash bin just in time for Red to rock forward and throw up something that tastes like fruit flavoring and bile. He’s never fucking eating Starbursts again. Wait, the last thing he ate was communion bread!

“Fuck you, past Red,” he groans, spitting sick out of his mouth. “You suck, man, you’re killing me.”

Marvin gives a bewildered, trembling quiver of a laugh. “I - I gotta get Schneep! What the fuck are you talking about, I - Henrik!”

Anonymous asked: Jackie now you really have to tell Marvin what’s happened. This is before Anti came right? You’ve got to warn them, even if this is a time line in which Anti doesn’t come, but you still have to do it. You were going to say it’s all Anti’s fault right? That all this got taken away from you guys? You owe it to them to try and preserve what’s left. Dapper gave you a second chance to save everyone, you’ve got to at least try to prevent it. Please.

“The only thing I should warn them about is the fact that they’re living under the control of a fucking monster!” cries Red, heaving. “They - they should go to Anti now!”

“Holy shit,” laughs Marvin, frantically freaked-out. “You’re - he’s - maybe you’re delusional too? Should we take you to Jameson’s psychiatrist? When did this start, are you - ? Here, I’ll go get Schneep, you - ”

“No,” cries Red, grabbing his sleeve. “No, stay here, please let me explain. I don’t know if I can, but I have to try.”

spicydanhowell asked: jackie, show marvin your camera. marvin: this version of jackie you're with right now was sent back in time. he's a few years older than you are now. some crazy things are going to happen in your future, okay? so jackie is just really confused and he's lost a lot of his memories. you should get him to lie down, and talk to him calmly for a while ok? tell him about your magical activities and stuff. your friends especially, ok? i'm sorry this is so strange.

“Yeah, I - I - ”

“What the hell are you looking at that thing for, Red? Where did you get a camera?”

“Listen, look, they’re trying to tell you - ”

Red pushes the camera into his hands and Marvin takes it nervously from him, his eyes scanning over the message. His mouth goes very tight, but suddenly he’s calm. He gets to his feet and Red startles, staring up at him, his hands reaching out for the camera.

“Blue?”

“Where are these messages coming from, Jackie?”

“They’re - they - they talk to me.”

“They talk to you? They tell you things? But you don’t know who they are? What sort of things do they tell you?”

“No, no, Blue, listen, please, they help me. They’re trying to help, they’re trying to help me look after Dapper and get back to - to…”

Red trails off, fear written over his face.

“To Anti?” croaks Marvin, backing away from him.

“No, no… you don’t understand!”

“Marv?” someone is calling from the hallway, their socked footsteps padding down the hall. “You good? I thought I heard shouting.”

“I’m getting this the fuck away from you,” gasps Marvin, holding you too tightly in his hands. “Jackie, it’s going to be okay, I’m going to fix this. Don’t listen to the messages anymore, we’re going to clear everything up.”

“Wait, no!”

Anonymous asked: You’re not a monster and if it takes us telling you that every time you make that claim then we’ll do it. You’re not Anti, you’re not a monster, you’re a human that makes mistakes and hard choices to take care of everyone else, right? Just relax.

“He’s the monster!” cries Red, leaping to his feet and making Marvin startle back. The door opens behind you and Marvin and someone gasps, alarmed. You shake in Marvin’s hands. “I wasn’t talking about myself! Maybe I wasn’t a monster back in this time, but the old master is using you and doing horrible things and making horrible things true! The old master - the creator! He’s why Dapper’s sick and Trick’s suicidal and why Anti is always lashing out at me! You are living under the control of a fucking monster!”

“Jackie?” cries a voice like Trick’s, terrified. “Marv?”

“Chase, stay back, something’s wrong. Go get your brothers!”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Jackie you should tell him everything

“I’m from the future!” he cries. “I don’t know how, Dapper did something, he was overwhelmed and I wasn’t enough to calm him down, I’m not a good brother to him! But I’m here now, right? Listen, listen, please don’t look at me like that! You don’t understand what Anti is. I know he seems scary but then he’s okay once he shows you what you’ve been missing.”

“You sound - you sound - you - you.” Chase stammers violently, tucked behind Marvin‘s back. “Sound like you’re in a fucking c-c-cult!”

“Please,” begs Red, realizing he scared them by shouting. He falls back to the floor, the same way he shows submission to Anti, and clutches his hands together on his heart. “I’m sorry, I’m scared, please don’t give me to your master.”

“No one is going to hurt you,” swears Marvin, stepping forward a little again. “No one, I promise, I promise. I won’t let anything hurt you. I’m just worried about you. You don’t sound like yourself.”

“What’s happening?” comes an urgent voice behind them, accented German.

“Jackie’s talking about Anti!”

“He was on the ground outside, freaking out, and now he says this camera is talking to him.”

“Don’t look into the lens. Jackie, come here, let good doctor have look at you.”

Henrik moves fearlessly into your line of sight and Jackie’s space, crouching down beside him and taking his head in his hands. Weepy and exhausted, Red doesn’t protest.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Marvin! Pay attention! Be on your guard!

“It can see us,” whispers Chase, holding on to Marvin’s shoulder. “Can he see us?”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: I have no idea were from the future like jackie said

“Great,” whispers Chase, staring at you. “This is wonderful, wonderful. Hey, let’s see if the kids can get here a little earlier, shall we? This all seems extremely safe.”

“Don’t look at it, amata, you could get hypnotized.”

aamayay asked: Jackie, calm down! Marvin is going to give back the camera, alright? So that the stress can be expelled and we can have a group discussion, peacefully, okay? Please, Marvin, hear him out. I know you don’t trust us and I mean you’re definitely not the first, the magicians in Peru were the same, but just give us a chance? We’re trying to help, let us prove it to you.

“No, no way,” laughs Marvin. “Fuck you, Anti.”

“Marv, we should destroy it.”

“I could melt it down right here.”

“No, please don’t!” shrieks Red, suddenly thrashing out of Henrik’s hands. “Please, no, anything but that, he’ll never find me if you do!”

“Sounds like a compelling reason to burn it to plastic.”

“Don’t do it when he’s this upset!” Henrik cuts him off. “Stop it, just listen to him! Neither of you know what it’s like to be under Anti’s control. Neither of you have the first fucking idea. Pray to God you never do.”

Marvin and Chase shut up.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: I don't think Anti can see you??? We're trying to help you all. Your future is TWISTED.

“Look, it - it doesn’t even matter what you say,” growls Marvin, closing his eyes, trying to think. “Jameson can’t throw people years back in time! He can reverse a day or two once or twice. And magic doesn’t do this, fuck knows what Jamie even is to be able to do even a little time travel.”

“Yeah, Jamie can’t just go for a walk back years and years, and he definitely can’t send someone else back,” agrees Chase. He’s the only one who ever remembers the change. You can catch him when he’s being sneaky if his eyes are silver though, ha. But he doesn’t work like what you’re saying. Right, Jaimer?”

Red freezes and opens his eyes. Everyone turns, and Marvin takes the camera with him.

A small, tidy young man with huge grey-blue eyes stares back at you from the very edge of the doorway, his eyes wide but not afraid, just a little nervous. He stands in the shadows outside the room, gripping the doorframe. He wears a soft button-up shirt and jeans, his hair combed neatly down. On one wrist, he wears a small brown watch, but on the other you can see the thick outline of heavy, lacing string-scars.

“Dapper?” whispers Red. “Please…”

Jameson flinches and backs away, pausing only a second before he turns to dart away. Marvin lets out a deep sigh.

Anonymous asked: Marvin, you really do need to trust us. We’re not on anti’s side- in fact, we’ve been actively trying to get him away from anti- but we’ve been with Jackie this whole time, through everything he’s been through. He’s extremely confused and in his future, Anti had all of you brainwashed and under his control and made you go by different names, which is why he’s so desperate to get back. He’s just confused, please don’t jump to conclusions right now -its-ethan-bro

Marvin stares at you. Chase tries to peek over at the screen but Marvin holds it away from him, his eyes filling up with an emotion you don’t recognize. Maybe fear. Maybe distrust. Maybe a lot of different things, none of them comforting.

He shakes his head very slightly. The breath seems to slide out of him.

Anonymous asked: Thank GOD for Henrik. Marvin can you do some type of spell to hide the signal from the camera? The magicians did that for Dok’s camera, maybe you can do it for his? Then Anti won’t be able to find you guys.

“That - that sounds like really complicated magic. This place, though - it was supposed to be safe from Anti. I’ve put up every ward in the book, I hid it under every disguise I could find, in fact it’s not even - ”

Marvin remembers who could be listening to him and abruptly cuts himself off.

“Might have been a seizure,” murmurs Henrik, running his hands across Red’s head. “Or a concussion. But the things he’s saying… he was fine yesterday, I thought?”

“He was, he was. I would have noticed if he had been like this.”

bupine asked: marvin, chase, henrik. in the future, anti kidnaps each of you and fucks with your minds. he renames you, takes your memories and conditions you to be his. he renames marvin "blue," henrik "dok," chase "trickshot," jameson "dapper," and jackie "red." this version of jackie is from five years in the future. now, this is important. where is jameson? do you know? we need to know he's ok, he wasn't coping well when he sent himself and jackie to the future.

Marvin’s air is gone. He’s ushered Chase to sit down with Henrik and Red so he can watch over all three of them at a time, and none of them have to see this.

Because it can’t be true. It can’t be. And if it is… they shouldn’t be the ones burdened to know about it.

“You’re all liars,” he whispers, covering his mouth, and then his eyes, and then his heart. But still he answers: “Jameson is here with us and you will never get your hands on him again. He’s fine, he’s doing better… much better these days. He told me he’s going to learn to be happy and independent just to fucking spite you. He’s tough, tough as nails. You’re not going to take him from me again. I can hide them. I have to hide all of them…”

florenceisfalling asked: marvin, you don't have much time with him, i don't think. please just try to show him that its okay here, that no one's hurt and everyone is happy. please. he needs to remember that.

Marvin closes his eyes. Breathes in, breathes out. He doesn’t know what’s happening, but he has more important things to worry about. And you’re right, he knows - his big brother - his friend - he doesn’t feel safe. Maybe he hasn’t felt safe for a long time, and Marv just didn’t notice. Or maybe it’s true. And this - this moment in time - is his only chance to give him a little comfort in the middle of his hell. What he wouldn’t give to have an hour to go back to Jameson and hold him while he was a puppet, tell him he would be free someday and that people would love him and he wouldn’t have to act like a pet. Or to curl up around Henrik’s freezing body as Anti beat him, and protect him from just one blow.

He gets to his knees and puts his hand on Red’s knees, drumming a soothing rhythm against his thigh.

“Okay,” he whispers, as Henrik’s gloved, soothing hands begin to calm Red down. “We’re okay. We’re okay. Nobody’s getting hurt, everybody’s good. You’re okay. I love you, Jackie.”

Red seems to bow over himself. Chase scoots close too and wraps his arms around him and squeezes, warm and steady.

“Everything is okay,” says Chase.

“Yeah,” murmurs Marvin. “In fact - well, it’s better than okay. Chase gets Izzy for her birthday today.”

Chase’s mouth blooms with a smile and he snuggles against Red’s shoulder, humming.

“And Jameson stopped hallucinating last week and he says the paranoia’s manageable. He’s talking about getting a job.”

“He’s gained his weight back,” adds Henrik.

“And Henrik, too,” grins Marvin, making his brother blush. “Henrik is seeing his therapist… and a new girl.”

Henrik reddens even worse, grumbling beneath his breath.

Red hides his eyes from them. If they can’t see him, he can pretend he’s not listening. He can pretend he’s not wishing for a life like this.

Anonymous asked: Y’know, that’s completely fair. But Anti is far worse then a cult and the stuff that’s happened is not great at all, trust us. I mean you see it right? You see Jackie? He doesn’t seem in the best shape now does he? You wanna figure out what happened? You’re going to have to listen to us to figure it out or give the camera back to Jackie. I know this is scary...but you have to trust us. That’s how we helped you in the past...or well the future.

“Please, please.” Red squeezes his eyes shut and reaches blindly for the camera, for Marvin, clutching at his sleeves. “Please, give it back to me, they’re my… they help me, I need them. They’re… they’re nice to me. They even kind of like me, even though, I’m… me. I can’t lose that…”

“Shit, fuck,” whispers Marvin, staring between the camera and Red.

“I can see it from here,” murmurs Henrik. “If something starts happening I’ll take it again.”

Marvin presses the camera into Red’s hands again. He relaxes with a groan, curling slightly in on himself.

“Hey, this does look like Jamie’s watch!” Chase picks up the little circle of silver beside him, blinking. “It’s like, a quarter silver. That’s cool, is it a timer?”

Anonymous asked: Easy, Red. It’s okay. Just deep breaths and start from the beginning. Whatever you can remember. It’s okay.

“I don’t remember anything,” whispers Red. “Until a few months ago. I woke up and you were beside me, Marvin. And that was all that I knew…”

Marvin presses down on his knee. Lets up. Presses down. Lets up. Presses down.

“I’m… I dream, sometimes, about leaving him, but that just makes it harder to wake up and realize I never can…”

Henrik gives a sudden shiver, drawing slightly back from him. Chase reaches out to touch his hand.

Anonymous asked: Take a good look at your brothers, Red. Look at how bright their eyes are, how clean they are, how healthy they look. See how there's no blood on them, no wounds, how their clothes are well-fitting and clean. Look around at the house they're in, how it's bright and lovingly decorated. Look at how they care about each other (and you!) and listen to each other. This is what Anti took from you. This is what Anti destroyed. Are you sure you want him back?

Henrik runs the latex of his gloves across Red’s chest, looking for abnormalities, and Red has a vague memory of holding still and snapping the latex gloves playfully while Henrik examined him. It is too calm a memory to have come from the last few months, he knows. Henrik looks well, a nice color to his usually morbidly pale cheeks, and he’s even strong, Red thinks, running his eyes over his body. Like he’s been allowed to run, to work out. Dok wouldn’t do that, would he? He’s something of a genius, sure, and he’s a good healer, but Red can’t imagine him doing anything else, being anyone other than Doktor. Going for runs? Helping make the cake for his niece’s birthday party? Pushing past Marvin and examining Red so calmly, with his own authority, his own confidence? Where’s the tremble in his wrists gone? Where are the dead-eyed breakdowns where he’s so numb Trick has to feed him?

He really lived like this, once? They all did? Marvin with his long, neat hair, jewelry he picked out for himself, a room full of plants? He doesn’t have to hide his magic or sneak around to make sure everyone gets fed. He doesn’t have to wait for a safe time to visit and hug his brothers. No one locks him in this room at night. He has cats. Red thought Blue hated cats. And Trick - he can’t remember the last time Trick hugged him. Maybe… maybe never, in his memory. Why would he? He’s the bottom of the pack and Red is at the top. All they do is avoid each other, or sometimes Red slaps him. But this Chase is curled up beside him, warm and unafraid, holding his shoulders. They think he’s hypnotized and they still trust him not to hurt them.

They were wrong about that, he supposes. Maybe they didn’t really know who he was. Maybe Jackie himself didn’t know who he was. Or maybe he wasn’t that person back then, but he is now, and looks down at Chase’s downy head on his shoulder, and knows that he will hit this person, and call him stupid, and useless, and a waste of space, and that Chase will run scampering when he hears his footsteps.

The thought of it was already horrible when he was living in a broken-down medical building and knew that Trickshot was going to be miserable one way or another, but to know that he could be safe and happy - to know that they could all be safe and happy and trust each other -

His brain is shorting out on him. He goes dead quiet, slumping against the bed, unable to talk anymore.

bupine asked: red, look around. you're happy in this timeline, happier than you were with anti. happy and warm and free. this is what you need. anti isn't. you have to face facts, jackie.

He just wishes Anti would be a part of this with him. He isn’t ready to let him go. But he wants this and he always has. He just buried the secret down deep, deep inside him. Strange… he doesn’t know when wanting to be happy became his darkest secret.

“More of the clock is changing,” says Chase. Marvin leans over to take it from him, frowning quizzically.

“Some water?” offers Henrik gently, pre-occupied with his patient. Red nods slowly, sniffling. He wants to be hugged and looked after and taken care of. He wants to be the little brother too sometimes.

nikkilbook asked: When the fire started on the river, Red and Dap almost didn’t make it. We we finally able to convince Red to head for the water, but then the current carried them away from you. I think Red thinks you are angry with him. Honestly, I think he thinks EVERYONE is angry with him. He misses you, but I’m not sure he feels like he’s allowed to.

Red has a glass of water and a little turkey sandwich that Chase makes him. He knows his stomach will change if he time-travels again, but he can’t help it. His brain is starving to eat even if Jackie’s body was full. He sits and lets big hot tears come rolling down his cheeks, and Henrik and Chase retreat to give him some space and murmur in the hall, and Marvin lies down beside him just like Blue would.

“Can I ask you something?” whispers Red, when he has a little calm back.

The silver on the clock is getting very thin.

“Anything,” whispers Marvin, who loves him even if he doesn’t understand.

“Was I really a hero?”

“Yes.” He strokes his hand across his big brother’s shoulder, squeezing tight, tight. “You are. You save lives. You stand up for people. Fight for what’s right. You’re a good hero. A good brother. A good man.”

Red stares at him like he’s starving for something more than turkey and lettuce and whole grain wheat.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” whispers Marvin. “But whatever happens? Whatever is coming? Jackie, we will get through it together. Okay?”

He wants it to be true. He wants it, suddenly, to not be a dream. He wants to stay with Marvin and he wants to fight for this life while it still exists, before everything changes.

“Okay,” he whispers, as the last dregs of Jameson’s power slip out of the watch.

“Promise me,” says Marvin, says Blue, says his brother, says his twin. “Whatever happens, you’re not leaving me behind. You’re going to stay with me. You’re not going to try to fight it alone. You don’t get to leave me behind. I know you. If you find a way to stop this - if you find a fight to fight - if you get a chance to save someone - you don’t get to do it alone. Do you understand? You and me, Jackie. You and me. Promise me. We can keep each other safe if we’re together. Promise.”

Something small and taut and cold hurts its way down Jackie’s chest.

And then he is gone.

The silver river comes back -

And he cries out again, thrashing -

And then he is on the filthy floor of a cheap motel, shaking like he’s been shot, and Dapper is unconscious against the wall beside him, blood dripping from his nose.

————-

“Maybe I am angry with him,” says Blue, very softly, in a hospital on the other side of the world, stroking Trick’s hair as he sleeps across his legs. “Maybe he should feel bad. I asked him to stay. I needed him to stay. He left me behind again.”

End Section Three of Chapter Three: JJ’s Secret

[berri-hopefulspouse]

-- A Look Into The Past --

[ Reuploaded for your convenience~ Because tumblr is an ass~ ]

Fandom & Characters: Danganronpa, Ren (DR s/i, Ultimate Empath), [Mentioned/Minor roles] Celestia Ludenberg, Chihiro Fujisaki, Junko Enoshima, Sayaka Maizono, Makoto Naegi, Aoi Asahina, Kiyotaka Ishimaru, Yasuhiro Hagakure, various Future Foundation technicians and scientists

TW: Self-Harm & Suicide Mentions/Implications, violence/gore warning, emetophobia, Laboratory/Science stuff, Panic attacks, Runaway, Dissociation, Dysphoria implication, Neglect, Bullying mention, General assholery, Hella angst, Mention of bondage & restraints (mostly as jokes), Deadname drop, general PTSD stuff, Hallucinations, Alcohol mention, Homo & transphobia, NB-Phobia, Manipulation, Gaslighting

AN: Another reuploaded story from my previous account! This one was definitely the most uh. Chaotic in terms of trigger warnings, as you can see. All of these are events following THH, and not long before the events that predate DR2 occur. So keep that in mind. ALSO! At the time this is posted (10/3/2020) - this is the story that precedes the current F/O event going on, hinted at here. 

Summary: After the events at Hopes Peak High, each member of the class- over time- are put into a procedure to regain the memories lost over the 2 years. It’s Ren’s turn, and being the last one for various personal reasons- they are nervous. Is it worth it to retrieve memories of the past? Or would they have been better off not knowing at all?…

Fidget. Fidget and broil in thought. Fidget and listen. Listen. 

“You understand the conditions in which you'll go under, Mx?” An older man asked them, “The process will take but a few hours, with one of the devices we have on hand.” They didn't know much of this man- save for one thing. He was one of the technical scientists who worked for Future Foundation- something somewhat new to the brunette.

The weeks following their escape from Hopes Peak...from Junko...it was a bit messy. Scooped up by this organization that apparently was the revolution for hope and trying to contain the disease that was despair. Taking days to breathe and recover from the events, only to have to explain themselves alongside their classmates. So, here they were now. One by one, they were all being asked the same thing; Do they want their memories recovered? Do they want to recall the two years lost to them due to Junko’s meddling?...

“Yes, I understand.” Soren mumbles, shyly, wringing their hands into their shirt, “I am ready to proceed.” 

Whether they were ready for it or not, they knew they had to know. They had to know what they missed, how they were connected to everyone...what their past was like…

Believe it or not, even their childhood felt fuzzy to them. In a way, them and Kirigiri were connected in that sense. Theirs however was...different. 

‘I’m the last one who’s going through this procedure…’ They recalled to themselves as they got up, following the scientist into the laboratory...they felt nervous- and part of them wished Makoto was with them to offer some reassurance.

‘He’s been running himself ragged lately with tasks and plans though, we’ve all been working hard...I let him rest when I got called up.’ 

They thought back to exactly why they were one of the last people to be brought to this laboratory. Intensive therapy, trying to recover from the events of the Killing School life...sure, it affected everyone quite differently, but for them it almost seemed to bring out the worst in them. Persistent nightmares, paranoia, fainting spells… It didn’t take long for them to be brought to counselling once the others found out- although it was mostly due to Makoto outting his concern for them.

‘They figured it was PTSD, naturally. I knew that, it’s basic psychology... But still…’ From what they explained… ‘It seems like it goes far beyond just Hopes Peak. It just seemed like that whole shitshow might’ve just been a breaking point.’ 

Sitting down in one of the chairs in the laboratory, they looked to the various technicians who were around. All typing away at computers, ready to begin the process.

“Like I said, this will take a few hours...and given your special circumstance, definitely a bit longer than most to recover. However, we’re also not certain if all your memories will be recovered.” He explained, securing both their legs and arms to the chair with small clasps. Easy enough to break out of given an emergency were to occur, but enough to restrain any potential flailing. They lightly tugged on the restraints, feeling very little give.

“You going to explain the bondage, or am I just gonna have to deduce that on my own accord?” They joked lightly, giving a shaky smile to the older man who shook his head with a sigh, ignoring the younger adult’s antics.

“They’re just in case. We don’t know what memories might surface, and given your previous history...we just want to make sure you don’t injure yourself in any way.” 

Looking away, they felt the slight phantom burns along their wrist as they recalled exactly what they all meant. Sure, the scars on their wrist were...older than they recalled...Most of which were faded deep into their skin. All except one, from a more recent relapse episode.

‘Hence the need to keep me safe, I guess,’ They thought to themselves, ‘No one at Future Foundation really treats me like the rest of the class…’

And why would they? Ren was a special case, after all, being hung with a slew of various mental disorders… As the psychologist in charge of them put it; “They walk the line of both hope and despair. They try so desperately to cling to hope, but given their potential history, succumbing to despair might simply be an inevitability.”

That anxious thought caused them to shudder, not quite listening to the scientific rambling of the technician as they secured a device to their head. Deep breaths...one after another. The static in their ears receded, until they heard the technician speak again.

“Did you hear what I said, Soren?”

“Huh? Oh. Oh yeah!” They lied through their teeth, “Let’s just get this over with, yeah…”

The technician headed out of the room, reappearing behind the glass wall that was before them. Taking one last glance around the room, it was circular. It reminded them almost of the trial grounds- but more...high-tech. It was an observation room of sorts, however, shown by the glass and the scientists working away behind it. 

‘This is either going to go well…...or really, really poorly.’ They thought to themselves as they took a slow breath. 

There was a slight crackle, an intercom. Their heartbeat skipped for a second but they quickly regathered themselves. 

‘It’s not him. You’re not there anymore.’ They reminded themselves as a voice came on.

“Okay, we’re going to begin the procedure. Are you ready?”

They tried giving a stiff nod, but finding their head was basically fixed in place, simply hummed.

“Ready.”

“Proceeding then, in Five...Four...Three…”

‘Deep breaths, in and out.’

“Two…”

‘Everythings going to be just fine.’

“One.” 

A weird sensation started, right at their temples, only mere moments after the word left the technician’s mouth. Then, a low hum, that made Ren sit a bit straighter with a nervous anxiety and itch at their mind. The hum got louder, louder, louder still…

Until they completely blacked out, altogether.

–☆–

“Ḷ̵̨̜̹̣̖̮̮́ȁ̶̧̼͖̥̰̱̆̈́͂i̴̦̗̪̯̲̻͇̫͑̾̄̆l̸̘̗͕͎̩̈́̄̃͆a̷̡̯͑̑̃̔̈̂̓.̸͓̮̓͂͛̆̏͗̈.̷̗̲̞͙̼̗̈́͗͌̈́͜͠͝.̸̡̛̺̰͓̟̀̂̌̓̅͑͜��̙̙̯͜?̶͔͍͛̾̊̑̓̇̌̈̅̈́̚͝͝”

A voice. Disconnected. Everything felt heavy, almost familiarly so. The name- it didn’t feel like their own, and it rang with such a chord of familiarity that it felt like a dagger straight through their throat. They suddenly felt so...so sick, but they couldn’t place why... 

“Laila?” A bit louder this time, taking a slow breath in and out, they- no, she- looked up.

“Huh?”

She was seated at a desk- one that...she(-they, no wait uh)...she believed was their own. However, the face that greeted her...she couldn’t even figure out who it was.

“Jeez, I can’t believe you fell asleep in class again.” The person said, a cheeky grin on his features. Jet black hair and light brown eyes greeted (him...them, fuck-) her, and she tried putting a name to a face but...she can’t seem to quite remember, “C’mon, slowass, we’ve got practice.”

“Pra...practice?” 

Drama practice.

The word clicked into her mind, and almost instantly she sat up further.

“Oh shit- That’s today?!”

“No duh, it’s Tuesday, remember?! Sheesh, you’re so forgetful. Cmon-!” 

Before the person- Viktor, the name clicked in her brain almost like it was always there- could finish what she was saying, the brunette had gotten up and run out of the room, into a hallway. 

‘Hercules Middle School…’ She thought to herself (Himself? Why was it so difficult?), as she ran down the hallway, ‘I always grew up here...jeez, I just wanna leave from this nightmare of a school already.’ 

She skidded a bit as they turned, running straight into a wall with a slight thud and a yelp of pain.

“Okay, ow.” She groaned a bit, blinking. He- She had ended up on the floor, head fuzzy slightly as she pulled themselves to their feet.

“Sheesh, dude, you’re so clumsy.” Viktor talked to her, chuckling as she pulled herself to her feet, only to get smacked upside the head, “Watch where you’re walking next time!”

“Eheh...s-sorry.” She stuttered a bit, almost shy. 

“Don’t apologize for everything, man, it’s gonna look pathetic on ya,” Viktor assured, causing her to blush a bit and look away.

“R-right.”

She chuckled nervously, not meeting his expression- afraid to express his- her (their?) mild hurt at what he said.

“Lets get going, we’re running late.”

“Okay…”

With that said, Viktor quickly took a hold of her hand, and the two quickly raced off through the winding corridors of the school.

Even so, as they started to step into the gym, he felt a slight buzz in her pocket. Taking out her phone- dated as it was- they checked the message she received from their- His- her childhood best friend...Kayla.

[ (Kay) 2:43 PM: Hey...dude, U should see this shit. Are you with Vik rn? ]

[ (Lai) 2:44 PM: Yea, y? ]

[ (Kay) 2:44 PM: U need to see this. ]

[ [Kayla sent IMG32452 ] ]

Looking at the image, her heart froze. It was a series of texts between her and Viktor, with the former talking about how childish she was. How much of a crybaby she was over the littlest things, sensitive to every little poke at her. How much of a copycat she was. How it was just so easy to be friends with her, to use her...And her eyes teared up. Kayla looked to be at least trying to defend her...these weren’t even from 20 minutes ago… 

“Laila? You coming, dude?” His-Her thoughts were interrupted by Viktor, as their head jerked up to look at him. He-- She didn’t know what she felt. Part of her wanted to hit him, part of him wanted to scream at him, part of them wanted to ask if they did something wrong...but...

“I...Uh...I don- I don’t feel good suddenly. T-Tell t-them I’ll be in...in a minute…” She mumbled out, feet slowly staggering back as an arm laced around their stomach. That wasn’t entirely a lie, either, they felt faint…they felt sick...she felt...hurt.

Before Viktor could see them cry...she turned and ran off, tears blurring his-(her-their--) her vision as the squeak of sneakers filling the hallways and their crowded mind. 

The colors around them blurred, holding their head in their hands as they trembled in place. Suddenly, they were in the bathroom- though they sensed the day was different than it was mere moments ago. But that wasn’t what was taking up their thoughts. It was staring into the mirror- at the square glasses and overly pudgy baby-face they have. Staring at someone that wasn't her- that isn’t who they are! 

‘Fuck, fuck, why do I hate myself so much?!’ (They- She- he-) She asked herself, struggling to breathe. Even being in the girls’ bathroom felt suffocating, but it was all she knew. Sure, she didn’t feel “dysphoria” like Viktor did...but she felt wrong. She felt WRONG. Her arms shook, nails digging into her skin as she hugged herself tightly. She wanted to shave all her hair off- she wanted to rip off her chest- she wanted- she wanted--

‘Agh! I can’t...I can’t breathe-!’ She forced herself to look away from the mirror, thinking about all the times she was addressed as a girl...all the times she felt wrong in an environment where she should feel comfortable. She always considered herself a tomboy- someone who definitely wasn’t on the feminine side of things...but it felt deeper. Her name made her want to puke- this long hair made her want to scream. The floofy, glittery, feminine clothing made her want to cry, scream, do anything. Something. But all she could do was struggle to breathe, struggle to consider what was happening to her.

That wasn’t even going into all the bullying. How she didn’t fit in with anyone in her class- even amongst her friends. She didn’t THINK she was transgender like Viktor was, but she knew something was...wrong with her. Something different. She couldn’t be a girl, either, she couldn’t be. All the torture she went through day to day- with her family, with her friends, with her classmates, with her-fucking-self. She was in a war she felt like she was losing.

‘...Wouldn’t it be great, if I died right here?’ A voice whispered in the back of their head, causing them to freeze up, ‘Taking the razors and digging them deep into your neck-’

“Laila?”

A voice from outside the bathroom quickly shut them out of their intrusive, suicidal thoughts. She recognized that voice- it was the school nurse. She took a deep breath, in and out- but words struggled to escape their throat, save for a soft squeak of a sob. 

“Is everything okay?...”

‘...I can’t keep doing this to myself...I-I need to tell her...what’s going on…’ She at least was self-aware enough to know that much. She couldn’t put herself through her own hell anymore...So whether she was ready for whatever would come or not...she rubbed her eyes a bit, slowly stepping back out into the hallway to try and finally reach out- after years of remaining silent. 

...Darkness...it kept swallowing them up, almost like a tidal wave. It took a second to recall what was going on. Right. The procedure. Future Foundation. Was...was that a memory then? Were these dreams of memories of their past? How long did they feel like this?!

‘Viktor…’ The name felt bitter on their tongue, and with it a small swell of various emotions came to head. Depression, anguish, betrayal…

‘He talked shit behind my back… we went all the way back to middle school. I trusted him with everything but…’

A voice, Viktor’s, cut through the noise of their head.

“C’mon man, you know I never mean it. Besides, if you weren’t such a damn prick, I wouldn’t need to call you out on your shit all the time.”

“Jeez, you never had gender issues before until I started bringing up that I was trans. What are ya, a copycat?”

“What are you gonna say next, that you’re trans too? Haha! Dude, Nonbinary folk can’t be trans. Besides, you don’t have any physical dysphoria, yeah?”

For years, he manipulated them. Teased them. Backstabbed them.

‘How could I forget about him?...How could I forget about how I was treated growing up by everyone?! Well, I guess I chose to after I came to Japan…’ 

The sadistic smile came into their mind’s eyes. Those dark brown eyes they admired for so long...it was because of him they became an artist. That they were exposed to who they were, and yet-

A sharp pain echoed through the back of their head, causing them to physically flinch- though it was restricted.

‘That’s right, I was bound to that chair in case something unforeseen happened…’ They reminded themselves, despite still trying to thrash. If their voice would work, they’d likely be crying out in pain. 

Still, after another moment, the pain ebbed a bit. They recalled something else. Why that betrayal, that anger...it was so strong…

The blog. The hate. The messages telling them to do something drastic- to kill themselves. The pressure that nearly did cost them their life, had it not been for their escape…

‘...Yet it took me until...some point later...because I know he’s definitely not in my life anymore.’ They told themselves, taking a few breaths to try and ease the picture of the blog from their mind- to stop themselves from seeing red.

They didn’t notice the shuddering they were feeling until a few moments later, but that soon calmed back down.

‘...I do wonder how Kayla is...I didn’t even remember her until now. Did she hurt me too? Did she forget about me when I ran away to Japan…? I don’t know..’ Still, they sighed as Viktor’s laugh cut through their thoughts. Despite themselves, they felt a sense of nostalgia at the sound. 

‘Even if he’s a bastard...even though he hurt me in ways that could potentially never heal...I hope he’s doing okay in all of this.’ That little part of them whispered in the space of their subconscious, as memories of their friendship swirled in their mind, ‘I wouldn’t wish despair like this on anyone else…’

It was vague images, ones that felt distant enough that they couldn’t recall in full detail, but they were still there...his house- all the sleepovers. He helped them get their hair cut. He helped them with art. He introduced them to all sorts of new media that, looking back then, they realized was what made them who they were now… A small smile drew out of them. He took them in when they almost couldn’t take their home life anymore, for a short time. Laughing together with Kayla...it felt so distant, but the happiness they felt then...it was still real. It was still real to them, throughout all of that.

Still, that hum, that distinct hum from before that they realized had fallen into the background noise was suddenly at the forefront of their attention once more- growing louder and changing frequency, in a way that made it feel like they were burning. Not with any emotion, but just...burning. 

Soon, their thoughts slipped away once more, and with it- the hum died back down once more. 

“All readings are going according to plan.” One scientist said to another, “Though we’re picking up distress and hints of pain after turning up the frequency... Is the machine correctly calibrated?”

“It should be as such, unless…” The technician that talked to the brunette earlier pursed his lips in though, before hissing lightly in annoyance through his teeth, “...Unless the subject has an auditory processing issue. Shit- Turn the frequency down a few notches.”

“But sir, if we do so, the memories will most definitely be unable to resurface. Remember, this science isn’t quite perfect yet- we can’t make expenses for the issue.” One female technician spoke up, adjusting her glasses.

“...” The man bit his nail nervously, before sighing and nodding, “Of course. Continue the procedure.” 

–☆–

“Where is that piece of shit kid?!” It was dark. There was lightning going on outside. Their heart was racing, “I’m going to rip her to shreds!”

‘It’s just a hallucination, god please just let it be a hallucination,’ They thought to themselves, closing their eyes- trying to shut out the feeling of fear- even if their head was pounding. 

“I can’t believe she got another F on a math test- can you believe this?! I work with her constantly on it, and yet it's like she doesn’t even hear me!” The gruff man grumbled, the voice a distinct echo, as the brunette hid their face into their knees. The sounds of screaming, the sounds of banging… the sounds of things being thrown- it made their heart race. But they knew better. These were just their mind playing games on them from the past. Focus. They had to ground themselves, but…

‘I’m so scared, god I’m so damn scared…’ They took a few deep breaths, putting their hands to their ears. Focus. 

‘I’m in my room. It’s summer. There’s rain outside and the...smell of... alcohol... is very strong in the air… M-maybe I should open the window.’ Reaching up, they fiddle with the locks in their window for a few moments before flinging it open, letting the smell of nighttime air and rain pattering to the ground slowly drown out the scent of booze that lingered. In moments, the noise in their ears ebbed, and they were able to breathe again. Thankfully. With a bit more focus, the numbness seeped in, and they felt themselves slowly relax. Numbness...it was the only reprieve from the living nightmare of their heart. Controlling it took practice, and being able to shut everything out...it was their only escape. Even if…

‘...Even if it cost someone their life before because of my neglect…’ They thought to themselves, feeling their focus wane and the anxiety starting to ebb back into their vision.

“It’s okay...it’s okay…” They whispered to themselves as they got up, “It’s...It’s not like that anymore. It’s..It’s okay.” They forced themselves to breathe again, focusing again on keeping that numbness deep in- if only to protect themselves from their own pain. They had to get up. They had things to do. They had to keep going. 

Their feet felt heavy, slowly gliding across their small room and peering out into the hallway. Silence. Somber, peaceful silence- save for the sounds of the television faintly heard from downstairs. Slowly slipping downstairs, a voice greeted them.

“La- I-I mean, Soren?” 

“Y-yeah?” They stuttered out, feigning a smile as they poked their head over to where their father sat on the couch- watching the television screen. He at least tried with them, but still…

“Did you take your medication?”

“I-I’m gonna…” They mumbled sheepishly, their smile flickering a bit.

“Are you okay?”

“.....Y-yeah.” They lied through their teeth- in a manner that was not at all subtle. Part of them wondered if he’d ask, or if he’d just happen to not notice again.

“...Okay.” He smiled, “Don’t forget you start class next week. Hercules High needs you!” 

“R-right…”

“And don’t forget you perform for the next few weeks!”

“I-I do? B-but I thought that wasn’t until next week!” Their shock was portrayed in their tone, feeling their heart race. Summer felt like the only time they got to rest, and even then it didn’t feel like it was long enough to deal with the stress they went under.

“They’re starting volleyball season early, and you know the boss needs you.” He shrugged it off, ignoring the clear concern on their features, which fell to simple stress. A few moments of silence drawled on- to which they felt their phone go off in their pocket. They didn’t look at it for a little while, trying to not start crying at even the slightest thought of performing, before finally speaking up once more in a defeated tone.

“...O-Okay. I’ll g-go take my medication, night dad…” “Night sweetie!”

As they tiptoed away though, walking only on the balls of their feet, one thought only crossed their mind.

‘I need to get out of here. I can’t wait to escape any longer. I can’t wait. I can’t deal with the bullying anymore...I can’t take the manipulation anymore...’ A slow inhale, a slow exhale. They had been preparing it for months. Getting a passport, slowly packing things they would need- including funds to transfer from euros into yen…

‘I have to buy that ticket tonight. The last plane out for the next week.’

Their phone buzzed again, which brought them from their thoughts. Slowly, they sighed, taking out their phone.

‘If anyone can calm me down after this nightmare, it’d be my friends-’ They thought to themselves, until seeing the ID.

[ (Stepmom) 11:34 PM: Have you helped your dad out with his account yet? You have to take care of him you know, he can’t take care of himself. ]

Their blood boiled a bit, and despite themselves they quickly texted back.

[ (Ren) 11:35 PM: ...I’m 16, I shouldn’t have to take care of my own parents. Also, it depends- do you still have my binder hidden away somewhere? ]

[ (Stepmom) 11:37 PM: Your what? ]

[ (Ren) 11:37 PM: You know what it is, because I haven’t seen it since I put it in the wash a month ago. ]

For several minutes, as Ren went about the kitchen preparing their medication, they watched her type, the ‘(...)’ making them nervous as they tapped their fingers along their side. But, eventually…

[ (Stepmom) 11:41 PM: Oh, that. It’s going to hurt you if you wear it, it’s too tight. Honestly, I don’t know why you wear something that physically hurts you, so I threw it out. ]

[ (Ren) 11:41 PM: . . . You what. ]

It took everything in them to not throw their phone at the wall in anger. They saved up for months for that! They just wanted to present as themselves! It wasn’t even that tight compared to other, less safer binders! It fit fine!

[ (Stepmom) 11:43 PM: This is for your own good, darling. After all, you wouldn’t want your chest to start sagging, would you? ]

[ (Ren) 11:44 PM: I told you it fit fine. I told you not to mess with it, and how to properly wash it, and you decide to throw it out? The thing I bought with my own money? ]

[ (Stepmom) 11:45 PM: I told you, it’s for your own good. Besides, this phase of yours with being ‘transgender’ will pass in time. ]

Slow breath, in and out. Their grip on their phone tightened before turning it off altogether, taking very intentional slow breaths so they didn’t outright explode into a fit of anger in the middle of the kitchen.

‘She never fucking understands! I explained it to her so many times, I’ve told her this wasn’t just a phase, I begged her to use my name and let me just exist- but she just...can’t! And my dad never does anything! They’ll never do anything!! I just...I wanna be myself. I can’t take it anymore!’ 

As they gathered their medication, which rested in the kitchen, along with a bottle of water, they looked to their father’s wallet- which rested on the counter. They just needed to pay for the plane ticket... Slowly, they crept over, thinking to themselves, ‘...Am I doing this?’ 

Their grip shakes for a moment, trembling with anxiety- anger, sadness...every emotion at once swirling inside like a broiling soup, ready to boil over...They took a photo of the credit card- front to back, and slipped it back into his wallet.

‘...I have no choice.’

In one blink, they were upstairs. The next, purchasing the next plane ticket out of there. The next, slipping out of their room and onto the lower roof of their 2 floored house. The next, running down the street and down to the bus stop. The next, in an airport. And the next...they were gone. Over the course of the next...several hours...All of this occurred within the next day or so, even if everything felt like a blur. There was anxiety flooding through their veins, slowly breathing in and out.  Looking down while seated in the plane, they noted the transfer papers in their lap. A normal, public high school. They did it. They got out. They were free of everything. Of a shitty, unsupportive home life… of friends who only used them for the money they had, and talked shit behind their back...of the work that dragged them rugged...they were free. 

They were finally, finally....free.

....And slowly, just like that, the awareness came back. The feeling of their hands, their legs, and the emotions that came from those memories.

‘That’s right...I ran away from home to transfer to a normal life...I got a part time job, cut off everyone I knew in the past...and left. It wasn’t even just that my family was...abusive… Or at least at that point, But they were…. Neglectful. Emotionally and mentally neglectful... My father...he didn’t acknowledge how poorly he raised me, forced me to work on my singing abilities even when sick or mentally unwell… put so much pressure on my schoolwork that chores and life-skills took a back seat. My stepmother was transphobic, homophobic...and my mother…’

Their thoughts trailed off for a short moment...before the realization cut their heart in two.

‘I haven’t heard from her since I was 7.’

A crippling feeling of loneliness flooded their thoughts, and they swore they felt warmth trailing down their cheek. They swore they felt this before...they knew this feeling of loneliness, and it felt suffocating. It felt like only until recently...they had never known what it felt like to truly belong somewhere… Shit- they were definitely crying, they felt tears falling off their cheek with what awareness they had of their surroundings, despite their eyes being closed. They tried to reach up, to wipe it off, but they once again felt the tight leather restraints keeping them still. 

“Hey, Deep breaths.” A voice cut through the pain. The technician, “How are you feeling right now?”

Their eyes fluttered a bit, and eventually...opened. Their body felt heavy. It took a moment or two to piece together how their tongue worked again, but then they eventually mumbled between nervous clicks of their tongue. 

“Shitty, thanks,” They sarcastically muttered, “I’m doing as well as I can be. How long has it been?”

“4 hours.” The technician spoke up, “Do you recollect anything from Hopes Peak yet, Ren?”

“...No.” They took a second to gather their thoughts, slowly shaking their head as slightly as they could to try and clear the feeling of static and prickles that surrounded their headspace, “Just...my childhood.” 

“Right. Well, we’re about halfway done. If we tried going past 8 hours...well, we don’t know what sort’ve effect it might have on you.” 

The intercom spoke, as they nodded, taking another breath. They had stopped crying by now.

“How does this equipment work again?” They were a bit curious now, and it's not like they were really paying attention earlier when he probably was explaining it to them. The sigh he gave confirmed this suspicion, and while quietly smothering the instant guilt in their stomach that came with feeling like a burden for making him repeat himself, he spoke.

“It basically delivers electromagnetic waves through your ears and to your brain, and depending on the frequency we put through these waves, it will help drudge up any forgotten memories...That is to say, it is impossible to ‘steal’ memories persay- but with the right technology, repressing them very deeply into your mind is very possible. It takes very miniscule, very specific triggers to drudge them back to the surface. That’s what the humming is- the electromagnetic waves,” He explained, “However, we cannot select what you do and don’t remember...and given you have ADHD, what you do recall can vary greatly. You still might not remember as much as most of your classmates, hence why yours is taking that much longer compared to your peers.”

“ADHD...of course this is the first I’m hearing of it,” They noted, spite in their tone, “Gotta have a word with that shrink later.” Even if, thinking of it then, ADHD clicked perfectly with how they acted and their personality. 

“Soren, please do not nearly break the arm of another psychologist.” 

The technician’s exasperation was heard in his tone, watching the brunette’s dark eyes blink up towards where he was sitting in the window. He was holding what, they could only imagine, was yet another coffee. A small stack sat on the desk next to him.

“Nah, I won’t…” They responded, hiding a hint of a chuckle at his tone...They were about to ask another question before quickly giving the slightest shake of their head to brush it off, “Anyway, let’s keep going, yeah?”

“Right. Ready to go back under? Now, I won’t be able to speak to you again until after the procedure ends. While you’re under, you’re technically unconscious, but after each memory ends- you’re briefly brought back to a slight sense of consciousness to give your head a break. Understand?”

“Gotcha, doc.” Their tone was thick with drowsiness, the slight irish drawl slipping between pursed lips. They were sleepy already… What time was it?

“Right...Good luck, Mx.” 

The hum started back up as he spoke, growing louder until his voice was drowned out altogether. One breath in...One breath out...And their head went slack once more as they fell unconscious. 

–☆–

How is it someone like them got accepted here again?

They honestly had no clue. Extensive testing, sure, they were a decent learner...but their emotional capabilities were apparently one to behold. Sure, they knew they helped a student down and away from suicide, but honestly? Anyone could really do that. Either way, after further examination, they were the designated ‘Ultimate Empath’...Jeez, what the HELL were they doing here?

‘But I mean...if those rumors I heard are true, I’ll be set for life,’ They thought to themselves, shyly posted up in the main hall- watching slowly students trickle in of all ages, ‘And I don’t want to work a part-time job for the rest of my life.’ 

Some were talking amongst themselves, others kept to themselves but...they were amongst the latter, arms nervously crossed over their torso. Amongst orientation, they would be introduced to the classes specifically picked for each individual student, and fitted into proper ‘Hopes Peak’ uniforms….you know, the same ones no one seemed to really wear- if the appearance of some upperclassmen were any indication. 

But they, personally? They didn’t want to make themselves too known within the class. After all, they knew there were missing posters for their deadname so if they weren’t careful…

‘I can’t go back home. I can’t. But also...do I really belong here?’

Looking around, the energy of everyone seemed so...so different...compared to them. So much stronger, mentally and physically. Confident. Cheerful. Perfect.

‘...Maybe I shouldn't be here.’ Their thoughts started walking away with them as they slowly started backing over towards the door…

Only to run into someone- causing both of them to start to stumble. 

“Eep-!” 

          “Whoa!”

They felt the person behind them, though, trip, and suddenly, they were on the floor, on top of this poor unfortunate soul. A few moments of silence pass, a few classmates piping in, asking if they were both okay, before Ren slowly sat up, rubbing their head… only to realize they probably nearly crushed the person below them, and jumping up to their feet. 

“Oh my gods, I'm so sorry!” Their voice came out as a shrill squeak, slightly muffled as their hands clasped over their mouth in anxious surprise.

“Ah, jeez-” The boy in question they watched as he rubbed the back of his head, “I-it’s alright, really… Should’ve watched what was in front of me.” He laughed softly, and they looked away.

They wouldn’t lie...he was pretty cute.

“D-did you just walk in? I-I mean, it’s normal not to notice me...I’m pretty short.” They asked and explained themselves, fiddling with their fingers.

“Yeah, I did...and believe me-” He got up himself, standing not much taller than the brunette in question, probably around 5’2”-5’3” or so compared to their 4’10”, “I’m...Not much better in terms of height.”

There was a bewildered silence for a few moments, before the two in question bursted into a small fit of laughter, doubled over in their fit of snickers. As a result, they relaxed a bit, calming down around this boy. 

“I’m guessing you’re also in my class then?” They asked, wiping away a small tear from their eye.

“Yeah, actually. What’s your name?” Olive eyes met their own, and they tried everything in their being to keep from squeaking shyly at the eye contact.

“N-Name’s Soren. U-Ultimate Empath. And you?” They offered a hand to him, despite themselves. The boy in question chuckled, taking their hand in his own and giving a soft squeeze as he shook their hand.

“Makoto Naegi...I-I’m the Ultimate Lucky Student, apparently.” He spoke, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. Ren tilted their head, curious.

“Luck student? How the hell do you measure luck…?” They asked, obliviously. Makoto sighed, looking a bit downcast, and they could practically see the insecurity written in his body language and face.

“It’s a long story...But honestly, it’s...kinda ridiculous.” He mumbled, “Not sure if someone like you would wanna hear about it.”

“No, no.” They quickly shook their head, not retracting their hand and instead putting their other hand on his, leaning a bit closer with intrigue written on their features, “I wanna know… If you’re comfortable talking about it, of course. I mean…” They tilted their head, “It’s weird feeling different from the other Ultimates, huh?”

His eyes widened, caught off guard, “How did you…” They grinned a bit, a soft smile, “Empath, remember? I can sense your distress about being here...I can sense your nerves. You don’t...feel like you belong, do you?” They asked.

Makoto blinked for a few moments, eyes searching theirs for any sign of joking, before sighing and relaxing a bit. Right.

“Spot on, I guess. Alright, alright, I’ll spill. But you best not tell anyone else, okay?” Makoto put a finger to his lips, a curl of a joking smirk on their face. At that moment, they noticed the faint sprinkling of freckles across his face, the slight dimples in his features when he grinned...Their heart jumped a bit, and they laughed.

“I won’t tell a soul.”

In one blink, there they were talking to Makoto, and in the next…

“Ren?” Looking over, they found themselves in a different environment. They were seated outside, underneath a tree, with a few other girls around them. If memory serves right… 

‘This is Chihiro, Celestia, and Asahina.’ Their memory clicked perfectly back together.

“Hey!” It was Hina talking, “Dude, are you okay? You were spacing out pretty hard there.”

Ren blinked a bit, before shyly chuckling and looking away, “Ah, yeah, I’m okay. That just...tends to happen.” 

Hina blinks a bit before shaking her head, “Well, yeah, clearly. You should really get that checked out you know! If you can’t even focus on food, how will you be able to focus in class?! I mean, midterm exams are coming up soon you know.”

“...A Lot of studying.” They chuckled nervously, biting their nails, “Still, I just have a lot on my mind lately, I guess.”

“A- A-lot on your mind?” Chihiro spoke up, blinking and leaning a bit closer towards Ren, “D-does it have to do w-with studying?” “...No, I wouldn’t say that…” They mumbled, shyly, looking down at their food and taking a shy bite.

‘How can I tell them everything that goes on in my head? How can I tell them that it's a fight everyday to survive? How can I explain...that something’s wrong with me?’

Simply put, they couldn’t. They managed a small smile and chuckled.

“Just thinking of boys, I guess.” They quickly averted the actual subject- unknowing of them setting themselves up for disaster.

“Oooh?” Asahina got a mischievous grin on her face, “Any particular boys?”

Their face flushed...it was no secret to any of them that they, simply put, were a bit smitten.

“Noooooo….?” They lied through their teeth, even if their goofy grin gave them away.

“Not even a particular luckster?” Celeste leaned in a bit, joining in on the teasing with her own little devilish grin, giggling quietly as the brunette interrogated squeaked shyly and hid their face in their hands, the image of the Ultimate in question immediately flooding their thoughts.

“Nooo!!!” They tried to protest, shaking their head rapidly. The group of girls giggled, Chihiro wrapping an arm around the brunette’s neck in an attempt to reassure them.

“You’re going to have to ask him out eventually, you know, before Sayaka beats you to it.” Asahina said with a cheeky grin. Their smile faltered slightly. 

“No, no. I shouldn’t meddle...I’d feel bad.”

“Even if he clearly has no romantic interest in her?” Celeste spoke up, red eyes widening a bit, “That is to say, I’ve only seen him so starstruck around you particularly, my dear.”

Ren’s face flushed even brighter, biting their lip shyly, “Noo, he definitely wouldn’t want someone like me…” Their self consciousness was starting to show, “I mean, I’m just a nosy empath with gender issues. Sayaka is...a literal popstar.” 

“And? Popstar or no, you still have something special about you that Naegi senses! Cmon, Ren, be a bit more confident in yourself!” Hina rebutted, determination glittering in her bright blue eyes before giggling and shoving a baked treat into her mouth.

“I-I’m plenty confident in myself!” ‘I...I think.’ They left that last bit out, looking away to bite their lip in uncertainty.

The rest of the girls shared a mutual doubtful, somewhat concerned look, before shaking their heads.

“Tell us that when you manage to ask Naegi out yourself, dear.” Celeste concluded, delicately eating at some sparse vegetables she had served herself, smiling sweetly towards her.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” They huffed, blushing with a slight pout as they idly drank at the sugary drink that sat next to them. It tasted sweet, and reminded them of peaches… Peach soda. Huh.

Still, looking over to the tree next to them, they spotted Makoto amongst some of the guys- laughing alongside Ishimaru, Sayaka, Kyoko, and Yasuhiro...and found their heart sinking a bit in their chest.

‘He’d...never fall for someone like me. It’s not like I’m extraordinary or anything… I’m not like the rest of the Ultimates here.’ They thought to themselves, feeling their mood start to shift. However, the next moment, his eyes met theirs and he smiled, offering a shy wave- and they felt their heart start to race all over again.

‘...Still. I’ll...I’ll stay hopeful for it. It never hurts to dream, right?’

Slowly, the memory faded into nothing once more, and while they didn’t open their eyes again, they felt the sense of their surroundings return once again.

‘Hopes Peak Academy...I never expected I’d get in, especially while I was a runaway...but when I did, it changed my life. For the first time I had friends. I had people I cared about...but at the time, I was so wrapped up in my own trauma, in my own depression...I just didn’t notice. I thought I was alone..’ They thought to themselves, a curl of a small smile on their features, ‘...And my love for Makoto...it goes even beyond the Killing School Life...Gods, Hina isn’t going to let me live THAT down anytime soon if she remembers that.’

Still...there was something about knowing their classmates...truly KNOWING their classmates now, compared to back then...that hurt their heart even more.

‘...They all deserved so much better… None of them deserved to die. None of them deserved to be murdered...none of them deserved to suffer the way we all did. I hope they’re doing okay in the everafter…’ 

Still, as sweet as the memory was, they had to continue. They had to keep going down memory lane. And, it seemed everyone else agreed, as the electromagnetic humming started once again, filling their head with noise. This one felt more abrupt, more sharp, and suddenly they were groaning in pain a bit. Whatever was going on, it hurt...it actually really, really hurt-

“I-Is...is everything...okay??” They managed to open an eye slightly… Only to notice the panic in the technician’s faces. Was something going wrong??? Why did this hurt so badly and all of a sudden- it felt like their head might burst from the pain that came from the sound. 

...They had little time to ask, as within the next moment the world spun back into oblivion once again.

–☆–

“Soooooreeeen~!” 

A cheerful voice brought them to their senses, a thin thumb running over their cheek and wiping a tear from their eyes.

“Hey, are you listening to yourself?” Junko. One of Ren’s newer friends- though she’s been the most honest to them about everything going on.

“I-I ah….s-sorry. I guess I was rambling again, huh?” They looked over to her. They were sitting in an abandoned classroom, the blonde in question was sitting on one of the desks, looking down at them through empty, crystalline eyes.

“Yeah, you were totally out of it.” She chuckled, a smirk on her face, “I can’t believe how heartbroken you look, but honestly? It’s really cute.”

“Oh shutup-” They blushed a bit, looking away, “I-It’s...it’s nothing.”

“Oh really? Even though Makoto is going on what’s totally a date with Sayaka?” Junko leaned into their face, “It’s okay to feel that, y’know? It’s totally okay to let those feelings manifest into something quite...gorgeous. Wouldn’t you agree? It’s like you said, right?” “...There's beauty in everything. Even the worst bits of life…Even in the pain.” They repeated, another tear falling down their cheek.

“There we go… It’s really sad, how you’re literally the side character to your own life, you know? How often Asahina and the others just go off on their own without you?...Well, at least I’m here, you know?” Junko grinned a bit as they nodded, slowly.

“Yeah…”

“Junko...We do have a plan to discuss, you know…” A voice caught both of their attention, and looking towards the corner of the room, Mukuro Ikusaba. A sweet girl with dark black hair and another array of freckles. If they weren’t so bent out of shape with Makoto, honestly Mukuro was also very cute…

“Oh shutup!” Junko’s high pitch voice cut through their gay thoughts, quickly looking back to the blonde, “Anyway, let’s go over the plan I came up with! Alright?”

“Okay…” Mukuro nodded quietly, submitting to her sister’s behavior once again with a passive smile. This seemed to be quite the pattern with these two, and Ren wondered if all siblings acted like this...

“So, I heard some super super secret news about how this whole...event that happened at the school is only going to get worse,” Junko explained, “But with the rest of the outside world. We’re pretty sure that the school will lock up a bunch of us in here, and we want to make things that much more fun for everyone.”

“...Okay…?” Ren raised an eyebrow, concerned.

“We want you to be the one to get back at them.” 

“Huh?”

“You know!! Beat up everyone who keeps abandoning you! Your so called ‘friends’ and your ‘crush’ who abandon you when you need them the most? The ones who clearly couldn’t care less about you? Don’t you want to get back at them?” Junko leaned in towards Ren, who bit their lip, shaking their head.

“N-No...No of course not...I-I mean, they have lives of their own, they shouldn’t have to pay all their attention to me all the time…”

“Even when they clearly forget about you all the time? When you almost killed yourself at the end of last year?” Junko’s eyes stared into Ren’s soul, and they felt...almost violated by the eye contact.

“...E-even so...I-I wouldn’t hurt them…”

“So what are you gonna do? Turn tail and run back to Ireland? Back to your family?” They still don’t know HOW Junko found out about their past- as far as everyone else knew, they were just an Ireland transfer student.

“...N-No, of course not.”

“So, you’ll stay. And play our game.” Junko smiled, “Okay?”

“I…”

“I wouldn’t want something...devastating happening to your dear Naegi, would you?” Junko’s grin turned almost sadistic as she spoke, harshly grabbing their face, “So, you’ll play our game, right?”

Their heart stopped...if Makoto was going to put in danger.......no, they’d do anything in their power to make sure that happened, even if- for the time being- they had to play along.

“...Yes...yes of course.” They mumbled, cheeks squished.

“Good! Besides, it’s not like you’re killin’ em or anything! Not unless you wanna, then of course I’ve got your back on that!” Junko chuckled a bit, letting go of their face, watching as they rubbed their cheeks.

“I-I’d...I’d never kill anyone…”

“Oh dear, we’ll see.”

Junko got up from her seat, slowly approaching Ren and cornering them in their chair.

“J-Junko?...” Their eyes widened, “What are you doing?” 

“Hmm...I just want to show you something. Is that okay?” The blonde grinned, tilting their chin up, “After that, we can further discuss this prank of ours.”

“...N-Noo…?” They had a bad feeling about it, but Junko didn’t seem to listen. They quickly got up to leave, they suddenly didn’t feel safe in the room alone with her- but they felt their arm yanked back, and pinned back into the next desk. 

“J-Junko-!”

The blondes bright eyes appeared in their vision next, her grin a bit sharper than it probably should be.

“Mukuro, hold them down, I want to watch how they react to this video…”

...Something happened during that day. Something that...even to their mind's eye, was fuzzy. They remembered that they started crying again at one point, they remember they felt violated- but they didn’t know why. They don’t remember what happened. They don’t remember how they felt after- or if they even felt anything...But all they could recall after was a faint whisper of a voice, menacing yet dripping with faux sweetness.

“You’ll make them all pay for what they did to you, right?”

“Yes, Junko.”

…

“Junko?”

“Ohmygod- Yeeees?”

“...Let my memory get erased too. I promise I’ll still follow up on my deal. I...I’ll still have my anger, I’ll still have that aggression. I promise. Just...wipe my memory alongside everyone else. So I don’t spill our little secret. Okay?”

 “....Fine.”

–☆–

In that brief moment, they suddenly jolted upright- body trembling and a pained gasp leaving their lungs. They- they couldn’t breathe all of a sudden, and everything suddenly felt so loud-

The primary technician who ran the whole ordeal ran inside, quickly detaching the device and kneeling down in front of Ren.

“Soren?! Hey, can you hear me?!” No. No they couldn’t. All they could think about was how sick they felt, how suddenly suicidal they felt. Were they drowning? Why couldn’t they breathe?!

‘I agreed to hurt people for Junko...S-she manipulated me...she hurt me...to get me to play her game. To keep me from leaving before shit hit the fan...Fuck. Fuck, if I followed through on any of her ideas…To think I agreed to HER game- God I’m a fucking idiot!’ Their thoughts were running at a thousand miles an hour, struggling to breathe. Their hands were tugging desperately on their restraints, unsure if they wanted to hold their throat in attempts to try and breathe again, or if they wanted to claw at their arms until they bled.

They shook their head violently, and in the next moment- with little warning aside from their stomach doing a complete 180- doubled over in their chair and threw up right into their lap. The technician, alarmed, quickly rang up their psychologist who was a few floors down, to provide assistance. 

Everything in their vision swam. They conspired with Junko to hurt people. They conspired with Junko...they...they enabled the Killing Game before it even started.

They puked again. They felt like they might throw up their lungs next, at this rate.

Why were they alive? Why did they have to be the one alive?! They kept making one mistake after another- and this just proved it! This just proved how fucked up they were. How dangerous they were to others.

“Ren- Ren, tell me what you saw!” The technician grabbed their shoulders, trying to get them to focus. Their trashing just got worse. “No! No- No let go of me! Let go of me! I- I can’t breathe- oh my god what did I do!?” Their voice was hoarse from the acidic bile in their throat, struggling not to get sick even more. 

“What did you see?! What did you recall?!” The technician kept trying to talk to them, which only resulted in overwhelming them all the more. The last thing they can completely remember after abruptly waking up from their memory revitalization- was screaming at the top of their lungs. They just wanted to die- they didn’t deserve to live for working with Junko- for working with despair. Frankly, they wished they had died instead of recalling anything at all.

They…frankly don’t remember the next hour or so. They remember faces, eyes, voices speaking to them...a needle being put into their arm…

And soon, they calmed down a bit, feeling sluggish and heavy. Everything felt a bit fuzzy at the edges of their mind as the screaming- both physically and mentally- all but stopped. 

‘Sedatives,’ The thought connected briefly, before the word escaped them altogether in the cloud of drugs. Their psychologist helped them to their feet-- when did they get onto the floor of the laboratory?-- and out of the lab.

Being barely supported under their arm, they basically dragged their feet back to their shared apartment room within their sector’s building with Makoto. Their psychologist stuck by their side until they were able to walk easier, before heading off to schedule a few more appointments in the very near tomorrow. They had a feeling they’d be busy tomorrow, if they even had the energy to get up. 

They remember looking at the time...But they don’t remember what it was. Late, they figured. They stumbled inside, nearly falling on their face as they held their head, still trying to wrap their mind around everything they remembered.

The slight shifting from one of the rooms in the apartment got their attention though, and within another blink Makoto was at their side- helping them stand up a bit and trying to help them into bed. His mouth moved, and they acknowledged that he was saying something to them...but it took a few moments before anything he said actually was heard by them. When they were, they looked up a bit more at him, to which he sighed. 

“What happened?” He asked them, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Their eyes watered a bit, mumbling a quiet, ‘I’m so so sorry...I’m… I failed everyone here…’ 

“Failed? Ren?” He sat them down, clasping their hand, “You had the memory recovery procedure today right? What happened?”

“...I-I can’t...I can’t tell you.” They mumbled, eyes squeezed shut, “You’d hate me. Everyone would...I-I can’t… I can’t take it…” They shook their head, breathing starting to go shallow again as Makoto quickly waved his hands in mild panic.

“Hey, hey, calm down, calm down! It’s going to be okay. Y-you don’t need to talk about it right now, okay? Everything’s okay.” He reassured them, concerned and slightly panicked, “I could never hate you, Ren…” “...” They wanted to scream, they wanted to explain everything to those eyes, they wanted to prove him wrong. They wanted to prove that they should be hated, especially after what they’ve done...but they just felt too tired. They felt too scared...they felt too insecure to admit to it.

“Just rest for now, okay? I’ll bring you some water, and..” He noticed how stained their clothes were, and his nervous smile faltered, “And a change of clothes, apparently, yikes… Do you need anything else?”

“...Medication…” They mumbled quietly, tossing off their shirt and pants without much mind to it, “Please…”

“...Right, okay.” He faltered a bit and quickly looked away from their frame, getting back to his feet, “You rest up for a bit, and I’ll...I’ll get what you need, okay?”

“Okay…” “I love you…” ‘You wouldn’t if you knew what I did…’

Laying down, they felt their eyes flutter as the sedatives further kicked in, feeling their consciousness start to slip…

“I love you too.”

[rascheln]

Okay, so I’ve been rewatching the series and while I don’t dislike s3, I really wish the writing hadn't deviated so much in tone from the previous seasons. Especially:

 1. How it leaned so heavily into the exaggerated humor, to the point of reducing characters more into caricatures of themselves (compared to how they were portrayed previously). 

To add to this (since I’m trying to figure out how to write him) the longer I looked at the scenes with Steve, I can definitely understand why many people say about his s3 version that it completely erased whatever depth he had previously. Hell, look at his very first appearance in s3: Steve is supposed to be experienced with flirting and getting girls to like him. imo even his fall from grace shouldn’t have erased that ability. If he had successfully flirted with the girls, but then enthusiastically greeted Dustin with their dorky fist bump, we’d have gotten a much better reminder of who Steve used to be, combined with the fact that he’s  become more comfortable with being more genuine and having made new friends. Making him appear completely inept takes away a lot of nuance the contrast from even such a small interaction could have brought.

2. How the entire Russian villains plotline was handled. The fact that they chose to immediately show in the first episode that the Russians were opening another gate pretty much ruined all the tension and severity this threat should have been. Like, if we look at how genuinely terrifying the government agents were in s1, coupled with the mystery of the existence of the Upside Down, the Russians are just cartoon villains in comparison.  Take out the “the Russians are behind this” reveal scenes from the beginning of the season. Turn the entire Scoops Troop investigation into a more silly “haha what if” scenario, more motivated by the boredom of a bunch of teens that turns into a genuine nightmare when it turns out that they were right. Give everyone who encounters the Russian Conspiracy much more skepticism and paranoia. Give these people some genuine fear, without immediately revealing if that fear is justified.  And ffs, give that torture scene some severity. Making the confrontation with the leaders of the villains of that season into a comic book-like scene once again completely downplayed how terrifying and dangerous it should have been. It also took away any perceived threat from the villains. 

Even Billy and Steve fighting in s2, with Billy beating Steve unconscious left enough room for the audience to have a moment of “holy shit, this is not good”. Yes, there was a bunch of humor centering around the kids taking action and incapacitating Billy and taking his car- but it was cut short with the reality of having to go into the tunnels. There was a certain balance between humor and severity and man, s3 did not have it.

[scoutbert]

I experienced psychosis. This is what I want people to know.

TW: talks of mental illness, mention of suicidal thoughts/ideation.

I don't really talk about this that much because there is SO much stigma and misinformation. Like so bad. And it's really personal and I feel like people get shit on for talking openly about it "too much" or whatever. But I have experienced psychosis and occasionally I get some symptoms of it. Most people hear "psychosis" and immediately think of something like a naked man running around in public, or someone wearing a tinfoil hat to keep the government out of their brain. While those things can and do happen, that's more of a generalized stereotype. Experiencing psychosis is NOT the same as having schizophrenia; psychosis is a symptom rather than an illness. Psychotic episodes may last a few hours or several weeks. Below I have a list of some experiences people who are psychotic may experience. The parts in asterisks are those I have firsthand experienced.

Behavioral: aggression, agitation, *disorganized behavior*, hostility, *hyperactivity*, hypervigilance, lack of restraint, nonsense word repetition, persistent repetition of words or actions, *repetitive movements, restlessness, self-harm*, or *social isolation*

Cognitive: belief that an ordinary event has special and personal meaning, belief that thoughts aren't one's own, *confusion, difficulty thinking and understanding, disorientation, false belief of superiority, memory loss, racing thoughts, slowness in activity, thought disorder, thoughts of suicide, or unwanted thoughts*

Mood: anger, *anxiety, apathy, excitement, feeling detached from self, general discontent, limited range of emotions, loneliness, or nervousness*

Psychological: *depression, fear, hearing voices*, manic episode, *paranoia, persecutory delusion*, religious delusion, or *visual hallucinations*

Speech: deficiency of speech, *excessive wordiness*, incoherent speech, or *rapid and frenzied speaking*

Also common: *nightmares* or tactile hallucination

Most likely, someone who is in psychosis is NOT VIOLENT OR A THREAT. People with mental illness are as likely to be violent or criminal as neurotypical people. Most aggression stems from the beliefs of being persecuted or confused and disoriented.

When I was 15 I had an acute psychotic episode. I was hearing 2 voices, both of which basically kept telling me to kill myself whenever I was near something I could harm myself with. Walking over a bridge, near a highway/train tracks, cutting food, shaving, etc. I had nightmares every night about being chased and hunted by the mundane people in my life- teachers, doctors, family, friends. My grades plummeted at school because I barely knew what was going on. I had few friends. It was terrifying and lonely. I went to Butler Hospital (inpatient) and was stabilized but over medicated. Seroquel. Terrible drug. Killed the voices but made me gain a lot of weight and fall asleep constantly in public. I stopped taking it because I became convinced my doctors were part of a gigantic corporate scam to poison my "brilliant mind" specifically to stop me from being a whistleblower, a savior of the people so to speak. I am mostly stable now.

Lately I have been having a *few* symptoms. Mild ones- mild enough I have insight that I am experiencing them, rather than not having insight and being duped by the symptoms. I believe these are the product of certain substances I use recreationally. As a result, I am going to stop doing them.

The reason I wrote this post is because I am starting to realize sometimes the people around me might notice some of these behaviors from me. I may say things that don't make sense, only have "loose associations" to the conversation, talk too fast, too much, or use too many words to get a relatively simple point across. Or even fail to get a point across. I may not hear you at all, I may look like my brain is a thousand miles away, I might say strange things. You may notice me "zoning out" but I may be focusing on a subtle hallucination, which consists of psychedelic-looking overlay on normal items such as geometric figures, or warping of figures. I may seem nervous or fidgety/make repetitive movements like rocking. I might laugh inappropriately (when something isn't that funny or doesn't make sense to be laughed at) or have a lack of appropriate emotional response to certain things (not crying to very sad things, or being very emotional/angry over very little things.) Some of these are cross-occurring due to being depressed and having PTSD.

I want the people in my life to know I'm not a danger to them. I am in counseling, I'm on medications, I know when it's time to seek a higher level of care (hospitalization.) I ask for empathy, understanding, support and most importantly, your patience. I'm still the same Scout. All these things have affected my life for 5 years and I barely told anyone. In fact I'm pretty sure everyone who reads this didn't know most of this about me.

I really need people to educate themselves on this because the media is full of horseshit. It is a disgusting lack of truth and rife with stereotypes/misinformation. I also request that er stop throwing the words "psycho" and "delusional" around as insults to people we don't like/disagree with because it furthers the stigma and reutilizes the MEDICAL language so important to my life. I see everyone calling for people to be more sensitive about saying they're "so bipolar/OCD/ADHD" as casual adjectives rather than tangible disorders and also call for that same energy to be applied to things such as psychosis/mania/etc.

If anyone has any questions please PM me privately. Thanks.

[bakusbabygirl]

Dead Girl Walking Pt.1 (Mobster!Tom Holland x Reader)

Hey everyone! I’ve been inspired to make a mobster!Tom Holland and it’s gonna be multi-chapter. Also gonna be a bit of a slow burn. Really freaking hoping this is gonna end up well

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

Innocent and young (y/n) stumbles upon a scene that should have been left forgotten. She then gets roped into a world of drugs, guns, and fighting for her life at every second. Going against all her morals and everything her dear old daddy taught her she sticks around to find out what all the excitement is about. Even if the mobster king doesn’t want her there.

——————-

You should have payed more attention to the directions the bar tender gave. Although the club was almost unbearably loud it wasn’t that hard to hear what she had been saying; your attention wasn’t there. It was on a man, that looked no older than 21, that was sitting in the VIP lounge all night. Your best friend had told you many a times to ‘go get him’ and claimed that he's been watching you too but your confidence was at its all time low due to you catching your ex-boyfriend with an insanely attractive girl. That actually explains why you're at this club in the first place. Lydia, your close friend, thought it would be a good idea to get you shit-faced to forget him but you’re not the one currently drunk off your ass-Lydia is. Which doesn’t help with anything that has happened in the past week.

Anyway, sidetracked there for a minute, your bladder was about to explode and you just needed to find one place that was quieter and less hot than the main room. You could have sworn the lady said two lefts then the first door on the right but was sorely mistaken. You were stranded outside in the chilly Miami night with nothing but the skimpy black dress Lydia stuffed you in. The only way out was down the dark damp alley way that lead to the front. With a slight groan and heavy sigh you speed walk down the alley to attempt to avoid the rats that were hidden in the shadows. 

“So what do you expect me to do about your mess up?”

“I’m sorry it was an accident,” The man whimpered. The conversation halted you in your tracks. To the right of you was another alley that didn’t seem to have an end. Three men stood there in the very dim lighting.

“You know we can’t have accidents,” Your heart slowed as a gun was shoved in the shortest mans’ face and the wind knocked out of you as the bullet flew through his forehead. The body dropped all to slow for reality and your breath caught in your throat-neither wanting to leave or enter your body. Your own figure frozen in place.

“Damn it Harrison you weren’t suppose to do that here,” The large man standing next to him hissed. ‘Harrison’ had his words on the tip of his tongue; then he spotted you.

“Shit,” he gasped. Your feet moved before your brain recognized and your body went flying faster than it had ever been before. The pounding footsteps behind me echoed off the brick walls like gun shots. Ironic. You rounded the corner with only one plan in your head. Get. The. Hell. Away. Maybe dive into the crowd and shove someone over to get to a cab. Alrighty sounds like a plan. What could possibly go...it went wrong. It went so very wrong.

“Woah, slow down there princess,” your body collided with someone you didn’t know and frankly didn’t care.

“Sorry,” the word left your lips with no meaning to them. You slid right past the boy, only focused on getting to the cab pulling up beside the curb. You race over to the yellow car now parked. You shove the dude ready to get into the car and drag the lady by the back of her dress onto the concrete floor. Diving into the back seat, you slammed the door behind you and screamed at the driver to drive.  He pulled out of the side of the road, terrified to disobey you.

“I’m so sorry!” you shout out the window at the angry pair, upset that you just postponed their sex for at least another 20 minutes. In your opinion you were doing them a favor. You could have just prevented and unwanted child tonight! So, so far you’re getting two wins out of this rapidly declining night. Prevented death of you and prevented an unwanted child. Glancing back to the alley opening you see the two men standing with the one and only hot VIP guy. Come on! Of freaking course the hot guy that you like at the club is a murderer. What are the odds.

Your eyes locked with his brown orbs and you squealed. Your head was pulled in so quickly that you hit the back of it on the car. You hissed and cupped the wound with your hand applying pressure to bring your attention away from it.

“Shit! Lydia!” you snatched your phone from your hand purse and quickly dialed her number. Aaaaaaaand straight to voicemail. Wonderful.

“Ummm where am I taking you?” The frightened car guy stuttered. 

“I am so sorry, I totally forgot you were here. Can you take me to 34th street?” The blonde hair guy nodded and skidded down the street. Almost all stress left you as you relaxed into the nasty car seats but that was by far the last thing on your mind.

The man driving screeched to a halt at the corner of your street. You absentmindedly pushed a 20 into the front seat and slipped out of the cab. The yellow cab left as soon as it came leaving you to your paranoia. 

Your apartment was cold and dark when you first walked in. Turning on the lights didn’t ease the dark feeling in the pit of your stomach. You tossed your heels in some corner of your living room and plopped down on your couch. The excitement and adrenaline of the night fled your body.

What the hell did you just witness? You witnessed a murder and you never wanna remember it again. Yet your brain has a funny way of doing that since the episode kept going on over and over and over again. It was a nightmare. A nightmare that followed you into your sleepless hours.

Part 2

[hazelcephalopod]

The Eye of the World Ch 19-20

Disclaimer: this is my first read thru but I’ve watched the first 4 episodes of the show and been spoiled on some things. So… I’m going to lean into that. Enjoy figuring out what I know and what I think in know and what I don’t. Also s/x I add commentary when I edit.

Spoilers for the first book under the cut.

Immediate impression: in Shadar Logoth the group flees on a wild ride filled with terror and melancholy. Just an unrelenting assault throughout.

Warning under the cut. Also it’s a long one.

Warning: these chapters are filled with horror, anxiety and paranoia. (Btw I suspect that may become a common theme but feel it’s prudent to include this at this point) AKA Shadar Logoth is it’s own warning.

Ch 19

(Shadar Logoth aka Cosmic horror nightmare fuel)

I don’t care if the Ravens are evil. I like them.

Ah Roman ruins. I mean (probably not really) but… I like how the show adapted the city even tho it was different from this

Oh he was. Thom definitely was

I like how many size comparisons are comparing the sizes of inns. That is all. In general everything is based on things that Rand has seen before and I think it’s well done personally

I mean maybe it was?

Nynaeve: yes I hate her [Moiraine]. Yes I will do my utmost to keep her healthy and alive. What contradiction?

…& I love her

Oh shit wrote that before Nynaeve even said it.

I keep guessing things. But ya know what? I like being right so no complaints

“The fact is…” -Nynaeves’s favorite phrase of the day

What doesn’t she know?

Lol. Again

Damn you Rand walking out at the good part! I wanna know about the herbs!

(Also foxtail sounds familiar… foxglove???)

Sure it’s just normal dust…

Perrin- “get back here and do your work Mat!”

“It’s as if a dead man was speaking with my mouth.” -Mat on the old tongue warcry he did earlier. He does not know the old tongue. Sounds unsettling yea

Damn Thom you really don’t like that huh? Afraid of the dead? (I am)

I love teenagers- yea let’s go wandering around the old abandoned city with few signs of life beside dead plants. That feels like a fun way to spend the evening.

“Did you ever even dream of a place like this?” -Mat to Perrin and Rand about Shadar Logoth. Mm, yea… and Rand is like “oh I hate that. Yup. This is familiar”. I lit. right after “Nothing like the city in his first dream, but just the same” -(Rand, thinking in reply)

“There isn’t any treasure here. There isn’t anything but dust.” -Perrin at Mat’s suggestion they look for treasure in Shadar Logoth. >.>

Lan…? Noo no it’s not. (I soon learn how wrong I was) That’s worse. That’s creepy. Why is anyone else here? No one else should be here

Also staying inside? Most of these buildings no longer have an inside

He’s Mordeth. Not a name that inspires mistrust at all /s (sry to anyone who is named Mordeth and sry about ur name)

Yea the list of things they recognize and actually know is sporadic and limited

Also that’s sus. And he’s calling it Aridhol too. So… very sus

Stop telling people things Rand! Especially strange men in the shadows

Thank you Perrin! This is weird!

“A treasure hunter” Bullshit!

Doesn’t appear to know Caemlyn???

Oh yes he’s not left the shadow enough to make out his face. Great. I’m sure that’s fine /s

Mat! Mat! No! Get back… you little shit

‘And the boys were never seen again because the shadow man ate them.’ -Nynaeve (probably)

Yup just go into the darkness with the strange man in the creepy city

“It’s awful dark down here.” -Mat, uneasily, down in the pitch black place Mordeth has led them. You little shit

“There was something odd about him, Rand thought…” just pick up on that buddy? At least you’re here to stick with Mat tho. Maybe just everything is wrong with him, Mordeth that is. Everything.

Too clean. Agreed on that.

Holy fuck they actually found treasure

That shit is so fucking cursed or something I bet. All of it. Not just some. All.

He doesn’t have a shadow? That’s… that is weird but honestly? Not the strangest thing *I’ve* noticed. Like yes, probably not good but… (vigorous head shaking)

I love them. They’re woolheaded dipshits I love them but damn

This is like when the dnd party all fail/get just under what they really need on their insight and perception checks until the DM finally throws them a bone. (& then wrecks them)

What the fuck?! That is cronenberg shit! What?! (Understandably left out of show, that would be difficult to translate)

“Mat… clutching a dagger snatched from the trove”

Turned into a shadow?!

Uhhh magic?

Uhh what the hell was that then? Who was that guy? What the fuck was he?

No listen to Perrin!

Yes. Drag him away from the danger place of horror and terror!

Oh fuck. No don’t like this. No. Nope. “Something was watching them from the darkness… The watchers followed them. Or there were lots of watchers, lots of eyes… He did not know which would be worse. Thousands of eyes, or just a few, following them.” -eotw, in Shadar Logoth. [see my other post]

Holy fuck that is a nightmare.

Mmm… don’t like that she knows that name much more than I’d like if she didn’t

Sadly probably not Perrin

Idk Mat… I mean on the one hand. Yes. Probably should have warned y’all more because you’re clearly woolheaded -hope I’m using that word right- twerps. But also… maybe listen to Perrin next time?even Rand? Even he had the good sense that something was kinda wrong

Dude. Weren’t you the one who heard her argue with Lan to not come here?

Rand sweety plz. He didn’t have a shadow, appeared to blow up like a balloon and then turned into a shadow and slipped thru a crack in the wall. Clearly not just a man

‘The whole story is too long to tell but here are the footnotes as long as what I already told you’ it’s a real good thing I love lore drops

Mashadar?

Ok that’s just like cosmic horror. Yea? He fucks with your head, eats your soul and steals your body all while living in this creepy ass cursed shadow city. Which isn’t even near the dark ones lands

I mean at least it’s easier to swallow that maybe that’s why they followed him. But honestly… it’s a toss up imho

He has!

“… a sword placed in his infant hands.” -Moiraine on Lan. I really hope that’s a metaphor

“Besides, I would know the minute of his death and the way of it, just as he would know mine.” -Moiraine. How unsettlingly comforting

Man. The attention to detail, like I’m pretty sure I could work out the exact time based on the moon cycle. Because I remember it started on the full moon and now we are near the waning crescent. So assuming a cycle similar to ours that’s what? Almost half a month? Just… good little details showing such care and attention

How you even fell asleep is a mystery. I assume Moiraine helped

“…who shouted he wanted his hand.” -part of the dream Rand woke from

Oh shit they went in? Trollocs?

“What forced the Myrddraal?” -Lan (on why they entered SL). Terrifying question.

For the time being???

Man I hope that’s true. I believe it. Go Nynaeve!

We’ll time to run again and cross a River I guess.

Ch 20

Edit- forgot to put this section in my bad.

Hey it’s the picture from before. The one I have split feelings on

All the chapter names are great. I know I’m not including that and for that I apologize but I’ve liked all of them so far. They’re so simply but so fitting.

Why’d you have to ask? That’s worse to think about! Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth (wait is that saying a reference to the Trojan horse…?)

You had me at the evil of SL. Time to find a different road I guess

So still no explanation on what Mashadar is which seems like a terrible thing b/c only really terrifying things aren’t explained it seems to me

Oof. Party split tho

I take it back tell me less about it plz

“…like the tentacles of a hundredarms…” what is that? No tell me this time!

Mm. Yea. Not so easy when the smart decision person isn’t there huh?

In my experience it does

Actually not thinking except on a singular goal is probably the best idea rn

Oh shit. Further party split.

The horrors continue

Yes. Out there the mist generally doesn’t try to kill you. And uncommonly do the shadows. The literal shadows.

“Ride, you fools!” -Thom. Lol

Oh shit! POV shit! Perrin!

Hey at least Perrin also saw the horrors before

Being in Perrins head even just this long and my gut rxn is “Rand is really anxious”

Then you have some sense. B/c he was much scarier!

Random note- if you’re ever in water by surprise with your shoes ok get them off if you can. (Potentially put them around your neck… or your pants one of those. Look it up). (It’s pants)

But otherwise that is on point for that situation as far as i can remember

[Also… I missed reading and this is great.]

Yea might be worth trying to keep the axe

Oh is trying to get his boots off it’s just. A turbulent scary river at night.

Almost certainly better than your bare hands yes.

Oh no that cold will kill you.

And POV shift back to Rand!

I guess it’s a good thing these Trollocs want to capture them huh? Like if this was to kill them they’d be dead me-thinks

Yup. This side is worse.

Thom- oh no we have to leave the Aes Sedai? What… what a shame. Mm too bad. /s

“Now that… is better than an Aes Sedai raft, isn’t it?” -Thom on the riverboat. What’d I say?

He does. He absolutely does

“…Rand found the breath for one yell. “No!” Suddenly the ship lurched, and a boom swung out of the shadows to catch the Trolloc across the chest with a crunch of breaking bones, sweeping it over the side.” -Rand right before a Trolloc nearly ends him. Well that’s… that’s something isn’t it? Convenient boom huh?

Mm somehow I believe you Gelb. Coward tho you may be.

Capt Domon is fantastic so far. I don’t know if I’m supposed to imagine him as a pirate even tho it’s a River boat but I am. Mm… might be on purpose? Dialects writing is hard

Yup. That’s the lie.

And that’s a perceptive Cap

Lol. So Thom just stood there and told the cap a story (lie) for at minimum half an hour. Amazing.

Overwhelming people with information can be a way to confuse them enough to just go along so… yup. Why not?

“Every word true… from the one who live it.” -Thom on his story to capt Domon.

Holy shit they got change. Damn. Thnx for the silver Moiraine.

Yup. Like Moiraine said ships coming from Saldaea in the Borderlands. ‘Course they’ve seen Trollocs

Considering the increased presence of Trollocs and terrible weather I imagine they would

She’d never have listened. Her mind was made

[deadpoolxreader]

AFTER THE FIRE PT. 2

SYNOPSIS

Being in a relationship with Francis hardly turned out the way you would have imagined it to be. After following him on a hunch you end up becoming his prized experiment until Wade and the pair somehow form a close bond.

Author’s Notes:

I have been on the world’s longest hiatus, wow. Thank you though to all of you for your continued support. Here is my gift to you all! I’m already working on more!

Merry early Christmas my lovelies!

________________________________________________________________

Unsurmountable knowledge, there is said to be a moment where the mind transcends this universe into a state of knowing. A transition of body for an enlightenment of the mind so undeniably potent that nothing can stop it. This is the moment of transformation, a sacrifice for something beyond comprehension… To be born again.

Was there something beyond comprehension to be found.

It was raining.

Uncertainty, the impending feeling of strangeness against the body as it travels from the tips of fingers, resting in the palms of the hand as feeling begins to seep through before shooting through arms. Cognitive thoughts begin to relay form from the information gathered through subtle touch. Uncertainty becomes paranoia.

A body at rest, no external pressure or force being applied made her remain at rest, but her mind was hyper aware. To see with not the eyes, but with the sensitive press of the hands against soft fabric and the pertinent scent of nothing in the air. There was an overwhelming fear of opening her eyes, to become aware of her present state; whether still trapped in that living nightmare or in the life beyond, to be faced with the results of constant torture apparent on her body.

To face reality was to give up the illusion of safety found in darkness.

{Name} {Last Name}

Patient no more, or was it all an illusion brought on by the medication? Her thoughts were littered with partial moments, incomplete thoughts, unfinished memories. Francis… the man she had spent such a large amount of time with, but he was the same man that had trapped her in some kind of underground hospital wing. It wasn’t even that, that was the polite name for the ill fated dungeon she was forced to stay in, but she hadn’t been alone. There were other people there, other victims, other people… Wade. The obnoxious cancer patient that wouldn’t stop talking. Wade was the only consolation because Francis seemed to hate Wade just as much as she hated Francis himself… Wade.

And the trigger was pulled. Her eyes opened.

There was a ceiling, eggshell white. Her hair brushed this way and that behind her as she looked from side to side. Bedroom, deep colors of blue drenching paper thin walls while a minimal amount of furniture decorated the space. Could she even move her hands, did she even want to? Risk further enlightenment into the state of her person. Was that something she wanted to confront? Or would she rather continue the mystery of it all.

She placed pressure against her palms, weak and sore arms lifted her upper torso up, leaving the bottom half to rest against the bed. {eye color}ed hues glossed over her arms, most uncovered due to the large mens shirt she had been dressed in. Her arms looked like her arms, the bruises from numerous IVs and injection marks, but not as gruesome as she thought they would be. Lifting an arm, she tugged at the fabric, looking inside to see she was wearing nothing underneath besides boy shorts. There was instinctive concern over whether she should be grateful towards whoever did this for obviously washing her off and dressing her or if she should be genuinely concerned.

“Well look who decided it was the right day and hour to wake up.”

The voice coming out of nowhere caused a shock to run through her spine, with a sharp shriek on her part, the mirror in the corner seemed to violently crack. Her voice had never done that before, then again she’d never been subjected to testing either.

“Woah… That’s seven years bad luck {Name}. And here I thought we had enough shit happening to us.”

“W-Wade?”

“Now {Name}... Is that your final answer?”

“Wade!”

The mirror cracked for a second time and she flinched.

“Sheesh! Yes you little harpy, you can stop with the glass cracking. I’m surprised you even know who I am. The whole building burning to the ground and collapsing episode knocked you out. I thought you...” He didn’t finish, his voice sounded sullen, something she wasn’t used to for a man that was always talking. Wade was out of sight, but the lack of visual didn’t concern her as much as it should have. Suffering through hell with someone seemed to create unspoken trust.

“Where are we?” Tired eyes moved from corner to corner, scanning the small ‘apartment’ they were in. She could only guess this was an apartment, a man’s apartment just from looking at the disheveled state of the place. Wrappers and clothes over the floor and chairs, a partial cleanliness to it, but certainly nothing praiseworthy.

“Somewhere safe.”

“Define safe.”

“Somewhere you can piss and shit {Name}! Sheesh, I thought I’d at least get a ‘Wow! Thank you Wade! I’m so glad I can depend on you! Not to mention how your hunky your muscles are, how much do you press?~” His words garnered nothing but mild irritation, but the debut she owed to him outweighed irritation.

“Thank you.” Her words were still tired, though appreciation dripped through them. She wore her heart on her sleeve and it was clear she owed much more to Wade than she could have imagined. “I could be more appreciative. I’m neutral about you changing me though.”

“Fair enough. If it’s any consolation, I don’t think you have anything to worry about body wise. Covered in dirt and sweat, I’d still tap that.”

{Name} was quick to change the subject unless she face even more embarrassment knowing Wade had gotten an eyeful of her. “What happened back there? The last thing I saw was you and… the fire…” During their entire discussion Wade had refrained from standing within distance of her, his voice had been clear but there was no clear sign of him. “Did everything turn out okay... Wade, where are you anyway?”

The room was left in silence and for the first time in what felt like years, she was scared. That field of uncertainty was expanded and her heart was left unbeating for mere seconds. Wade hadn’t spoken, but the atmosphere of the room allowed her to know he was close.

________________________________________________________________

Reluctance. When he’d brought her here, he’d done so through sheer instinct. His own emotions tied to the young woman that he’s suffered with… It was strange how tragedy could forge bonds between strangers. How emotion could be formed with less than enough words for a conversation. His expectations were simple, perhaps too desperate for a solution when he agreed to be experimented on. {Name} and him met, she’d never truly spoken to him, so he spoke enough for the two of them. ‘Was she shy?’, ‘Was she mute?’ All these thoughts ran through his mind as days passed between them; ‘Did she feel as alone as he did?’ He never knew, but he continued speaking to her, even if she’d asked him to stop he’d never stop anyway… oddly enough he could see she was grateful for that.

Maybe it was because {Name} and him shared a common pain, something no one but the two of them would understand, that made him care. The house had burned to the ground and Francis was long gone. Too concerned with salvaging what he could and getting out to see the aftermath. Pain rippled through rough skin as he pulled himself off that pole. He felt everything at once and then he remembered and his eyes found her… She looked so fragile and yet remained whole….

“Wade, where are you anyway”

It was her words that drew response while reluctance drowned him. He was… this thing. No longer confident, he was different and could only pray she didn’t freak out upon seeing him. She was the only living person that understood what had happened.

“I’m here obviously. I’m just not over there and in your face. Did you want me in your face {Name} cause I’ll gladly do it… but um… to give you the short version, a lot happened that weekend.” He paused and the atmosphere shifted. “Francis left and… the machine was turning on and off… It wasn’t like it mattered since we got out...

He was rambling and in that rambling he’d been oblivious to the soft patter of unbalanced footsteps. He was still talking when he felt arms pass his waist from behind. She had reached underneath his arms, her hands resting over his shoulders in a delicate embrace. It was the softest touch he’d been exposed to in weeks… In that moment he felt sincere emotion, trust,compassion… love. He wasn’t thinking about Vanessa… he was thinking about {Name}.

“Thank you Wade… For everything.”

To be continued...