#why say many words 'oh you have problems disorder + heres how to fix your symptoms' when few word 'heres how to fix your symptoms' do trick

[bbeelzemon]

honestly i dont even think i care about putting any specific name to any particular diagnosis for myself at this time. brains disorder is brain disorders man. i just cant see how it would matter what specific ~name~ someone assigns to Your Problems, when targeting the symptoms is pretty much always gonna be the best course of action for all of them anyway.? like why not just skip the middleman and address the symptoms directly . wouldnt that be a better approach over "well you could have 'brainsdisorder', but you could also have elusive ''looks like brainsdisorder' disorder', so watch out! but thankfully, the treatments are similar" like huh whuh. why does that distinction even matter in the first place then. truly WHO give a shit

[mimzy-writing-online]

You probably know this by now, I don't know if you keep up with Whumptober, but one of the prompts this year includes "blindness". I'm not blind but based on your posts about writing blind characters, and based on how I would feel if one of my disabilities were used as a whump prompt, I'm not super comfortable with it. I was wondering what your thoughts are on blindness being a Whumptober prompt.

(unironically and with feeling) thanks, I hate it.

Yes, I’m familiar with Whumptober, but I’ve never participated myself and I haven’t seen this year’s prompts.

Edit: I later did see the prompts and check out the blog. I think it's a good set of prompts and I look forward to all the promising content, especially since some of my favorite tropes are there. To be clear before you read this, I have no problem with Whumptober2021 or whump in general. This is not the first time blindness has been included for a list of whump prompts, and it won't be the last.

This post directed at the concept of "blindness" as a whump prompt and why I think it's a bad idea. The intended audience is individual writers thinking about future projects.

The timing of this is almost too perfect because I read a fanfic earlier this week that would meet that prompt exactly. Tags included whump, blindness, and angst with a happy ending. Now whump, hurt/comfort, and angst with a happy ending are tags I enjoy reading, but blindness as whump has a specific message to it.

To explain that message, I want to discuss what whump is. Many readers are already familiar with the genre, but I think taking the specific definitions and picking apart what it means and what expectations we carry when reading whump fanfiction

Urban Dictionary defines it as: taking a character and putting them through physical and/or mental torment and is typically followed by the same character being treated for their traumas. To indicate the characters place in the situation they’d typically be called a whumpee (the character being hurt/comforted), the whumper (the character that causes harm and trauma), and the caretaker (the character designated the helping/healing/comforting the whumpee).

Fanlore has a page for whump that explains it in depth, including where it started in fanfiction, examples of whump, and even a list of “popular targets” in different fandoms. (Warning: you might find yourself called out on the popular targets list)

“The term whump (or whumping) generally refers to a form of Hurt/Comfort that is heavy on the hurt and is often found in gen stories. The exact definition varies and has evolved over time. Essentially, whump involves taking a canon character, and placing them in physically painful or psychologically-damaging scenarios. Often this character is a fan favorite…”

To add to that, I think an important detail is the distinction Fanlore makes between hurt/comfort and whump:

“While some communities and fandoms may use whump as a synonym for hurt/comfort, there is still a recognition that whump refers to darker and more extreme scenarios. And there are still whump fics been written that have very little, or no comfort at the end of the story.”

The big appeal of hurt/comfort is getting to both explore the darker sides of pain and then experience the catharsis of being taken care of, of being supported by your loved ones as you recover from the trauma. The character is the proxy for experiencing those highs and lows while you yourself are safe at home.

I personally don’t read much/any whump without some h/c involved, but I’m happy there are stories out there for people who do enjoy it. I’m not here to judge what you like reading or what you do to your characters.

What I want is to express how blindness, my disability, used as a whump prompt personally makes me feel and what message it sends to me, to others, and how that message affects my daily life.

Whump undeniably involves watching a character suffer through something painful and traumatic.

My use of the word “suffer” is what I want you to focus on.

Vision loss can be painful and traumatic. I personally developed an anxiety disorder in response to vision loss. Others experience depression. For some it might result in relapsing into old, maladaptive coping mechanisms like drug use, self harm, or eating disorders.

A big part of my anxiety was how people reacted to my vision loss. It was a cause of their stress. They were worried because they genuinely believed I would never live a happy life without normal vision, and that my life would only be struggle and pain.

I recently saw an old friend who hadn’t heard about my vision loss. The conversation was awkward, but the worst part was how they reacted as though I had experienced an insurmountable tragedy. And even when I assured them I’m happy with my life, they clearly didn’t believe me. They acted like I was just lying or in denial.

I love that people want to empathize with my situation and ask themselves what they would do in my situation, but I hate when the conclusion they come to is something along the lines of “I could never do that, I’d be too miserable thinking about everything I lost, I’d never be able to do anything I enjoyed ever again.” But I did go blind. And I’m not miserable, I’m actually happy with the direction my life is going, and I still enjoy my hobbies, even if I engage with them differently.

I’m not suffering. My life didn’t end with vision loss. It’s not ruined, broken, or worthless.

I read a fanfic that was tagged with whump, blindness, and angst with a happy ending. A general synopsis of the plot: the whumpee had gone blind due to a curse. It was true love’s kiss that broke the curse. Even from the summary I knew it was going to end with whumpee being cured somehow and that I’d leave that fanfic vaguely dissatisfied no matter how good the rest of the fanfic was.

I can say this for the fanfic: the whumpee had already accepted that they would likely be blind for the rest of their life, but everyone around them was treating it as a tragedy that needed to be fixed, working tirelessly for a cure despite the whumpee’s protests that they didn’t have to.

It actually hit home to my personal experience.

I still left it dissatisfied with the ending. I might love curse fics in that fandom, and I love the “true love’s kiss” trope, but it wasn’t enough to distract me from the fact that: an actual person out in the world thought the best happy ending, maybe the only happy ending, would be if the character got their sight back.

(note: I clicked kudos and exited out of the story's page because no fanfic writer deserves unsolicited critique or hate, especially for content I consumed for free and at my own volition.)

Why read a story I knew would disappoint me?

Because blindness representation is so damn rare that I feel like I’m wandering in a desert, dying from thirst and desperate for that oasis. But sometimes that oasis is a mirage and the author is unintentionally telling you that your life is actually awful and you’ll never be fully happy like this. And that is a shit mentality to walk through life with.

I don’t appreciate blindness being a whump plot. I hate it. Hundreds (thousands?) of fanfictions featuring blind characters are about to enter the internet and the overall message is going to be “You poor thing! You must be in so much pain, you must be miserable! Who’s going to save you? Who’s going to comfort you? Wouldn’t it be terrible if there was no one in your life to take care of you? You poor helpless thing!”

And I feel objectified. I feel trivialized. The mirage in the desert is going to become a starch, empty room filled with dozens of water bottles, almost all of them poisoned. My representation is going to hurt me personally, and it’s going to reinforce that idea strangers have about how awful my life must be.

(I returned to school this past month, and every day I’m hesitant to tell someone I’m visually impaired because I don’t want to be treated differently. If I’ve managed to pass as sighted this whole time and then suddenly reveal “oh yeah, I’m visually impaired” I feel this instant silence, this pause of awkwardness as people suddenly question how they’re supposed to treat me. They treated me like a person, and now I’m something strange and unfamiliar.)

I’ve worked so hard to improve representation for blind people, to give internet strangers the exposure to a blind person they need to normalize blindness because I hope that if they’re ever so lucky as to meet a blind person, they’ll treat that person with respect. That hope that another person in the blind community will find a friend they feel comfortable and accepted with. I hope that I’ll meet people who accept my blindness as just another aspect of me (like being bisexual or gender fluid or a writer or a cat lover).

Please don’t turn me and my community into a caricature. Don’t erase everything I’ve worked for with this blog.

To be clear, this is not just me saying "I hate the cure trope" again. This is me saying "the purpose of whump is to painfully hurt your favorite character, and I hate that your idea of pain and suffering is my daily (wonderful) life."

[mxargo]

meltdowns and meditation - spencer reid

summary: spencer helps his daughter through a meltdown.

paring: spencer reid x daughter!reader

word count: 1086

warnings: mentions of a bipolar disorder, depression, and social anxiety.

a/n: I'm aware everyone deals with their own mental health issues different ways, I'm just writing from my own experiences. I'm sorry if I trigger anyone too much.

when spencer's teenage daughter was diagnosed with a bipolar disorder, things went to havoc for the small reid family. every outbreak she's ever had, made her feel like she was insane. never wanting to talk to any therapist her father would suggest, made her feel sad, like she was too much for him to deal with on his own that he'd need a stranger's help.

on top of the depression and the inability to be around others without the feeling of being suffocated, felt almost inhabitable. with her father being gone most of the time made a lot of things worse. spencer was her bestfriend, and she needed him the most.

y/n was a teenager, which meant that she was mostly on her own now when spencer was at work. when she was younger there were endless babysitters and nannies who all of quit due to her condition. you could've guessed they just didn't want to deal. but their neighbors were great, at least some of them for the most part. theyd help out y/n when spencer was gone in any way they'd can.

some days were better than others but today, not so much.

y/n was homeschooled, spencer would occasionally call her when he was at work checking up on her, making sure she was safe. that she'd had eaten, if she was feeling alright. but because she was homeschooled, she didn't have many friends, she was more like spencer in ways more than most, and her mother wasn't a subject she liked talking about. she left y/n and spencer when y/n was only four. knowing spencer would've spent the next eleven years raising a little girl on his own was quite terrifying, but he was doing great despite his own hardship.

when spencer had gotten a call from his neighbor telling him that his daughter was having a meltdown, his heart broke but his feet raced out of the building driving home as fast as he could. when he ran up the stairs seeing his front door wide open and his neighbor standing inside of it, he knew it wasn't good. he could tell that the lady was scarred for the poor young girl who didn't have any say when the next time his daughter would break.

"thanks, I'll take it from here". spencer slowly walked in the apartment not wanting to scare y/n anymore than she already was. she was smashing plates and ripping up papers. she was upset, angry, and scared. she knew how these things started and he knew she must've said something to someone else on accident that made the other person feel uncomfortable. it wasn't like she could control it, because she couldn't. but seeing his own daughter this way made him break in a way he didn't know how to fix.

but by the time he'd already been inside the home she threw a large cutting knife at a door and another almost hitting spencer by his face before he jumped out of the way. looking back up at his daughter, he could see just how terrified she was.

"hi daddy". "hey baby, come here". she walked slowly towards her father, knowing he was just as afraid as she was, only not as the same. she was afraid of herself, he wasn't scared of her, for her more so. he hugged her then picked her up wrapping her body around him with her head buried in his chest.

"I'm so sorry, I made a mess". "oh, it's alright. it's okay, I'm not upset but we're gonna go to aunt penelope's. okay?". she hummed in response as spencer leaned down grabbing her shoes then leaving their home driving to garcia's.

♤♤♤♤

when y/n had woken up she was on penelope's couch. just in time pen and spencer walked in the room quickly to see if she was okay. "hey sweetie, how are you feeling?" penelope asked. "fine, I guess." y/n sat up leaning back against the couch against her fathers arm. "I'm sorry". "don't apologize, it's not your fault." spencer was doing his best at reassuring her making sure she understood none of this could have been her fault.

"I wanna try something with you, yeah?" penelope had gotten up from the couch laying mats on her apartment floor. "it's just a bit of relaxation, we're going to meditate for a bit okay?" y/n had looked up to her father seeing him nod his head then walking over to her aunt. "sit".

about ten minutes in, y/n mind was running a hundred miles per hour while the whole time penelope was so calm. why couldn't she do that? by that time her and spencer had switched places while pen started making tea.

"dad, this is lame, how is this gonna help me". "it's supposed to calm your mind like penelope said, you could've given me a tracheotomy with that knife, I wanna try anything with you to help. I know I'm not here much but I'm trying my best to now." by then penelope had given them their tea walking back to her bedroom. "dad. do you think I'm broken?" "no baby I don't, youre not broken, I'm here to help."

y/n had stood up setting her cup on the counter with her father following after her. "I'm surprised you have time for me since you're gone everyday". spencer sighed sitting across from his daughter. "I know, I'm sorry. I'm taking time off of work and I'm going to be here for you all the time now, I'm sorry I wasn't here before like I should've been, I'm going to be bothering you 24/7 making sure that you're okay, especially in public". y/n groans to herself remembering all the times her father would embarrass her in public, him having no problem showing the world his love for his daughter.

"I'm sorry dad. for everything". spencer grabs his daughters hands holding them in his own, "I understand why you think you need to apologize, but you don't. I will never be angry at you for anything. I mean as long you don't come home drunk then everything will be okay" y/n laughed at that knowing he was only partly joking. y/n stood up walking over to her father.

"I love you daddy"

"I love you too baby."

spencer hugged y/n knowing she was be okay.

she's a fighter, a lot like her father.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day two of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! Today’s prompt is Rib Cage.

warnings for mentions of disordered eating.

It’s been a problem since he was young. Momma’s little projection of insecurity and status.

Steve doesn’t eat. Not when he can help it. And he’s good at hiding it too.

He wears concealer to cover the bags under his eyes. He goes and gets highlights in his hair to hide how dull and greasy it is. He brushes his teeth at least six times a day to hide the damage from the purging. And he buys his pants a size too big to pretend he’s not getting thinner.

But as good as he is at pretending, Billy’s even better at reading people.

Since November and getting put in his place by his step sister, Billy’s been an observer. The role of instigator went to Tommy while Billy sits atop his throne and just, takes it in. A dynamic not so different to what Steve once had with Tommy.

But it means he notices everything that goes down in his kingdom, and especially everything concerning Steve Harrington.

Steve doesn’t even notice at first that Billy has noticed him, not from the little remarks and the stares that last a little too long. It’s obvious, but he doesn’t get it. Doesn’t see what it is that draws his attention to him.

Not until Billy steps down from his royal court to confront him in the locker rooms.

Steve’s been avoiding the showers after practice for a long time. It’s bad enough being surrounded by that many other boys, all more fit than him in one way or another, but as if that isn’t enough, he has to show himself too. The second he takes his shirt off, everyone’ll know what he’s up to.

He’s proud of his body. He’s proud of having earned his beauty. But he’s humiliated by the questions. Be it the faux concern or the mockery he’s more than used to, he just wants nothing to do with it.

So he lingers, on the court talking to coach, pretending to be searching for something in his bag. Anything to keep him from having to face the nagging.

But Billy notices, because of course he does. And he sits on the bench between the lockers all smug like. Waiting for Steve to run out of excuses so he can corner him.

It works, after Steve digs through his locker for some imaginary object for the dozenth time, he sighs and turns to Billy, “You gonna keep starin’ at me, Hargrove? What’re you even still doing here?”

“Coach asked me to stay’n lock up. What’s your problem, man?” Billy hums casually, like he doesn’t even care how much he’s bothering Steve. It’s something he’s probably used to by now anyways.

If only he knew what that indifferent assailed routine did to Steve. He buries that for now though, to argue, “You seem to be the one with a problem.”

Billy snarks right back, “Ain’t wrong about that. But I was watchin’ you at practice. What’s wrong with your ribs?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re crossin’ your arms over your chest. You’re breathin’ all shallow like. You won’t even take your shirt off and get in the damn shower. Someone kick your ass Harrington?”

“No, no. That’s.. not it.”

“Uh-huh. Say the word n’I’ll put a stop to it. S’it Hagan? I told him to get off your case, man” Billy tries to convince him into admitting something, not knowing exactly what it is, but Steve shuts him down again, trying not to think too much about the concern in the other boys tone and expression.

“Seriously, dude. It’s just.. it’s me.”

“Right. ‘Cause you knocked your own self around like that. Lemme see it, Harrington.” Billy motions vaguely to Steve’s ribs, where the imaginary injury is, making his chest seize, flinching back from the touch that doesn’t land.

“No. No fucking way.”

“C’mere.” Before Steve can tell him no again, Billy steps forward and touches his ribs. His face looks sort of defeated when he doesn’t make Steve flinch or wince, clearly wrong, as Steve already knew, about the presence of a bruise.

His fingers gently linger though, tracing over each bone as they protrude through pale skin. It sends a shiver through Steve’s spine, and a spike of anger into his heart. Before Billy even opens his mouth, he knows he’s seen through him.

Knows Billy noticed that, just a month shy of the year anniversary of the fight, his body has changed far too drastically for it to be natural, or otherwise normal. His face softens in a way that’s so distinctly not-Billy, it makes Steve want to never see him that way again, “Steve..”

“Fuck off.”

But it’s too late, “Why’re you doin’ it?”

“Leave me alone, Hargrove. For real.”

“Don’t be stubborn, man. Lemme help you.”

“You don’t even know me, douchebag. I’m fine so just stop it.” Steve insists, panic rising in his chest, making his breath come out short and his throat real tight.

Billy doesn’t relent though.

“Yeah? Well I do know you’re starving yourself.” Billy counters, his tone surprisingly animated. It’s almost make Steve feel special if Billy wasn’t being an ass, “Used to think the school lunches were just below you. Thought your ass was too expensive for cold pizza like the rest of us ate. But I get it now. S’why you don’t drink either isn’t it?”

“Okay, you’ve been stalking me?”

“Just been keepin’ an eye on my competition. N’I don’t much like it when my competition starts gettin’ too depressed to even put up a damn fight.” It’s obvious Billy’s using that as a cover for something deeper that Steve doesn’t get, wishing Billy would just come out and say it already.

“Well I’m not much of a threat. Never was.” He prompts, but what Billy responds with instead instead is, “Exactly, and whose fault is that?”

Steve raises his eyebrows, surprised by the venom behind Billy's words. He’s even more surprised when Billy tears into him again, “M’serious. You’re wasting yourself away. It’s no damn wonder you can’t keep up anymore.”

That stings. “I thought you were getting better, but you’re clearly still an asshole.”

“And I thought you were alright to begin with. But I guess we’re both wrong.”

“So what the hell do you want me to say? Thank you my savior for savin’ me from myself?”

“Would you let me?” It’s not the answer Steve is expecting, the way Billy’s been acting since he confronted him, and he makes sure he knows, asking, “What?”

“Would you let me help you? Save you from what you’re doing?” Billy tries again, and it’s even more blindsiding this time.

“Like you even could. You said it yourself, Hargrove. I’m kicking my own ass here. You can’t help me.”

“I bet I could. You need someone in your corner.” Steve opens his mouth to argue, but Billy cuts him off quickly, “That curlyheaded kid don’t count. You need someone to look out for you. I’d let you be King again if it stopped this from happening.”

“But why would you?”

“I got my reasons.”

“Then just fucking tell me. If it’s good, I might think about it.”

“Look, I like you Harrington. I ain’t gonna stand by and watch you do this to yourself. Why’d you think I was checkin’ up on you in the first place?”

“To rub it in my fucking face that I’m unstable or some shit. Try to get dirt on me so you can make my life even more miserable.”

“What do I gotta do to show ya I really care then?” Billy sighs, but Steve hardly has the mind to detect his frustration, because he’s suddenly hung up by this declaration, simple to Billy but astroninal to him, “Wait- care? You mean, you don’t just like me in the same way everyone likes King Steve?”

“No. I meant it in the other way, Steve. The way I’m not so good at saying with words. The way I’ve trying to show you since we made things right. But I guess I’m not really good at this crush shit either.” Billy’s so bashful, so genuine, Steve knows he’s being honest, but some part of him can’t process it still.

“Oh.” Steve shakes his head, can’t believe it long enough to even look Billy in the eyes and deny it, “No-No you don’t. You’re fucking with me.”

“I do and I’m not. And that’s exactly why I’m not gonna sit around and watch this- this slow death you’re putting yourself through.”

Suddenly, this whole conversation goes from frustrating and pissing him off, to embarrassing. Like Billy's perception of him somehow changed his own. It’s funny how he was willing to argue with an enemy, but the second that other motive came into play, Steve finds himself flustered and trying to cover his tracks with a declaration of, “It’s not even that bad.”

But Billy continues to be a sweet talker, and he begs, all gentle and considerate, “Then let me fix it before it is. Please, Steve?”

“Okay.. okay.” Steve nods, biting the corner of his nail as he thinks, regretting it and shoving his hands in his pocket instead. He starts, after a moment of trying to collect his thoughts, “Just- Billy?”

“Yeah?”

“I like you too. That’s the only reason I’m accepting this.”

“Fine by me. How ‘bout I follow you back to yours tonight? Keep an eye on you still. Keep my promise too.” Billy offers, tone somewhat hopeful.

In response, Steve smiles shakily, so nervous his heart pounds in his chest. His ribs feel weak against its rhythm, like his chest could cave in from the combination of nerves and admiration, at knowing someone actually cared for him. He’s never felt more fragile than he does for Billy.

“I would like that a lot, Billy.”

[asubsdarkthoughts]

A note I’ll never send:

Day 1:

I just want to apologize for how I reacted. I overreacted, which was completely inappropriate.

Communication is what makes this work. Communication is a two-way street. You communicated you needed space, which I would like to point out that you did not provide a reason to why you needed your space. A family emergency is a completely valid reason to need space. But that was not communicated until this morning when you called me.

Since a reason to why you needed space was not communicated, I began to create reasons in my head as to why you needed your space. My minds a dark place. My anxiety causes my thoughts to spiral. So I spiraled out of control. It is something I am actively working on in therapy to control. I know I have a problem, and I’m working on fixing it so I can have healthy relationships moving forward in my life.

I have attachment issues and abandonment issues. I can attach myself to people very quickly, especially if I trust them. Then I become co-dependent on them to fulfill my needs. My emotional needs. I am fulfilled when I am of service to others, when I help others. I also need constant reassurance that I am needed, that I am wanted, that I am loved. As well as numerous other issues I can list out. That’s one of the reasons why a D/s relationship is appealing to me.

I’m a mess, I need structure. I’m out of control, I need someone to control me. Hold me down. Keep me sane. Calm my racing thoughts. And that’s what your dominance does for me. It calms me. I don’t have to think anymore. I don’t have to make decisions. You make the decisions. You tell me what to do. You take control so I don’t have to. Because let’s face it, I’m not the best at having control.

Because I have a tendency to be codependent I internalize other peoples behaviors and words. So when you stop responding to me, or tell me that you need space, what I begin to think is that you no longer need me. I think that I’m not good enough for you. I think that you’re ending things. I think that you don’t want to be in my life anymore. I think that there was something I did that made you need space. I think that I fucked up. I think that I opened up too much and I scared you away. I think that it’s all my fault.

Hence the lengthy emotionally charged, deeply insecure message I sent. I woke up, hungover from drinking way too much the night before. I went out and tried to find strength at the bottom of the bottle, but instead I found myself on the floor throwing up. I felt abandoned. My anxiety started building. All the questions in my head left unanswered. Why do you need space? What is going on? Why won’t you talk to me? Why can’t I help?

Then my insecurities kicked in and I was like why are you doing this to me? Because codependent people internalize others actions and self-criticize themselves which lowers our self-esteem. But you didn’t do any of that. That was all me, that was all in my head. And that’s what I am working on in therapy to stop doing. Stop internalizing. Stop blaming myself. Stop overthinking. Stop exaggerating. Stop turning small things into big things.

This relationship with you is helping me with all of that. Although you’re in control, I am becoming more independent - emotionally. Or at least I’m trying.

You’re unable to provide the emotional support I need, or rather what I want. I want more emotionally support than I need - because I’m codependent. I’m essentially trying to train myself to be less codependent on others to fulfill my emotional needs. You cannot fulfill them, therefore I am training myself to not need seek it from you. Now, that’s not to say I don’t want you to be there for me when I need you. Because your presence calms me. All you provide me with is all I need from you. Because it fills this other need. The subspace.

I should have respected your space. I shouldn’t have pushed. But my insecurities got the best of me. I kept trying to push them down but they slipped past my lips and through my fingertips where I expressed them in a very inappropriate manner. I am ashamed of the way I reacted when you communicated a need to me and I failed to respect that. I hope you can forgive me.

Typically when people tell me they need space, they leave me. I never understood why. I was always left trying to deal with my insecurities and emotions and I just never learned how to process those feelings in a healthy manner.

I stay with people I shouldn’t be with because I am afraid of being alone. I’ve been hurt and left so many times so I put up walls to protect myself. When I let those walls down, when I let people in, I become very vulnerable. When people I let it begin to drift, pull away, leave, etc. I freak out. Because my reasoning is: I let another person in and they hurt me. Everyone is just going to hurt me. Everyone is going to leave me. I get all these negative thought distortions. My therapist actually called me out on it. I told her everyone leaves me. Well, that’s not a truthful statement at all. Not everyone leaves. There’s a lot of people who are still in my life, people who Qi have been in my life for years. But because I was adopted, my birth parents “left me”. My dad “left” when my parents got divorced, but he never left me. My mom “left” for months at a time every year to go to Portugal. So I internalize that. So I create these thought distortions that everyone’s going to leave me. So when you said you needed space, the way I process information in my brain is “oh, he’s leaving me.” Then the spiral of negative thought distortions begin.

When you said you needed space without providing me with a reason, I’m left to make up my own. When I ask if you’re still my Dom and you don’t reply. I’m left to believe you no longer want to be my Dom. So I spiral, and I don’t stop. I tried to drown the thoughts out with alcohol. That didn’t work. I got so drunk I embarrassed myself. I had to have my best friend come pick me up and drive me home because I was so impaired I couldn’t make it home myself. And that’s MY fault. And I’m working on not resorting to coping that way. Next time I won’t react like that. Next time I won’t go out and get wasted. Next time I’ll stay home and journal, next time I’ll get really high and paint. Next time I’ll call my friends up. Next time I’ll utilize healthier coping strategies and also next time I will work harder to fight off these negative thought distortions.

Day 2:

My therapist gave me an assessment this morning. The results stated there is a high probability that I have borderline personality disorder. Fuck. It all makes sense now. Especially the way I reacted.

Day fuck yoou

I was vulnerable with you. I trusted you. The trust has been broken. You broke it. I don’t know what you will need to do to gain it back. Knowing myself you just need to say sorry and I will get down on my knees. Because you ensnared me in your trap. You reached into my chest and ripped out my soul. I presented it to you, and you tossed it on the ground, like it was garbage.

Change needs to occur for this to work. I don’t think you’ll be able to provide that. You wrapped me up in the mess that encapsulates your life.

Right now I need someone who I can give complete control to. If you cannot handle that responsibility then I can no longer call you my dom.

I will always care about you. You have a special place in my heart and I will probably always do anything you ask me to do for you, because I will always give you control. Because you mesmerize me. You always will.

But I need more. I’m hurting. I’m in so much pain. And I need to heal. I need to do what is best for me. If you can be a positive person in my life, if you can be supportive, than i can keep you. If you cannot provide any substance to my life than I can not keep you here. I need positive people. I am riding myself of all issues, anxiety.

Decide what you want. Communicate it. If you don’t want me then let’s be friends — in a couple months. Hahah, cuz I don’t like yoou right now. I need to hate you to get over you. Hating yoou is easier than heartbreak.

Day 3:

You can’t handle my submission. Or rather, should I ask you? Can you handle the gift of my submission?

You get the weekend you figure it out. After that I will make the decision.

I miss you so much I just want to hate you. Not talking to you is eating up inside

I just want to sit in your lap and have the whole world around me disappear. Because I’m your arms I am safe. In your presence no one will hurt me.

I would like to think that you’ll always care about me. I fantasize running into you at the bar. I’ll have moved on at that point. And you’ll be watching me, as I make my way across the room, and we’ll smile and maybe exchange words. I like to imagine the thoughts racing through your head at that moment. About how much you miss me, how much you want me. I like to imagine that inside you’re slowly dying because you realize you let the best thing ever just walk away. How you fucked it all up. Because honey, I didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not my fault.

With love,

K.Sway

[frightfurtabby]

HimiKiyo Week Day 6: I Melt With You

// 2nd to last day, the theme is sickness and health. Emi told me about a headcanon about Kiyo having Marfan Syndrome a while ago so I used that for this. And to add another layer I’ve made a nod to a grey’s anatomy episode we watched on a date night. sadly i dont think thats enough for me to be able to tag that fandom tho smh//

Word Count: 1299

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34224124

Amino: (coming soon)

Korekiyo always had health problems in some way since they could remember. It wasn’t easy to live with but Sister had always had it worse. Of course she did, because her ailments were rarer and deadlier, as she frequently reminded them back in those days. It was all about her so without her things went south for several years. (More so than they had been)

Himiko also knew what it was like to lose somebody to something like that. It was one of the things that they bonded over in their early days knowing one another. It took a few conversations to fully open up about that. It took even longer then for Kiyo to confess there was a reason for their lanky appearance and spindly fingers: Marfan Syndrome.

A big catch was that their heart was bad. It could be fixed with surgery, but that and the medications were simply managing it and the dozens or so other symptoms. It, like many of the disorders Kiyo’s sister had while she was alive, was incurable.

Any surgery had risks, but the risks were better than risking the damage to the arteries getting any worse. It had finally come time for the procedure. There were indicators their heart would start to get worse.

Himiko was in the room when the doctor broke the news. In a cruel twist it was she that seemed to need the most comforting about the news. Kiyo kept her up on their lap and brushed fingers across her hand.

“I’m going to be fine, darling.” They told her before giving a peck on the cheek. “Recovery might take a while but when I’m all better, I’ll be better than ever before. Stronger.”

“You’ll really be okay honey?” She clung to them like a koala.

“Yes. I promise that.” A promise sealed with a kiss on her lips. That was the kind that should never be broken, so they knew they had to fight.

There were little conversations day to day about it. It was first caught extremely early as many genetic conditions were. It started with eye problems and scoliosis. A few more observations and tests and it was the answer. Plus, there was a family history with it due to one grandfather having had it.

Kiyo had a morbid sense of humor and one of the jokes was about how they were “Always in and out of the hospital, so why not have something interesting to stay longer. Make things a lot more convenient”

Himiko knew she had to stay in the hospital overnight tonight, so she put a call in to an old friend to house-sit and make sure to feed their kitty child, Ryo. It was the night before the big day.

“Thank you.” Kiyo said, propped up a bit on the pillows. They figured they may get some shut-eye soon. “I got a little sad, but then I thought about how happy he’ll be when his mommies come back home.” They smiled.

“I’ll be glad when this is all over.” she put her phone under the pillow on the visitors couch she was going to sleep on before walking over to hold their hand. “If the doctors mess anything up I’ll sue.” She wasn’t kidding, and hoped it didn’t come to that.

A smile crossed Kiyo’s face as they gently returned her little hand squeeze. “I know you would. I trust that I’ll be fine here.”

She leaned in and gave a kiss. “Is there anything you’d like before bed?”

Stroking their chin in thought, an answer came with a slight delay. “Well… how about a bedtime story? I’ve read those to you many times, so this can be a good opportunity for your turn.”

“Hehe, I thought you might say something like that. So I came up with one already earlier today.” she explained, “So, I hope you’ll enjoy hearing this tale.” It was a relaxing one with a relatively light conflict. Many talking animals inhabited a lush green landscape with the yellow sun shining on them above.

Some of the denizens of this land had assumed a Kitsune had stolen lost items from them when things went missing solely due to the creature’s reputation. After a bit of detective work, starting from a single odd feather out in the nearby farm’s chicken coop led to the discovery that there was a visit from a Tengu and that had been the true culprit.

Kiyo enjoyed laying back and listening instead of telling for once, eyes closed as they listened and visualized what was going on in the story. Following it all along, walking in the shoes of the characters. As time passed they got sleepier, her voice soothing any worry they had.

Happy little yawns popped up here and there. Kiyo expended only a small bit of energy to lean up and nuzzle into her hand as she ran soft, gentle hands along their cheek or through their hair.

“Mmm, I know I tell you this a lot but you really are cuter than you’re given credit for.”

“Am I?” they asked, briefly opening their eyes to look up with a flutter.

“Yes, especially when you’re all sleepy like this. You should rest up.”

The next day Kiyo woke up a little bit later than usual. It was still morning but the sun was approaching the peak it would have at midday. The curtains were open so that meant either one of the doctors or nurses or Himiko opened them.

Their wife was up and about, returning a moment later. “Oh, you’re awake! You were still resting when I got up. I brought you something.”

In her hands was a bottle of water and some toast with jam.

“It’s not very much but since it's today it has to be light.”

Kiyo nodded. “Well, it is breakfast in bed served by my beloved. I’d say that its enough~”

They took a drink first and then a few bites of their food. Himiko walked up for a hug when they’d finished eating.

“So, how do you want to spend the rest of the time before they take you in?”

“I’m not sure, there’s plenty to read or we could watch the television.”

“I’ll watch with you.” she said, pulling a seat up.

Kiyo flipped through the channels until something interesting came up and then put the remote on the bedside table. The couple held hands and tried to keep away the anxiety and worry for a few more hours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later the Doctor came in, asking if they were ready. To which Kiyo nodded.

They looked over to Himiko and gave her hand a squeeze. “I’ll see you again soon honey. Don’t worry about me too much.”

She kissed them and Kiyo reached up around her shoulders to return the kiss.

She waved them goodbye for now, adding before her wife left “I’ll try, but I can’t help but worry at least a little.”

She occupied herself more or less successfully. At least she hadn’t freaked herself out badly. They came back in one piece, still under, just a few hours later. Hours that dragged on yet felt like nothing at all when she knew they were going to be okay.

Her huge grin never left her. Kiyo woke up and looked up so happily tears just about formed.

As the two hugged close, Kiyo said their first words since before the surgery. “Told you I’d be back, This wasn’t so bad now was it?”

“I guess not. I’ll always be here no matter what else you’ll need” Himiko knew there may be a need for further surgery in the future, given what she knew about their medical history from before they met. “That’s what I signed up for after all.”

[aot-snk-4238]

SNK Meta Part 2: Ymir

In my previous post, I talked about my feelings regarding Historia's character this final arc. Now I'm going to talk about Ymir, her relationship with Historia, and my feelings about her send-off.

Was Ymir a good character?

In my eyes, yes. When she was first introduced, it was clear that she had feelings for Historia, making her one of the only canon queer characters in the series (assuming Historia reciprocated those feelings, which I'm pretty sure she did). She also appeared very snarky and cynical, but us readers came to learn later on that there was a much softer, sensitive side to her deep down that Historia would be the first to witness. These revelations, including her backstory, helped flesh out her character in a way that made her very interesting and mysterious for me. I especially loved how sharp and intuitive she was. I'm going to quote the wiki on this part, because I think it does a great job explaining her impressive observant abilities. "Ymir was extremely perceptive and could discern the nature of the people around her with alarming accuracy, such as Historia's martyrdom mentality, Reiner's split personality disorder, and Sasha Blouse's desire to look good in front of her peers by hiding her native accent and developing an extremely formal way of speaking. Due to her experiences and belief in self-pride, she tended to rudely criticize people for being untrue to themselves. Furthermore, Ymir was very reasonable, as she knew what to do during her kidnapping situation and reconsidered her options to accomplish her goals." I also enjoyed her interactions with other characters besides Historia. Take Connie, for example. When he lamented over the possibility of his mother being stuck as a mindless titan, Ymir tried to distract him, albeit not in the most appropriate way (ch. 38).

Connie complained about this behavior later on, but Historia defended her, explaining that she was only trying to stray his thoughts from that traumatic discovery. There were a few more moments between these two that were fun to see as well.

😂😂😂. Ymir's looking at him like, "You ruined it, Connie..."

I love the way she pats him on the head. Knowing how much taller Connie's gotten I don't think she'd be able to do that anymore.

This becomes one of the many times that Connie calls her "ugly" when she's in her titan form. Too bad she couldn't talk very well as a titan or else she probably would have had a smartass remark to throw back at him. It's looking back on scenes like this where I wish we could have gotten more out of these two. You can tell she cared for Connie and I know he also cared in his own way.

We only saw her together with Eren once when Reiner and Bertholdt captured them, but it was very interesting to see their perceptions of each other.

Eren found Ymir to be mysterious and wasn't sure if he could trust her, which isn't surprising considering this was the only time they ever spoke to each other. One detail that he couldn't miss, however, was Ymir's undying determination to protect Historia, a goal they would both come to share later on. Meanwhile, Ymir couldn't trust Eren because she found him to be too reckless and hot-headed.

These were my favorite qualities from Ymir, although to this day I still question the rationality of leaving Historia behind considering the situation she's currently in. Historia herself called her an idiot after reading her goodbye letter. Now that I've covered my reasons for liking Ymir as a character, let's move on to her relationship with Historia.

Ymir and Historia

I've loved these two together since the beginning for their complex and amusing dynamic. On the surface, you had the selfish, confrontational tomboy and the girly, kind and beautiful goddess. But underneath were two young women who were dealt a dirty hand early in their life and lead empty lives as a result until they found each other. Their story arcs throughout the Clash of the Titans arc were beautiful and complimentary, and it's part of the reason why it's actually my favorite story arc in the series. Everything from Ymir seeing through Historia's charade and urging her to live her life with pride to Historia telling Ymir her real name and the two of them fighting side by side in chapter 49 was some of the most empowering moments for me and I will forever cherish those parts of the story.

Ymir's departure

And now the part I've been most excited to talk about! Ymir's glorious, memorable and emotional departure.

Her ending...was not what I expected it to be. She left Historia at the very last second and gave herself away to the enemy because she felt guilty for something that was not her fault. Now as we know, Ymir is selfless at heart and she felt indebted to Reiner and Bertholdt for inadvertently helping her return to her human form after 60 years of wandering the earth as a mindless titan. She also decided that Historia might be safe after all after learning that Eren possessed the coordinate. I understand all of that, but what I don't understand is...well...everything else.

This was Ymir's last real appearance. We see that Ymir has willingly chosen to accompany Reiner and Bertholdt back to Marley to give up her titan powers at the cost of her life. Many people weren't so sure if that was truly the last of her though, because her death was not explicitly confirmed for a long time. We spend the next 33 chapters hoping to get something more, and then this happens...

A glimmer of hope. Finally there's a real chance we'll hear from her again, and it's got a lot of people buzzing with excitement. Sure enough, we finally get to see what's in that letter a few chapters later and are given Ymir's backstory. Here's where the disappointing part comes, though. Ymir makes it clear at the beginning of her letter that she will be dead by the time Historia receives it, meaning that this is the only goodbye they're gonna get. The last time they saw each other, Ymir wasn't even in human form. Instead of a proper goodbye, all we get is a short letter. The anime even tried to fix this by giving us Ymir's backstory earlier, but by doing that, her letter was cut short by a lot. All that was really left was, "Hi babe, sorry I left you like that. Oh well, I'm about to die anyway. Sorry we couldn't get married." And then this happened:

Historia touches Ymir's letter and is suddenly bombarded with visions of Ymir's past, including her chained up and about to be eaten. That is definitely not what happened in the manga and its honestly very confusing to me. How was she able to see all of that just by touching the letter? I get that she has royal blood and was able to access memories when she touched Eren, but Eren is a human who just so happens to possess the founding titan. The letter is just a piece of paper. Also, I'm guessing the last thing Historia saw was Ymir chained up so that there will be no need to bring her up again like Reiner and Porco did in chapter 93. I don't blame the anime team for making that change because I'll be honest, when we saw that one panel of her in her death chamber it felt very out of nowhere and I had a hard time concentrating on the rest of the chapter after that. So here are my main problems with her death:

1. It was off-screen

If I recall correctly, Ymir is the only major character in the series whose death was off-screen. All we got were her final moments, and there wasn't even any dialogue. That part especially bothered me because you can see that Ymir and Porco are looking at each other and Ymir's mouth is slightly open, implying that she's speaking. But what was she saying? You seriously don't mean to tell me that they both just sat there and stared at each other the whole time. She must have had some last words, but for some reason we never got to know what they were. At one point I even thought that Historia and Porco might cross paths at some point and he would be able to give her closure that way but no. No closure, just a last minute goodbye letter and a glimpse of her final moments that I now consider completely useless and unnecessary because we never got more out of it. I mean really, we even got closure and an on-screen death for Marco for crying out loud. Why give him that kind of attention and not Ymir? Not to mention one of the more recent guidebooks. Her character has the diceased sticker and it talks about how she went back to Marley with Reiner and Bert, but that's it. Not even the guidebook makes it clear what happened next. Yeah she died, but did anything else happen before then? That's what I wish we could have gotten more details on like, I don't know....her final words???

2. It was anticlimactic

We didn't get enough focus on Ymir's point of view after leaving Paradis in order for her death to have any kind of lasting emotional impact. As I mentioned above, it just felt out of place and messy. There was nothing memorable about her death either. It was quite simple and boring.

3. It contributed to an ongoing literary issue that has anti-LGBTQ roots

Yep. I'm talking about the infamous Bury Your Gays trope. Now before I go any further, I am not accusing Isayama of being anti-LGBTQ, I'm just shedding some light on something that's been continuously repeated in countless forms of media, not just anime and manga. Truthfully, I hadn't heard about this trope before reading Attack on Titan, but when I did hear about it, it only made Ymir's death even worse for me. I'm not surprised that it exists and I realize that this is a manga where death is inevitable, but keeping both women alive in the end would have certainly been very refreshing. At this point, all I could ask for is that Ymir and Historia get to see each other one last time. Obviously since Ymir is dead it will have to be through other means and I don't care how it's done. It can be in a dream, a vision or through Paths (which I think would work best). Seriously, there's nothing I've been more curious about than how Ymir would react to Hisu's current predicament and what she would say to her. It would just be great for them to have one last conversation face to face because for me, the letter just wasn't enough. Of course I'm hoping for too much, though. We've only got 1-2% of the story remaining, leaving no room for further closure. It's disappointing and frustrating, but no story is perfect. I'm grateful for the content that we did get, but I hope one day I can find a story like this one where the queer characters get to live for once. I'm aware of other shows like Steven Universe, Adventure Time and Yuri on Ice that give them good endings, but those shows are much friendlier towards younger audiences and aren't nearly as dark and grim.

Conclusion

Ymir was a very intriguing character while we had her, but her death was unsatisfactory and only left us with more questions. I am not going to trash Isayama for it, but I will leave this critique here so I can unload all my thoughts for others to read if they wish, or possibly share their own thoughts. We are coming close to the end of the manga, so now would be a great time to reflect on what we read and enjoy what's left of it.

[regardingseas]

Ttile: Echoed Vexations (Part One, part two linked)

Fandom: Hermitcraft

Rating: Teen and up audiences (violence warning)

AO3: here! (Full story at once)

•••

Plot Summary:

It's all too easy to turn a blind eye to the past-- to believe that because someone has been shielded from harm's way, they should no longer fear the wrath of their opponent's creed. They're safe now, after all, so why would they..?

Yes, Scar and Cub are certainly "safe", but they're still haunted by memories of the Vex and their deals all the same.

OR

An average afternoon during the HCB Base Swap is cut short when Mumbo accidentally digs up a remnant from Scar's Vex partnership days, and unfortunately for the town's mayor, the other Hermit is far from aware just how triggering the topic can truly be. Things only dissolve from there, and in the end, Grian lends a helping hand to console a friend.

•••

Additional Content Warnings:

Depictions of trauma disorders, panic attacks, flashbacks, paranoid thoughts/delusions, manipulation, gaslighting, threats, injury, and violence. Mentions of religious themes, unintentional self-harm, and non-permanent character death.

Do be careful, but otherwise, enjoy!

•••

The sun was still high in the sky even as Scar finished decorating the monument's support chains, sweltering rays beaming down and adding to the oppressive humidity of the jungle around him. With his usual jacket set aside to fight the heat, he wiped away the beads of sweat that had gathered on his forehead and grabbed a stray bucket from the sidelines. He'd nearly finished the waterfall aspect of the design-- crystal blue streams cascading over the edges of four white spanners, all joining together in the octagonal pool at the base's foundation. It was looking quite spectacular, if he were to say so himself, with the vine-coiled braces and additional water currents tying the otherwise juxtaposing themes together nicely.

Scar scooped up a fresh pail of water, filling it to the brim and hauling it towards the last pillar. He glanced down at the container as he carried it, catching a glimpse of his reflection from the liquid inside. His face shone red with effort, misplaced strands of hair having clung themselves to his tan skin.

Though unsurprised, he still couldn't help but laugh at the rippling image. "It's just my luck I'd swap with another jungle dwelling Hermit. I swear, I can never escape this climate for long. First the island last year, then all this."

With a shake of his head he returned his gaze upwards, continuing to muse aloud to the landscape before him, "You tropics are wonderful and all, but it sure would've been a nice change of pace to set up camp in somewhere like the mountains. Or pull total 180 and have landed in the tundras!"

Concepts for each design raced through his head, each idea fighting the others for dominance and tacking details onto itself, trying to land its place on the metaphorical pedestal of his imagination. A cottage with medieval influences? No, that would be far too typical, amp both of those components up. An entire village with a steampunk driven aesthetic, built into the mountainscape itself; no doubt with custom terraforming to integrate the buildings into the natural environment. That was more like it.

Scar could envision working windmills and waterwheels accompanying purposefully makeshift farmlands, historic blimps having reclaimed skies where they'd soar high overhead. Below them, eye-catching pops of colour, shining through as floating lanterns that hover above connective rope bridges.

As for the arctic concept? Something more grand would be ideal. In his fantasy, he'd created an absolute oxymoron of the words cabin and mansion jumbled together, and he adored it that way. A bottom floor made of bricked stone, the top made of logs and large windows to oversee the view. Accompanying them in the same manner would be a balcony, propped on columns that hugged the building and curved around its corners. The top deck would be open for clear days, and the space below it safe on harsher ones. Sloped roofs would be adorned with chimneys, and the interior warmed by cozy flames that were kept organized with inviting lofts. The living area could be split leveled, sinking down to create its own margin where guests could comfortably gather by the fireplace and--

There was a tug at his ankle, and next thing he knew, a bemused Scar went crashing to the ground, having been too caught up to notice the trailing plants blocking his footway. His hands shot out to catch himself, palms scraping against the concrete floor in a way similar to the childhood stunt of crashing and burning on the pavement. A stinging snapped up his arms, and the water bucket dropped from his grasp, clattering down with a metallic rumble before spilling its contents across the floor.

Scar pushed himself upright with a hiss of air through his teeth, shaking off his grazed palms and wiping them on his jeans. Pulling his foot free from the greenery and gathering himself up was no problem, what was a problem, however, was the troubling sight now before him.

The water had spilled all over one of Mumbo's redstone contraptions, causing the device to short circuit and emit a sort of maroon-grey smoke. The wires fashioned from the compacted dust had been all but washed away, any remaining pieces hanging on by threads and failing miserably whenever a signal attempted to fire; more so sizzling rather than surging alight with energy.

"Oh, crud!" he shouted, racing towards the machine and yanking on the shut-off switch to divert any further input from the broken setup.

It powered down, but Scar was still left swatting the coloured smoke from his face, coughing as the scent of burnt metallics filled his nostrils. When had he gotten so absorbed in possible building opportunities that he'd managed to miss the foliage in front of him? Why had he even been wondering so deeply about it, anyway? This event was about improving one another's bases by adding their own personal touches, not starting a new project entirely.

Scar sighed, he wasn't sure why his mind had begun drifting so far. He'd like to blame it on the wild imagination of a builder, but he had a feeling there was a little more to it. Sometimes, when the world wasn't too much to handle, it was too easy to let fall away. Maybe he spent too much time daydreaming-- he was sure there was a word for that, when trances became so all encompassing, so engrossing.

"But I don't have time to think about that right now," he reminded himself, "I really need to fix this. It doesn't look like most of this redstone is salvageable, I'll have to get new supplies to repair it. Maybe some of the circuits are okay..?"

Scar nudged a repeater with his shoe, the device making an unnatural sloshing noise in his attempt to change the feed-in. He scrunched up his nose, "Okay, nope, gonna need to replace that, too."

Running a hand through his hair in defeat, he glanced towards Mumbo's storage system before shaking his head. It wouldn't be right to use the other man's supplies without asking, let alone waste them on a mistake made due to Scar's own carelessness. He'd have to make his way back to his original base and gather the materials from there once more. When he dropped by initially, he figured he'd gotten everything he needed, but apparently hadn't accounted for dissociation-induced redstone mishaps.

"I guess we're making a trip back," Scar announced to no one, finally picking up the empty bucket to set it safely aside. He made his way over to his tent, temporarily discarding any excess materials and bidding adieu to Jellie before grabbing his elytra and setting off.

Taking to the skies, Scar squinted against the wind as it roared in his ears. His hair parted itself from where it had stuck, short locks brushed back by the flowing breeze. With arms extended for balance, and maybe a dash of amusement, he lit his rockets and propelled himself into the distance.

-----

It wasn't long before he encroached on his base again, allowing his faux wings to glide him downward where he kicked out his legs to come to a soft landing. Scar stopped before the massive drill site just on the outskirts of the forest, heading towards the agglomeration of crates and boxes he had haphazardly stowed aside. He was certain there had to be the necessary hardware in one of the many containers, though which that may be was lost on him. At least, thanks to Mumbo and his new storage system, the chest monster he'd created would soon be a thing of the past.

"I wonder how that's going for him..." Scar pondered, striding over to a random shulker and beginning his sure-to-be protracted search.

"Scar?" a familiar voice interrupted, making him peer ahead to see the moustached man himself rounding the corner. "Hello there! I see you've made yourself rather at home at my base," Mumbo teased.

He couldn't help but chuckle, "That I have. I just needed to stop by and pick up some redstone and iron. With all the ore this place has quarried up, I was sure there's bound to be more of that here than back at Larry."

Mumbo faked surprise with a hearty grin, "Getting into mechanics, are we? Have the inner workings of the temple really had that much influence on you after only a few days?"

"Now I wouldn't say that," Scar shook his head and closed the lid of the grey shulker, seeing no point in hiding the truth. "I took a tumble holding a bucket of water and it kinda spilled on one of the contraptions. I'm sorry for the trouble-- but don't worry! I came here to fix it right up. I just didn't wanna waste your materials fixing my silly error."

The suited man waved his hand dismissively, "Nonsense, it's no trouble. Have you seen the improvements you've made to that place? I mean, of course you've seen them, you built them, but rhetorically speaking--" Mumbo cleared his throat, "Just don't fret over it, I trust that you'll have it fixed right up in no time."

Scar smiled, "Thanks, dude. Now I just have to find where on Earth I put those ore…"

Mumbo gave another laugh, "You know, you can feel free to use some of my things if need be. I have no idea how you expect to find anything in this mess. I'm only trying to do a basic look through so I know where to begin when it comes to the item sorter, but even that doesn't seem to do much good. I swear, it's like trying to play a very intense game of memory, with thousands of nonsensical cards all scattered about."

Scar snickered sheepishly at the comparison, "Yeah, no kidding. But being able to use some resources without flying all the way over here would be great. Thanks again, Mumbo. I don't know if there's anything you'll need here while working, but hey, consider it free range. We're doing these things for each other in the long run, anyway."

"I'd say, 'unless we don't switch back our deeds', but in all honesty? I'm beginning to miss the ol' living monument already."

The two exchange a chuckle before returning to their previous tasks, both going back to digging through the pile of chests in preparation for their projects.

It took longer than Scar wanted to admit to finally find the crate stocked with valuables-- sighing in relief at the sight and immediately beginning to pile the items into his inventory. There were pre-smelted metals from an iron farm, so he didn't have to bother with the ore, and the redstone he'd gathered was already in dust from, meaning all he'd have to do was craft the items after returning.

"I wonder if it would've been easier to stop by the shopping district and buy these directly, instead of making them by hand..." he said, "Oh well, saves on diamonds, and these had to be used some time, I guess."

"Talking to yourself over there?" Mumbo asked.

"Just thinking aloud is all."

"I see," the moustached man nodded, pushing himself up from where he'd been examining the supplies. "I found something neat from last year! Do you wanna see?"

"Sure!" Scar agreed, setting aside his intent of flying back in favour of seeing what it was Mumbo had to show him.

He smiled and stepped over to Scar, holding out a faded piece of paper for them both to see, "I found it stuck to the bottom of a shulker box! Can you believe we used to be competition so recently?" He joked.

Scar could only stare at the advert before him, a steele blue page embellished with a vault-like ring in the center. It meant nothing to the untrained eye, but to him, all of the company's horrors were sealed underneath. ConCorp read bold text in half-connected lettering, the logo finalizing its signature with a black bow tie adorning the bottom.

"Hardly," managed Scar, having just remembered he'd been asked a question, "But it wasn't that recent."

"It was practically yesterday if we're talking business," Mumbo snickered, "but we aren't. I'm not very good at business."

"Me neither, I prefer mayorship," he said in an attempt to change the subject.

Mumbo, however, didn't seem to notice, only turning to stare at Scar with eyes wide. "Are you kidding me? You were quite literally the richest Hermit of all last year! You're wonderful at business. Sahara was amazing, and I don't for a second doubt it was the most ambitious project of our group to date, but she had plenty of bugs, being the machine powered industry that she was. ConCorp, however? That was an utter monopoly! The thing lasted two bloody seasons!"

Scar chuckled awkwardly, "I know, I know, Cub and I worked very hard. But it wasn't all us, we couldn't have done it alone."

"Give yourself more credit," Mumbo insisted, "I'm more than convinced you could have gotten your business up and running even without the help of your Vex friends. Weren't they less prominent in your company last year, anyway? You did change your guy's name from ConVex to ConCorp, after all. I think that would imply less input on their part."

"Not really," he explained, though the tension building in his body was becoming harder to conceal. He had to keep his arms rigid so that they wouldn't shake, forcing in deep breaths to avoid the shaky ones that threatened to take their place. "We just thought it would be better for business, rebranding to something more gentlemanly and all."

Mumbo nodded, "Ah, that makes sense. Though I still don't understand how you managed to work with them to begin with. I likely wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes. I mean business partners with the Vex? Friends, even? How'd you do it? Not to mention why? With all due respect, what makes one seek that out?"

Scar blinked hard at the influx of questions, "Oh, it's- it's really complicated, you might not understand. Cub started it, though. I joined the team not long after, but I wasn't there when he first struck the deal with Them."

"Huh, some deal," Mumbo remarked thoughtfully, and Scar nodded.

He had no idea.

"So what made you leave that behind?" Mumbo continued.

"What?" he asked, finding his thoughts hazy. They were static nothingness, but somehow also crashing into his skull. He found himself having to dig his way through them, while at the same time trying to bury them once he passed. The last thing Scar wanted was to do was hark back to the Vex, to beckon forth Their memory with his own.

The other man simply chuckled, oblivious to Scar's inner turmoil. "ConCorp, the Vex. Did you two just get bored? Having done the same thing for too long?"

"In a sense, you could definitely say we were tired of it. It just- well, it wasn't what we wanted to do anymore. We wanted to move on to new things."

"That's fair enough. Do you blokes still get along? Or did they take the corporation's end like a sour breakup?"

This time, Scar couldn't contain his wince. "We're still friends!" he insisted, "Of course the Vex are my friends."

Mumbo finally quirked a brow, "Are you sure about that? You don't have to worry about hiding some burnt corporal bridges from me, I'm not here to judge."

"Oh yeah, I'm positive," he nodded eagerly, "I'm just- I'm gonna go work on fixing that contraption I damaged, best to get it fixed before we have to switch back."

"Buddy, are you sure everything's alright? I'm sorry if I upset you or anything."

"Nah, I'm just peachy!" Scar announced with far too much false enthusiasm, internally cringing at his failed masking abilities. Not allowing any more time for his ruse to be cracked, he uttered a quick goodbye before adjusting the straps on his elytra and dashing off, leaping into the air and back towards the ruins.

"Scar, wait!" Mumbo tried, but he was already gone.

------

The returning flight was far from the peaceful journey he'd made to the excitation site. His artificial wings beat frantically, struggling to keep up as he charged forward with excessive firepower. He paid no mind to the safety protocol regarding the rocket's cool-down period, simply heralding through the air as fast as his elytra would carry him. Scar arrived back to the monument in a trip overall much faster than when he'd left, but it seemed to drag on for an eternity. The entire excursion consisted of a battle with his own mind-- a war in which he knew he was bound to lose, but he had to hold down the fort until he was on solid ground.

Scar was lucky not to crash into the debris upon landing, frantically stumbling to the dirt and having to grasp onto a piece of wreckage to maintain his balance. His legs nearly buckled under his weight, form trembling in spite of the deep breaths he gave it his all to draw in.

He grasped hard to the rubble, trying to anchor his brain into focus. He couldn't let his thoughts spiral, he couldn't think about Them. He knew grounding techniques, and he tried to rush his way through them.

Five things you can see.

He could see the golden heart, plants, stone, the golden heart again-- the thing was too anatomically correct, he'd seen horrors too similar to it before. And the sound, it was too damn loud, too hard to ignore. Its unsteady rhythm hammering in his ears alongside his own faltering pulse.

Forget visuals, four different noises?

Scar squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to listen, focusing hard on the world around him. Still, he could only hear the heart. He could only hear it pounding, its once melodic notes like nails on a chalkboard. He could remember far too many times when he was left alone with nothing but his heartbeat and his pleas.

Tactile. Texture. What can you feel? Three things you can feel.

Internally, he screamed at his dulling senses to return. God, he didn't want to think about Them, it wasn't worth the risk. They'd been inside his head before, and the mere idea of having his thoughts broadcasted again made his stomach churn. Scar tried harder and harder to suppress the images bubbling to the surface, festering like maggots in an old wound. The more he tried to push them down, however, the fiercer they'd rise back up, and he choked down a sob in attempt to list the sensations he could currently identify.

He could feel the stone-- but he already said the stone, didn't he? He could also feel the sun. It was hot against his back. So hot. He was overheating.

The notes should have been a success, but the drops of sweat felt too akin to tricking blood. The sting of his hands felt too much like the friction burn of a rope. It felt too much like he was back with the Vex again, and as he finally sunk to the soil, he could no longer swim against the onslaught of memories crashing over him like a tidal wave.

They could still hear him, They could still hear him, They could still hear him, They could still get him--

------

The day he and Cub first found the courage to try and cut ties with the Vex had been a hellish one, and the two men weren't even successful in their attempt. Hence, of course, it being the first.

Still, it had taken ages for Scar to persuade Cub that it was even worth trying, the other man having believed it was impossible to sneak anything past the Vex on their own. Scar was persistent, however, and eventually convinced his friend they had a shot if they played their cards right, if they made the right proposal without their intentions being discovered.

They'd constructed their plans in secret for weeks; discussing them only inside of untold locations with hushed whispers, or in the form of coded scrawls they'd burn immediately after reading. They couldn't be too careful, that's what they'd tell themselves whenever they worried their precautionary measures may be over the top. Even so, when a so-called conference was put on the schedule --such events were far from any type of cordial meeting, despite having been assigned the title of one-- the men were hardly prepared for it.

Their conference room consisted of a needlessly grandiose suite, with floors of marble and walls carved from deep umber wood. The polished lumber was adorned with expensive paintings in aureate frames; antique laden shelves taking up the spaces they did not. Aesthetically pleasing decorative tactics were discarded in favour of showing off their riches in a possessive cluster, with the only average items being the table and its chairs sat in the dead center of the area. A chandelier of gemstone and gold swung from above, dangling by the same chains fated to one day bind their vassals.

"Concordats, greetings!" A Vex declared as the men were led through the doorway, hovering in the air at the opposing end of the surface.

"Greetings," parroted Cub minimally, Scar giving a plain nod beside him. Fewer words meant less chance at letting their guard down.

"We've been needing to speak with you," a different Vex chimed.

"Speak with you about the business," yet another visitant confirmed.

"We actually need to discuss similar matters with you all," Scar noted, voice and expression a façade of tranquility.

"You do?" the first asked, wide smile replaced with inquiry.

"Yes," managed Cub, "we want to make you an offer, one you can't refuse."

"I do like the sound of that!" the second snickered.

"We'll hear your offer," the Vex grinned, "we only have one question first!"

"Of course, what is it?" asked Scar, in mental awe of how well their exchange was going.

"Do you recognize these?" it asked, gesturing towards the white table where a blue light flashed, fading away to reveal a small pile of ash.

Cub and Scar glanced to one another in evident confusion, the latter of the two speaking once again, "Forgive me, but we're not sure what you're talking about."

"Oh, silly me!" the Vex giggled, another flash of luminesce encompassing the soot and leaving a stack of papers in its place. As if caught in a controlled gust, they blew from the surface and organized themselves midair; levitating in a cloud of magic.

All of their once burnt notes were lined up before them, cyphers needed to crack their messages included.

Still beaming with innocence, it continued, "How about now? Look familiar?"

The blood drained from their faces, and Scar could have sworn his heart was going to burst from his chest with how hard it was drumming. He wanted to wake up, because this had to be a nightmare.

"No, we have no idea what those are," he tried.

LAIR!

Overlapping voices screamed in his head, all sounding in haunting unison. Scar hastily clapped his hands over his ears, but it did nothing to silence the uproar emanating from within.

You try to break our contract then lie to our faces?

Foolish concordats.

Terrible secret keepers, terrible subjects.

Cub seized hold of Scar's arm and made a break for the door with the brunet in tow, reaching the exit and tugging desperately on the handles. They refused to turn under his grasp, and his eyes darted back towards the Vex; floating creatures growing ever closer to their imaginary bubble providing them with the illusion of safety.

More of Them were phasing in through walls, forms non-corporeal and having no need for the sealed entryway.

Apologize.

They all ordered, Scar flinching at the simultaneous projection. He lowered his hands and turned towards Them, watching Their unmoving grins with wide eyes.

Kneel before your gods and divulge your prayers, we may just show you mercy.

"I'm sorry-" Scar whimpered, but Cub was having none of it.

"No!" the man barked, "Screw this! This isn't worth it! None of this is worth it! He's right! The business, the money, the power, it-- it means nothing! Not when you treat us like this!"

They watched him step forward, his furious yells echoing through the expanse of the room, "We're done! And we mean it! You're going to get us go or else!"

An orchestra of shrill cackles filled the air.

Oooh, it's angry.

They're fighting back!

Teach them a lesson.

"You won't dare make another-" Cub's retaliation was cut short with a cry, the bearded man dropping to the ground in a swift crash.

"Cub!" Scar called, but his attempt to step towards his friend was met only with a searing pain through his legs and the subsequent buckling of his knees. He fell to the marble, limbs heavy as if they'd been weighted. It took considerable force to balance on his arms, appendages left shaking as he peered back up towards the Vex.

He regretted it instantly.

•••

(Part two)

[hongism]

finding beauty in your darkest places - chapter 9

➻ Pairing: reader x ???

➻ Genre: Psychiatric Clinic!au, Angst, Fluff

➻ Word Count: 5894

➻ Warnings: strong language; deals with mental and emotional illnesses and disorders as a heavy theme of the story, future graphic depictions of disorders - please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable

➻ Rating: PG-13/PG-15

➻ Summary: Everyone has their issues, and everyone deals with them differently. Jungkook thinks that avoiding his problems is the best option out there. aka Jeon Jungkook is the newest patient at the Omelas Specialized Psychiatric Clinic, and he just wants to get in and out as quickly as possible so that he can go back to university and be with his friends again. Of course, that doesn’t work out according to his plan.

➻ a/n: so i know this has been a loNG ass time coming but here’s chapter 9!!! i hope you all enjoy it, i don’t have much of a preface to this so let’s just jump into it!

8 | 9

...

Finding Beauty in Your Darkest Places Chapter Nine: Control

​

"W-What?" Jungkook asks, still in too much shock to think straight or say anything else. You laugh at the expression on his face and release his shirt. Jungkook falls back to the floor unceremoniously, hitting the tile with a small thud, and watches as you stand up straight.

 "Y/N, come on! You can't push him around without warning, the poor kid. You knocked him down too." Seokjin chastises you for your actions, and Jungkook looks back to see the man close behind him. You stick out your tongue in response as you squat down beside Jungkook to be more at eye level with him.

 "I'm certain that I know exactly where Taehyung's bear is." You grin again, the smile unable to be contained, and Jungkook notes that. He notes how the smile reaches your eyes, the usually dull film over them gone and replaced by a shining new resolve. Is it… is it because of the bear?

"Where is it then?" He asks, propping himself up with his hands.

 "It's obvious. I can't believe we didn't look there sooner. I should've known." You stand up straight once more, the smile never leaving your lips as you look down at Jungkook. "Come on, follow me." Jungkook does as asked and hastily gets to his feet. You are already on your way across the room, not waiting to see if Jungkook will follow you or not, and he looks back at Seokjin. The older man merely shrugs.

 "I'll see you later, Jungkook." He waves at the younger before heading in the opposite direction and leaving Jungkook to chase after you.

 "H-Hey, where are we headed?" He asks as he falls into step with you.

 "Oh? The library of course."

 "Why—why would it be there though?"

 "Early on – when Mingyu was still new to the clinic – he would hide things on top of the bookcases in the library because he was always so much taller than most other people. It was rather easy for him to keep things there instead of risking having the nurses find them in his room. Since he never spent time reading, people never assumed that he would keep things there. Namjoon caught him in there once putting things on the top of the shelves and told me about it, so we used to keep an eye on things in there. We never… well, we haven't done that recently because we assumed Mingyu had outgrown his childish shenanigans. But anyway, I should've known that he would've put it there. Makes so much sense looking back on it now."

 "How do you—how did you confirm that it was Mingyu who took it?"

 "There's no need to confirm anything, it was already obvious. Having known Mingyu for so many years now, I guess I could say it's an inevitable outcome." You shrug, slowing your pace a little.

 "You seem very happy about it," Jungkook comments. He realizes a moment later when your expression flattens and turns deadpan that it was the wrong thing to say.

 "Of course I'm happy about it. Taehyung will stop being upset with me once I give him the bear back. Things will go back to normal, and Hoseok will come back to the clinic soon as well. Everything will be fine again. Normal and fixed, at least for the time being."

 Jungkook panics. The black water swirls around his ankles again, he feels its presence looming, feels it biting at his skin, the cold of it sending chills through his whole body. It swells around him, filling his vision until all he can see are your eyes. Your dark eyes filled with hope. Hope that is about to be dashed and crushed and swept away because of his actions. He can't say anything in response, he can't agree with you or offer any encouraging words. He knows things are about to crash and burn. It's about to turn sour, and Jungkook isn't quite sure of what will happen when it all crumbles, but he knows it won't be good for anyone.

 The two of you reach the library as Jungkook's black water reaches his waist. Namjoon sits inside, in the same position he was in the first day Jungkook came to the clinic. Although it was not all too long ago, Jungkook notes that it feels like forever since that day.

 "Oh hi Namjoon," you greet, the small smile returning to your lips. Jungkook hates it. He despises it, realizing that he would rather you be hopeless than see your hopes be crushed by his actions. Selfish. Selfish. "Jungkook, give me a hand and help me reach the shelf, yea?"

 "What are you two doing?" Namjoon asks and snaps the book in his hands shut. You barely spare him a glance as you usher Jungkook towards one of the shelves near the wall.

 "I had an epiphany last night and realized something," you explain.

 "She came to visit Yoongi while I was gone yesterday." Seokjin's words are still fresh in his mind, and they still sting a bit too much for Jungkook's liking. He doesn't bring it up to either you or Namjoon, although it continues to linger in his mind as he watches you glance around the bookcases.

 "Hey, are you gonna help me up, Jungkookie? I think I see something up there." You point to one of the shelves, and Jungkook follows your line of sight to the top of the shelf.

 "Why do you need up there?" Namjoon asks. He sets his book to the side and watches you turn back to look at him.

 "I'm certain that Mingyu put the bear up there. Do you remember what he used to do with the smuggled cigarettes and alcohol?"

 "Yea yea, I remember that. I'll get it for you." He gets up and moves towards where you're standing by the shelves, nudging you aside with his elbow.

 "No, you aren't tall enough to reach the top either," you complain, elbowing him in the side as well.

 "Oh shush, Y/N, I'm gonna help you up." Namjoon catches your elbow before you can hit him again and tugs you closer, then hoists you up by the waist. Jungkook can't do anything except stand back and watch the scene, feeling strangely out of place. "Hey, don't kick me."

 "I didn't mean to!"

 "Sure you didn't."

 "Oh fuck off, Joon. You know I would've kicked a lot harder if I meant it."

 The scene is oddly domestic, something out of place in the clinic, something Jungkook isn't used to seeing or witnessing, and certainly not something he is used to seeing from you and Namjoon. Namjoon laughs at your response and lifts you up a bit higher. You pad around on the top of the shelf, swiping something from the top. It falls to the ground in a cloud of dust. Jungkook blinks down at it, eyes wide.

 Sure enough, there lies a stuffed bear, greyed by dust, and his lips part in shock at the sight of it. Something much smaller lies next to it, also dark with dirt and dust, but Jungkook can't make out what it is from the distance he's at. 

 "Y/N…" He starts, not sure what to say. Namjoon lowers you to the floor again then bends over. He misses the bear completely; instead, reaching for the plastic bag and lifting it. He wipes the dust away with his thumb.

 "Fuck," he mutters under his breath.

 "Wha-at is it?" Jungkook inquires, leaning over to look closer.

 "A bag of pills." You lean over as well. One hand rests on Namjoon's shoulder, the other lingers at your hip, and a sigh escapes your lips as you look down at the bag. "Why is it here though, Joon? Who's is it?"

 "I don't know. I rarely see anyone come in here, but obviously, it belongs to either Yesung or Mingyu. Don't know why they would keep it here of all places though."

 "It doesn't look like the pills either of them take."

 "Did they… did they take the pills from someone else for some reason?" Jungkook asks. You look his way, head tilting to the side as you mull over his words. 

 "Has anyone discussed leaving soon, Jungkookie?"

 "Um, yea actually. Jimin mentioned that Mi-Miyeon? Yea, Miyeon could be on her way out." You shake your head at his words. 

 "That can't be right," you say as you shift your gaze to Namjoon. "Miyeon doesn't take any pills, does she?"

 "No, she's strictly in the ED division as far as I know. No reason for her to take pills in the first place. Besides, these are narcotics. Among all the patients, I'm the only one who is assigned to take them. No way in hell I'd give those pills to anyone, let alone Mingyu or Yesung."

 "So…?" Jungkook trails off, waiting for Namjoon to follow up on his comment.

 "So they must be getting the pills from a staff member."

 "Why on earth would they need them though?" You ask. Your grip tightens on Namjoon's shoulder, and he glances down at you with a darkening expression. "And why the hell would they keep them here?" Your tone increases in fervor. Namjoon shakes his head, not saying anything for a moment. He continues with a quiet voice.

 "They're up to something, I know it but… honestly, we cannot worry about that right now. If someone were to find us with the pills, we would get in serious trouble. That may be exactly what Mingyu and Yesung want. So please, Y/N, please just forget about it for now. It's not important. We should just leave them here for the time being." A frown comes across your lips.

 "Mingyu and Yesung have never done anything drastic, Joon. You don't think – do you think they might try something?"

 "I'm sure Yesung isn't the one behind it if they are. He just does whatever Mingyu says because that's what is easiest for him. Y/N, please try to trust me on this. I'll try my best to figure this out so you don't need to worry about it." Namjoon brings a hand up, resting it atop yours, and he squeezes gently. You blink back at him.

 "I already trust you, Joon. You don't need to ask that."

 "I know but…” Namjoon trails off, not finishing his train of thought as a sad gleam overtakes his features. He looks away and shifts his gaze to the floor instead. "Take the bear to Taehyung. He's been waiting long enough, hasn't he?"

 "You're right," you murmur before retracting your hand from Namjoon's shoulder. Bending down, you lift the bear into your grasp and give a few measly swipes at the dust.

 "Jungkook, could you hang back for a minute? I'd like to chat."

 You glance between Namjoon and Jungkook, eyes narrowed and skeptical. Jungkook bites at his lower lip. Your stare is lingering, increasing his discomfort and the anxiety bubbling in his gut. A moment later, you turn away though and do not question Namjoon's request.

 "I'll see you both at dinner then." You slip out of the library without further comment. The moment you're out of sight, Namjoon grabs hold of Jungkook's arm and tugs him further into the room.

 "Things are getting worse between Y/N and Taehyung. And by worse, I mean quite a lot worse. Y/N thinks it's all because of the bear because Taehyung hasn't said anything." 

 "I know that. Seokjin mentioned it earlier."

 "Well, yes, that's fantastic, Jungkook. It's a big problem. If she gives him the bear, it is not going to fix anything. She will continue to think that she did something wrong because of what you did. To make matters worse, Hoseok is coming back to the clinic tonight."

 "Wh-What?"

 "He's scheduled to come back around mealtime, which means he will most likely be there during dinner. Y/N still doesn't know about the pills or him trying to overdose," Namjoon explains in a hushed tone. Jungkook merely shakes his head as he looks back at the man. 

 "I don't – I don't know what you want me to do. I don't understand what you want me to do, Namjoon. You already told her to take the bear to Taehyung. What am I supposed to do?" Namjoon laughs at Jungkook's coming, a breathy sound that lilts through the air for a moment. He quiets down even further with his next words.

 "She's not doing that though. She's in the hallway trying to listen in on our conversation. I know her all too well. But, Jungkook, she can't sit at Hoseok's table tonight. She really can't. I don't even think she should see him in the first place."

 "No…" Jungkook mutters. He leans away from Namjoon, eyes crossing the older man's face. "No. She needs to see him, and she needs to give the bear to Taehyung. It will make her happy, Namjoon. She needs that."

 "At what cost, Jungkook? For what? A sliver of happiness? I refuse to risk her sanity and wellbeing for a brief moment of happiness."

 "Yoongi would. He'd want her to be happy and do whatever it takes to make her happy." Jungkook pulls his arm away from Namjoon, but the man only grips him harder and keeps him rooted to the spot.

 "I'm not Yoongi, Jungkook! I have lost more than one person because I just wanted them to be happy. It fucking backfired so I refuse to risk that for Y/N as well. She is all I have left."

 "Things change. It doesn't mean it will be the same for Y/N."

 Namjoon's arm falls limply by his side. He looks down at the floor, and Jungkook can't see the expression that rests on his face but he isn't sure that he really wants to out of fear of what he might see. 

 "I can't risk that, Jungkook," he whispers, voice so quiet that Jungkook has to lean in to hear him better. "She's the only one I have left. Everyone else has abandoned me. I don't have anyone else in my life, not even outside the clinic. I was dropped here when I was 16. My family never came back to check on me or talk to me or anything. She is all I have left. I can't lose her no matter what."

 "Then are you going to keep her here forever? Just because you're being selfish? How long has she been here because you refused to let her go?" Jungkook steps away from Namjoon, nearly tripping over his own feet. Namjoon… how long have you forced her to stay? Namjoon doesn't answer his questions, and Jungkook continues to glare at him with fury in his eyes. "I refuse to help you keep her miserable. That's not what she deserves, that's not what anyone deserves. If it makes her happy, then I'll do that. That's how you know someone truly cares about your wellbeing." 

 Jungkook turns on his heel, leaving the library without further comment and anger boiling in his gut. As soon as he turns the corner outside the door, he spots you. You're standing a couple feet away from the door, leaning against the wall with the stuffed bear hanging loosely in your grasp. Just as Namjoon said you would be.

 "Take the bear to Taehyung," you say. You make no comment on whether you overheard his conversation with Namjoon or not, but Jungkook certainly does not want to press the matter. "Just leave it on his bed or tell him that you were the one who found it, I don't care."

 "Why don't you want to do it yourself?" Jungkook says, head tilting to the side as he asks the question. "You deserve to give it to him."

 "I really don't," you answer with a small shake of your head. "At the end of the day, I don't deserve anything, so it doesn't really matter."

 "That's not true," Jungkook protests. He frowns back at you, your face stoic in comparison to his. "Taehyung would be more than thrilled if you gave the bear back to him." As soon as he concludes his sentence, you chuck the stuffed bear at him without warning. It bounces off Jungkook's chest and hits the floor with a soft thud. "Don't... don't do this, Y/N."

 "What am I doing wrong? Tell me why I can't do this. It's my life. I deserve to make these decisions for myself, don't I?"

 "You're trying to throw away your relationship with Taehyung," Jungkook bites out between gritted teeth. 

 "That's not true."

 "You are pushing him away to save yourself."

 "You're lying." You push away from the wall. Spit leaves your mouth as you hiss your words at him, pure vehemence in your tone. You begin to walk down the hall, and Jungkook rushes to pick up the bear from the floor and chase after you. "Stop fucking following me." 

 Jungkook persists still, hot on your heels as you move. "I'm not following you," he says under his breath. 

 "Fuck off, Jungkook. I won't say it again."

 "Is it because of what Namjoon said? Did you listen to our conversation?"

 "No, I actually didn't. I heard about ten percent of your fucking conversation and decided I didn't want to hear the rest. God, I could really use some cigarettes right about now." You bring a hand to your head, rubbing at the skin there as though it'll alleviate any of the pain Jungkook knows you must be in. "Before you make a smartass comment, I know it's bad for me and it won't help in the long run. I need that fucking temporary relief now."

 "I know you do," Jungkook mutters. You opt not to acknowledge him or his words, continuing to march through the clinic with Jungkook following you like a lost dog. It isn't until the two of you reach the hall of bedrooms that you decide to speak to Jungkook again.

 "I am still here for no other reason than that I am a bad person. I cannot get better. That is all. Don't sling accusations at anyone except for me." You slip into a room without even checking to see if it belongs to you. Jungkook blinks at the floor where you just stood. If he knew what to say, he might say it but he falls short. Yet again. I don't… I can't help. I don't know how to help. I caused this and yet – and yet I can't even try to fix things.

 A sigh leaves Jungkook's lips. He turns away from the door and moves for his own, carrying the stuffed bear still. Stepping into his room, the chill is what hits him first. It's a cool draft from the AC, and Jungkook shivers under it, subconsciously bringing the bear closer to his chest. It's pointless really because Jungkook sets it down on Taehyung's pillow a moment later. It's only when he puts it down that he realizes you didn't step into your own room in the hallway. Rather you stopped at the room just before yours – Yoongi's. Jungkook hesitates just before sitting on his bed. The conversation he shared with Seokjin earlier in the day returns to mind, the older man's words coming to the forefront of his memory. 

 "They care about each other – Y/N and Yoongi that is – but it's always seemed as though they have a really twisted way of showing it."

 It makes much more sense now. The differences in your relationship with Yoongi and your relationship with Namjoon. How any time something goes wrong you run to Yoongi rather than Namjoon, you search for Yoongi for comfort when Jungkook imagines Namjoon is a better option. How you and Yoongi cannot seem to hold a conversation without arguing. You mentioned that you had a different kind of trust with Yoongi, and now that Jungkook has an insight into Namjoon's feelings and mind, he sees why Namjoon chooses not to ask personal questions of you. Perhaps Namjoon is scared of what he might hear or he's worried that you'll say that you are doing better.

 Had someone asked Jungkook whether he thought Yoongi actually cared for you on the first day in the clinic, Jungkook would have said he didn't without any hesitation. Now, however, Jungkook sees that Yoongi is the only one who truly cares about your well-being.

 "I know it won't help, and it's certainly not good for her in any way. I'm just doing what I can though. If that's the only thing I can do for her, then so be it. It would've been a bad idea no doubt. I can't say no to her though."

 Jungkook can't figure where the line is. Caring about someone so much that you would be willing to do things that could hurt them in the long run versus refusing to give them momentary happiness because you know it could hurt them in the long run. He doesn't know which is better. Is it better to risk hurting someone or prevent them from small happiness? 

 "I didn't need to know why. I don't need to know every little detail about what's going on in her life, to be honest. The things I do for her are enough, and I do them because I care about her. That's that."

 He can't say no to you. Maybe that's the secret behind it all. Just not be able to say no, yet Jungkook thinks that would be an issue in the long run regardless. I wonder... does Y/N think the same about Yoongi? Does she want the same things he does? Jungkook clenches his palms around the fabric of his sweats, knuckles turning white from the pressure. She claims to know, she says she knows that it's bad for her. And yet Yoongi would still drop everything to give them to her.

 Jungkook turns on his heel. It's not any of his business really. It doesn't involve him or matter in the slightest. In the long run, what is it going to do for him?

 Selfish. Selfish. Why? Who are you? Why does it matter?

 Jungkook shakes his head. The voice intrudes, pushing through logic and replacing it with emotion.

 Think. Think. Jungkook. Think. Don't you know? Can't you figure it out? Stupid. Useless. Fucking idiot. Think. You're so useless. 

 Jungkook stumbles and nearly trips over his own feet. Grabbing for the wall, he steadies himself long enough to scoot towards the door.

 Quit fighting. Are you fucking stupid? Just let it happen. Let me in. 

 Jungkook slams his head against the wall. Leave me alone. Just leave me alone. Fuck off. I don't need you right now. Jungkook hits his head a bit harder. The pressure helps alleviate some of the pressure for only a few moments before the voices are rushing back in, rushing to disturb Jungkook's peace of mind yet again. He slides the door open. I need you to leave me alone. Go away. Go.

 Slipping back into the hallway, Jungkook slaps the side of his head with the flat of his hand as though that will help the voices leave. They are only relatively quiet when he's in the presence of other people, talking, chatting, listening, just doing anything other than being alone with his own head. He isn't wholly sure where he's walking to, but his feet take him past your room, Yoongi's room, and the one beside his. He stops before one of the white sliding doors and without thinking twice knocks on it.

 It slides open with little effort seconds later, and the girl behind it blinks up at Jungkook with confusion gleaming in her brown eyes. 

 "Uh… hello?"

 Jungkook stares down at her, an equal amount of confusion on his own features no doubt. Why… am I here?

 "Oh, are you here to see Hyewon?" The girl asks, head tilting to the side as she looks back at Jungkook. "It's Jungkook, right?"

 "U-Um, yea, yea I'm Jungkook. Is – uh, is Hyewon available right now?" Jungkook asks in response, a similar tilt to his chin. 

 "She is, yes," she answers. Jungkook can't quite place her name but knows that he's seen her sitting alongside Mingyu and Yesung with Hyewon before. "But… you aren't supposed to go into other patient's bedrooms without permission or accompaniment by a nurse?"

 "It's fine, Hanuel." Hyewon steps into Jungkook's line of sight, her platinum blonde hair tied up behind her head in a high bun. Jungkook glances away from the girl in front of him – Hanuel – in favor of looking at Hyewon. "He already got permission from a nurse."

 "O-Oh, I'm sorry for assuming." Hanuel shifts and steps out of Jungkook's path.

 "Can you give a few minutes to talk one on one, Hanuel? It won't be long I promise."

 Hanuel nods in response, her hair bouncing along with the motion, and slides past Jungkook to step into the hallway. Jungkook takes her place in the room, eyes still on Hanuel. The door slides shut behind him, the brightness from the hall dissipates and leaves Jungkook and Hyewon in a dark room.

 "You can turn on the lights if you wish. Hanuel needs it to be dark in here, but if you'd rather turn them on, that's fine." Hyewon motions over Jungkook's shoulder towards the light switch. He just shakes his head in response, fingers coming back to toy at the material of his sweatpants as the black waters of anxiety lap at his ankles. "Why are you here, Jungkook?"

 "Wh-Why did you cover for me and lie to Hanuel?"

 "Oh? Did you not ask a nurse for permission?" Jungkook denies it with another shake of his head. "Then whatever you want to talk about must be important. I don't mind. It's not like you're breaking any big rules."

 "Oh… yea."

 "Why are you here, Jungkook?" Hyewon repeats. She doesn't move, still glued to the same spot on the carpet as before, and Jungkook doesn't move either. 

 "I-I don't kn-know. I guess, I guess I just need a distraction?"

 "What do you mean?"

 "I want to – I don't know. I want to just get my mind off things for a bit. I'm sick of thinking so damn hard. I just want to stop for a bit."

 A laugh breaks through the lingering tension in the room. Jungkook peers at Hyewon as though she's grown a second head, the laugh out of place in the hush of their exchanged words. She clutches at her stomach as she laughs, the crisp sound echoes in the small room, and she slides down to sit on the carpet a moment later.

 "Well then… how may I assist you, Mr. Jeon?" Hyewon motions towards the space in front of her, the invitation clear. Jungkook moves forward with hesitant steps and falls into a similar sitting position across from her. 

 "I don't know. You can talk about anything, I guess."

 "I doubt you really want to hear my life story, Jungkook."

 He shrugs. "Try me."

 "Hm, if I tell you a bit about myself, then I expect the same in return." Hyewon points at Jungkook with her index finger, a narrow to her eyes that Jungkook winces at. "Oh chill, Jungkook. It's not an attack, it's just a fair exchange."

 "Okay, y-yea. That's fine, I guess."

 Hyewon pauses at Jungkook's stutter and hesitance. The narrow of her eyes increases. "Is something wrong with you?"

 "What? What – Why would you think that?" Jungkook blanches at her question, panic arising quickly in his gut, the black water swirling up to his hips, and his breath starts to leave him a bit quicker.

 "Well, don't take this the wrong way but you seem… relaxed? Confident? Maybe not confident, but just weirdly out of character. No offense but you normally act like a blubbering mess and can barely speak without stuttering at every word. Not to mention how you freeze up whenever someone asks something personal of you."

 "I'm just listening to your earlier advice," Jungkook says. It's a quickly uttered white lie but a good cover nonetheless. 

 "My advice? What do you mean?"

 "A-About Yoongi, Y/N and Namjoon. Uh, I know – I know what kind of people they are now." Hyewon's eyes go wide, and her lips part at bit at Jungkook's words.

 "Really? That didn't take much effort on my part. So, do you remember what really happened the night of Hoseok's episode now?"

 The question catches Jungkook off-guard. He leans back, spine straightened and rigid, and blinks at Hyewon with no words coming out of his open mouth. I know what happened. 

 "You're doing a shitty job at distracting me," Jungkook hisses. Hyewon answers with a laugh, another clear and crisp sound that tears through the room. She throws her head back while laughing.

 "Sorry about that." Hyewon clears her throat, tucking a strand of hair that's fallen from her bun behind her ear. "I could tell you a bit about my story. If that would help in any way?"

 "Sure, yeah, that sounds… fine."

 "Ha, don't sound so enthusiastic. Well, I guess I can start with my childhood? As a child, there was this – this sort of terrible accident in my life. I don't want to go too in-depth on it, and frankly, I don't remember all too much about it. But I know I lost some people who were very important to me. My struggles started there, I guess, but the remaining people in my life tried to brush it off as a normal reaction to tragedy. For a while, I believed them and wanted to brush it off the same way they did, so I tried shutting it out of my mind.

 "Well as I got older, I tried taking away the pain with other things. Drinking all sorts of things, every drug in existence, sex – anything to try and block it out for even five minutes. After a debacle, I was stuck in here because they thought it was the obvious solution. I mean, what else could they do?" Hyewon pauses, looking up at the ceiling and focusing on something up there. Jungkook peers at her as a cynical smile crosses her lips. "It's funny, you know. It's funny how only when you start doing things for yourself and trying to help yourself, people think something is wrong with you. Taking care of yourself is equal to being crazy. They never believe you when you say something is wrong with you. It's only when you take control. When they disapprove of what you're doing with your life and how you're behaving, they take control. They make the rules. They lock you away because they don't understand.

 "I was happy. I was enjoying myself, I was doing what I wanted. Free from pain and misery and the horrors I had to survive. Every damn day I asked myself, "Why did I survive and not them?". I didn't have control until I took control for myself. It wasn't until I did that I finally started living. And yet they told me that I didn't deserve to live. Sure, I would've ended up dead at some point from all the alcohol and drugs I was taking. At least… at least I was feeling something other than pain. At least I was living. They don't care about that one bit. They don't care about the pain you're in. All they care about is what image it presents. How it looks to people on the outside. The lack of control."

 "Control…" Jungkook mutters to himself. The words strike a chord, bite deep at his skin, resonate so much in him that it physically hurts. His chest tightens, heart clenching at the walls around it, and he blinks at Hyewon with narrowed eyes. A mirror, but not. Same story, different telling. Same life, different paths taken. All leading to the same place...

 "It stressed me out, to be honest," Hyewon says, voice falling to a broken whisper. Her chin dips to her chest. "Thinking about how no matter what you do, it's never enough for them. But at some point, you have to realize that… it's not about doing it for them. You don't owe them anything. It's about what you owe to yourself. The things you do for yourself are enough, and that's the truth of it. So, how about you, Jungkook? What were your juicy methods of taking the pain away? And how did they land you here?"

 "I…" Jungkook trails off. He swallows roughly around the lump in his throat, the black waters of anxiety quickly rushing to lap at his feet in the moment of weakness. A mirror. A mirror. She's a mirror. Vulnerable. Trust. I can’t trust her. No, I can. I can trust her. "I just would work out and control what I ate. I needed control. Had to have some sort of control in my life. Those were the only things I knew how to control. Just work out until I couldn't even feel my body anymore. Control what I ate until – until I was perfect. It was just easiest to do."

 Hyewon laughs. "Why did you never try alcohol, drugs, cigarettes, or sex? That would've taken care of the problem in an instant."

 "I wasn't interested."

 "In what?"

 "I never wanted to do something bad for me or that I would regret eventually. I've never been interested in alcohol or cigarettes, drugs are off the table. I never wanted to put more drugs in my body than I'm forced to already. Didn't want to add to the growing list of issues I have with my condition. As for sex, I've never been in a relationship, so I didn't even consider it."

 "I have never regretted a single thing I did. Besides, you don't have to be in a relationship to have sex." Hyewon smiles at him, and the expression sends a surge of embarrassment through his system.

 "I-I know that. I know. I know but I would rather it be something meaningful and worth something. Not something to take the pain away."

 "Don't knock it until you try it, Jungkook," Hyewon scoffs. A knock interrupts Hyewon's train of thought. The door slides open, Hanuel steps back in, and Jungkook leans away from the girl across from him. 

 "I'm sorry. The lights outside were bothering me."

 "It's fine, it's fine. I was just leaving." Jungkook gets up, moving back from the carpet. "Th-Thank you, Hyewon. For talking with me."

 "No problem, Jungkook. Drop by any time you need me."

 "I'll keep that in mind." Jungkook turns away from Hyewon and heads for the door where Hanuel stands. He steps past her, moves into the hallway, and walks back to his room with heavy feet. He barely has time to think about his conversation with Hyewon, everything is moving quickly again. He has enough time to make it to his door and find it wide open. Again, he finds an unexpected sight. Again, he finds Taehyung sitting on the edge of his bed, something in his hands. Except this time it isn't Jungkook's journal. It's a small stuffed bear covered in dark dust.

...

a/n: okay first of all, so so sorry for such a delay in updates for my series!!! i’ve been doing requests for such a long time that i completely lost track of time! i hope you all like this chapter, please let me know what you think of it 🥺👉👈

tag list: @succulentjinkook​ @mxrzan​

consider sending me a ko-fi!!

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[particularemu]

Insanity | A Hwang Hyunjin Series | Part 1

Part: [Prologue] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Epilogue]

Word Count: 5046

Type: Angst

Warnings: violence, drugs, descriptions of anxiety, panic disorders, fucked up hospitals, a sassy Jinnie boi, and corruption.

Author’s Note: Without further ado, I present part 1 of Insanity. Please understand that I’m no doctor, and I have 0 medical knowledge, so if I make a mistake, shoot me a message and school me so I can fix it :3 

Hyunjin’s eyes widened as he stepped off the bus, hand tugging his suitcase behind him. There it was — Rosewood Psychiatric Institution — the medical facility he was going to stay and work in for the next couple of years. Hyunjin would stay longer, but he had strict plans to start his own institution after getting some work experience. Judging by the beautiful landscape — it looked like he picked the right place. 

The land rolled smoothly under the thick, luscious grass, the picture-perfect landscape looking as if it was sculpted by the gods. There were several colorful plants and shrubs along the cobblestone path, leading Hyunjin directly to the gates. After being waved through by a couple of nice-looking guards, Hyunjin made his way over to the living quarters for the staff. Thank goodness the way was pointed by various golden signs, otherwise, he’d surely get lost in the big institution made up of several buildings. 

Hyunjin’s lips parted in surprise as several sprinklers turned on, watering the beautiful lawn for the first time that morning. Wow… they obviously had a passionate landscaper who thrives on taking care of all these plants. It must take the man (or woman) all day to water the plants, cut the grass, and pull each and every weed out of the landscape. 

The institution was incredible. Most mental health facilities he visited during his university years weren’t this large — or as aesthetically pleasing. The boy couldn’t help but gawk at the beautiful architecture. 

Hyunjin cursed as his watch beeped, signaling the start of his shift in the next hour. He opened the door to the living quarters, gasping at the luxurious decor coating the walls. This doctor must make loads of money off this place to be able to afford decor this nice. It was nice to know that Dr. Douglas took care of the staff. Hyunjin quickly made his way over to room 108, grateful that he wouldn’t have to drag his suitcase up 3 flights of stairs. Hyunjin tucked his suitcase under the bed, brows creasing when he saw the pure white uniform laying across his bed. 

Fuck, he hated white. Of course, he expected he’d have to wear the typical white coat, but usually, he was allowed to wear blue scrubs. Why the hell were they forcing the staff to wear some 1950s style uniform? Oh well. Hyunjin changed into the uniform. 

Dr. Douglas must be obsessed with the look of white — Hyunjin assumed because all the rooms were coated with white paint, decorated with white knick-knacks, and beds were made with white sheets and comforters. Hyunjin would have to find a poster or something to go on the wall, or he might have to check himself into the institution. 

Hyunjin rushed out the door, checking to make sure it locked before heading over to the main building. From what he could tell on his map, he would be working in the largest building. Hyunjin headed inside, eyes scanning the room for some sign of where he should go. 

“Hello, how can I help you, sir?” A kind woman dressed in some 1950s looking nurse uniform caught Hyunjin’s attention. 

What is with these old-fashioned uniforms? Maybe they were trying to keep things timeless for those who’ve been in the institution a while? Or perhaps Dr. Douglass just enjoyed vintage things. Either way, Hyunjin thought the uniform choice was odd. Throw some dirt, grime, and blood on them and the uniforms would look like they’re straight from a horror movie.  

“Hi, I’m Dr. Hyunjin. It’s my first day. I’m supposed to start today.” Hyunjin couldn’t help but gawk at how clean everything looked. All hospitals should be clean but this — this institution looked as though it was scrubbed top to bottom with bleach. There was no scuff mark, footprint, or speck of dust in sight. 

“Ah, Dr. Hyunjin welcome.” A kind-looking man on the other side stepped out. “Come on over.” 

Hyunjin squeezed through the door and shook the man’s hand. “Nice to met you Dr?” 

“Dr. Henry.” The man smiled at Hyunjin. “We’ve been understaffed for so long. I’m happy they finally have someone to take over the day shift for Miss ______.” Dr. Henry handed Hyunjin a medical chart packed full of your medical history.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened as he scanned the papers. Twenty-five sedations? In just over two months? “Umm, excuse me for asking, but why has she been sedated 25 times in the past couple of months?” 

“She is a feisty young thing. If she doesn’t get her way she starts hitting and screaming.” Dr. Henry laughed. “So we typically have to sedate her before she hurts one of the doctors or herself.” 

Hmm… That still doesn’t sound right. Hyunjin brushed it off until he spotted an obvious problem in your chart. “Hey, why is she getting a stimulant?” Hyunjin frowned. 

“What do you mean?” Dr. Henry leaned over Hyunjin’s shoulder to look at your chart. 

Hyunjin pointed to a spot. “It says right here that she’s dealing with intense anxiety, panic attacks, manic, nightmares, and I’m not sure why it says etcetera there, we should be listing all her symptoms.” Hyunjin paused and pointed to another section on her chart. “Then over here, it says she’s taking Adderall — a stimulant.” 

“The doctor prescribed it for her ADHD.” Dr. Henry smiled. 

Hyunjin pursed his lips. The chart claimed that she had no memory of her life before the institution — and there were no notes stating she was diagnosed with ADHD. “We might want to consider taking her off of it. Stimulants can increase panic episodes. If she’s still having intense panic attacks, why are we still giving her Adderall?” Hyunjin pulled a pen out of his breast pocket. “We should remove that from her list.” 

“Don’t do anything yet.” Dr. Henry pat Hyunjin’s shoulder. “The doctor has to approve any prescription changes.” 

Hyunjin cocked his head in confusion. They were all doctors… Why did they need to have medication changes approved? All doctors had the ability to prescribe and change prescriptions. Whatever… Maybe it’s just a safety precaution?

“You guys have her on a steroid too.” Hyunjin pointed at your list of medications once more “Betamethasone? What’s she taking that for?” 

“You know what? I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask the doctor about that.” Dr. Henry smiled. “I only started working with her recently, so I’m not aware of her entire medical history.” 

Okay, is this guy really a doctor? Hyunjin sighed in frustration as he scanned your chart. How could this man be taking care of you, and not even care about your previous medical history? Hyunjin couldn’t help but feel grateful that he was taking over your care. Maybe he could give you a fighting chance.

“Ergotamine? Does she get migraines?”

“I don’t know.” Dr. Henry sighed, crossing his arms in annoyance. 

“The reason I’m asking is Ergotamine contains caffeine. Adding prescriptions full of steroids, stimulants, and caffeine is only going to make her anxiety worse. No wonder she’s having such a hard time.” Hyunjin couldn’t help but glare at the man. 

“Like I said. Take it up with the doctor.” Dr. Henry snapped. “Why isn’t she getting a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor?” Hyunjin was baffled. SSRIs are typically given to patients who suffer from panic attacks. The medication prevents serotonin from being absorbed by the nerve cells in the brain. Stabilizing those serotonin levels reduces anxiety and panic. “She should be taking Prozac or Lexapro,” Hyunjin mumbled as he flipped through your chart. 

Dr. Henry scoffed. “She doesn’t need an SSRI. The doctor doesn’t like prescribing those unless the patient has gone through a successful therapy session.” 

What the fuck equals a successful therapy session? 

Hyunjin flipped through your chart, spotting the therapist’s notes over the past few sessions. Sure enough, panic attacks, anxiety episodes, refusal to cooperate, violence — you had it all. Hyunjin decided that he should sit through one of your therapy sessions to see what might be triggering your panic episodes.

“Okay, then give her a serotonin-norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor?” Hyunijn sighed in frustration. “Those prevent the absorption of serotonin and norepinephrine. It’ll calm her down in stressful situations.” 

“I know what they do.” Dr. Henry slammed his hand on the counter.

“Okay, then why aren’t you giving her any?” Hyunjin raised his voice as well.

“There aren’t any that are approved by the drug administration jackass.” He scoffed. 

“Yes, there is dumbass.” Hyunjin sighed and slipped your medical chart in his bag. “Venlafaxine. If you don’t have any in this hospital you need to get some.” 

“We have it, but it’s an SSRI.” 

“No, it’s not.” Hyunjin raised his voice and pointed to one of the computers. “It’s an SNRI. Look it up.” He frowned, “Besides, there are so many other options out there for her. You could give her tricyclic antidepressants, monoamine oxidase inhibitors, or beta-blockers instead of letting her suffer.” Hyunjin spat.

“Take it up with the doctor.” The man yelled back in Hyunjin’s face. 

Hyunjin leaned forward, piercing eyes glaring at the other man as he crossed his arms. “Fine, I will.” 

“First, come meet your patient, then you could see if she’s worth the trouble.” Dr. Henry turned and walked down the hall. 

“What?” Hyunjin asked as he followed the man. Everyone is worth the trouble. Even if you were a psycho looking to attack everyone in that hospital, you were a human being. Besides, Hyunjin could imagine you weren’t being treated the best under Dr. Henry’s care — based on the way the asshole was treating him. 

“Here she is pretty boy.” Dr. Henry gestured in the room. 

Hyunjin’s heart broke at the sight. You were huddled in the corner, arms wrapped around yourself as if it was the only comfort you had in this mental institution. Your room was empty, save for a bed and a thin blanket that probably provided little to no warmth. Your arms were filled with scratches, from what he assumed to be your nails — but in this hospital, there was no telling. 

Hyunjin slowly stepped into the room, smiling at you as your big glassy eyes met his. “Hello there,” Hyunjin spoke in a low even voice, hoping to prevent scaring you further. “I’m Dr. Hyunjin, your new caretaker. I’m looking forward to helping you the best I can.”  

You quickly got up and stumbled towards the man, tears running down your cheeks as you frantically clawed at his chest. Hyunjin gasped and wrapped his arms around your waist to steady you, heart-shattering when you wrapped your arms around his neck and cried, “Please you have to help me. You have to get me out of here, please.” 

Dr. Henry grabbed your arm and practically threw you across the room. “No touching the doctors. Do you want another session in the lightning room?”

You grabbed the bedpost, body shaking as you cried, “No I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” 

“Hey!” Hyunjin yelled, pushing at Dr. Henry’s shoulders. “That wasn’t necessary, she’s just scared.” He darted to your side, resting his hand on your arm to try and soothe you. You flinched away from his touch, mumbling apologies here and there. “Shh, you did nothing wrong,” Hyunjin whispered. 

“What is the lightning room? Is that electroconvulsive therapy? Do you have the right permits to do that?” To say Hyunjin was concerned was an understatement. 

“Of course.” Dr. Henry scoffed. 

“Why are you using it as a punishment?” Hyunjin raised his brow. “Electroconvulsive therapy is quite beneficial if done right. Do you guys put the patients under with anesthesia?”

Dr. Henry crossed his arms over his chest, eyes filled with pure hatred as he looked at Hyunjin. “No, we mainly use it to get their act straight.” 

“So you’re inducing seizures on your patients to get them to stop rebelling?” Hyunjin scoffed. “Smart.” 

“Look smartass, I’m just doing my job. If you have a problem with it, take it up with the doctor.” Dr. Henry stormed off, leaving Hyunjin alone with you. 

Thank God he’s finally gone. 

“Hey, I’m not going to hurt you.” Hyunjin reached his hand out to you, pausing a safe distance away so he wouldn’t frighten you. “When you feel comfortable, I’m right here.” He held his hand out to you, palm facing up, giving you full control over the situation. 

You turned to look at the beautiful man, noticing the way his eyes lit up when you made eye contact. He sure was gorgeous. Most caretakers wouldn’t have stayed this long, but Hyunjin stayed in front of you, hand out for you to touch when you were ready. You slowly lifted your shaky hand and gently pressed your fingers into his palm, making Hyunjin smile brightly.

“That’s it.” His voice sounded like heaven to your ears. You felt safe in his presence, even more so when he slowly closed his fingers around yours. God, it’s been months since you’ve felt such a comforting touch. “Will you let me check your vitals?”

You cocked your head to the side, confusion evident in your features as Hyunjin chuckled nervously. “Oh sorry, you might not remember. I’m going to check your pulse, your temperature, your respiration rate, and your blood pressure just to make sure everything’s okay. After all, you did get thrown to the ground and since we don’t know what triggers your panic episodes I want to make sure you aren’t experiencing any symptoms of anxiety or panic which could be increased heart rate, temperature and —” Hyunjin paused a second. “Sorry, I’m rambling. I do that a lot. I’ll just check your temperature.” Hyunjin pulled a thermometer out of his bag and placed it in your mouth, hand resting on your forehead for a second to make sure you didn’t feel abnormally warm. 

You found the gentle touch comforting as his hand shifted to rest on the pulse point on your throat. His beautiful lips moved as he counted, eyes fixed on his watch. You couldn’t help but notice the beauty mark underneath his eye. That’s not something you see every day — especially in here. It felt like everyone looked the same — well… from the few people, you’ve seen during your various attempts to escape this godforsaken place. You flinched when Hyunjin pulled out his stethoscope, which didn’t go unnoticed by the ebony-haired beauty. 

“You look like you’re breathing fine.” Hyunjin smiled softly as he shoved the stethoscope back into his bag. “Why don’t we skip that for now.” Hyunjin pulled the thermometer out of your mouth and smiled at the results. “Good. It’s normal.” 

You sighed in relief and pulled your sore body up off the floor, plopping on the bed so you could rest. Hyunjin stood up and scanned your knees, noticing the bruises already starting to form. He couldn’t just sit there and let these damn people hurt you like this. “I have a couple of things I need to talk to your doctor about. Will you be okay here?” Hyunjin smiled when you nodded. “Awesome. I won’t be long.” 

Hyunjin slowly closed the door behind him before rushing down the hallway to Doctor Douglas’s office. He was only here an hour and he feels like he’s starting all sorts of trouble. The hospital was filled with incompetent doctors — or so he assumed judging by the information in your chart. And then there was Dr. Henry… 

Hyunjin nearly opened the door to the doctor’s office when a woman stepped in front of him. “Doctor Douglas is busy now sir. Please come back later.” 

Of fucking course. “I’m so sorry miss.” Hyunjin smiled. “He called me down here, so I thought I’d come right away. It sounded urgent.” 

“Oh, I must be mistaken. Go right ahead.” The woman moved out of the way and sat back down at her desk, obnoxiously typing a response to an email. 

Wait, that actually worked?

Hyunjin quickly slipped into the office before she could see the victorious grin on his face. He frowned when he turned around, spotting Dr. Douglas sitting in his chair, playing a random game on his phone. Yeah, okay he was real busy. 

“Welcome Hyunjin!” Dr. Douglas beamed. “I was hoping you’d make it here okay. I trust the drive up wasn’t too bad?”

“Thank you, sir. The drive was fine.” Hyunjin shook Dr. Douglas’s hand. “Pardon me for intruding, but I have a few questions about my patient.” 

“I expected a few.” Dr. Douglas laughed. “Why don’t you introduce yourself first?” 

Hyunjin ignored Dr. Douglas’s request and pulled out your chart. “After. This is urgent. You have my patient on Adderall, Betamethasone, and Ergotamine, all three are known to have anxiety and panic episodes as a side effect.” Hyunjin paused, wracking his brain for information. “There was this case study a few years ago —” 

“Hyunjin please.” The doctor gestured for him to stop. “Why don’t we get to know each other first?” He chuckled. “I’m Dr. Douglas. I’m sure you know that I run this hospital, considering I was the one who hired you.” 

“Yes,” Hyunjin shook his hand. “But sir, we —” 

“Hyunjin.” 

Hyunjin sighed dramatically, feeling like a two-year-old ready to throw a tantrum. He felt like his childish nature was justified, considering no one in this damn hospital seemed to care about your condition. 

“I’m Dr. Hwang Hyunjin. I was top of my class at Southfield University and I dedicate my time helping my patients.” Hyunjin’s brows creased as he shoved your chart forward. “The one I have now needs help and I need you to approve some things so I can help her.” Hyunjin’s eyes hardened as the Doctor laughed, acting as if none of this was a problem. 

“Prestigious school Mr. Hwang.” Dr. Douglass sighed and looked at your chart. “What do you need approved?” 

“I want to take her off all the excess medication and put her on Prozac. I believe the mixture of Adderall, Betamethasone, and Ergotamine is making things worse for her. She’s already dealing with so much in an unfamiliar place — so let’s put her on Prozac and see if it helps.” 

“And what will Prozac do that Venlafaxine won’t?” Dr. Douglas’s eyes bore into Hyunjin’s, making the boy nervous. 

“E-excuse me?” Hyunjin stuttered. 

“She’s taking Venlafaxine.” 

“Umm, no she isn’t.” Hyunjin panned through her chart and pointed to your list of medications. “She’s getting these six medications, which is way too much for someone without existing health problems.” 

“She’s in a mental facility.” Dr. Douglas chuckled. “They are all to help her.” 

“Yeah? What does this one do?” Hyunjin pointed to a drug on the list. “Peroproxine?”  Hyunjin frowned. “I’ve heard of Proproxen, but that’s an anti-inflammatory drug.” 

“Peroproxine is an anti-anxiety medication.” Dr. Douglas stated as if it was common knowledge. 

Okay, what? Hyunjin couldn’t stop the obvious annoyance taking over his features. He spends a LOT of his free time researching new and existing medications out there. If there was a drug by the name of Peroproxine, he probably would have known about it. “Why haven’t I heard of it?” 

Dr. Douglas laughed. “You’re new in the business son.” Hearing the word ‘son’ come out of that man’s mouth pissed Hyunjin off.  “I’m not your son. Please just approve this so I can help her.” 

“I can’t do that.” Dr. Douglas sighed. “She’s improved drastically since she started taking those medications. I won’t set her back again. It’s just not humane.” He chuckled. 

“Sir, she’s been here six months, and it appears her mental stability has gotten worse. And, Dr. Henry is being violent with her. He threw her to the ground —” 

“Hyunjin enough!” The doctor slammed his hand on the desk, startling the boy. “Give her the medications on her list, or you’re fired.” 

Hyunjin paled — it was clear he crossed a line. 

“I will not have you slandering one of the most trustworthy doctors in this institution. Get back to work.” Dr. Douglas turned in his chair, cutting off the conversation. Hyunjin’s heart dropped as he left the office. 

Sure, he could always quit and work somewhere else that wasn’t fucked up, but he couldn’t leave you. Something told him that you shouldn’t be there — that something else was the problem. He sulked down the hallways until he felt someone grab his arm and pull him into one of the Janitor’s closets. 

The beautiful man flipped the light switch, allowing the dingy old light swinging above their heads to flicker on. So there was a dirty room in the institution. 

Hyunjin scanned the man in front of him, noticing the name tag on his chest that read ‘Minho.’ He could tell Minho worked at the hospital — unless he was a crazy patient who murdered his caretaker and stole the uniform. 

“Look, you’re a very beautiful man, but I have to get back to work,” Hyunjin muttered and tried to push past Minho. 

“What? No, you dumbass.” Minho paused a moment and smirked, wiggling his eyebrows before saying, “But thank you.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes and tried to push past Minho once more, only to be shoved back against the brooms and mops hung on the wall. Minho blocked the door with his arm. “I’m trying to help you keep your job because someone is looking to get fired.” 

Hyunjin sighed. “I don’t want to get fired, I just want to help my patient.” 

“I know.” Minho’s mood shifted — a melancholy look replacing his once emotionless expression. “Just listen for a second.” 

Hyunjin nodded and leaned back against the wall. “Ok fine, you have five minutes.” 

“First of all, I’m older than you so you can fuck off with that attitude.” Minho snapped. “Second of all, you need to stop asking questions.” Minho paused, trying to figure out how to word his next sentence. “Just keep your head down and do your job.” 

“How do you know I’m not older?” Hyunjin snickered. 

“Dude really?” Minho sighed. “You look fifteen. Out of all that I said, that’s what you decided to comment on?” 

Hyunjin couldn’t help but chuckle at the older boy’s expression. “Look, I’d be happy to keep my head down if my patient wasn’t suffering.” 

“I know.” Minho paused. “But this hospital isn’t like the others. You have to keep your head down or you’ll be admitted.” 

“What?” Admitted to the hospital? That doesn’t make any sense…

A loud scream echoed through the hallway, frightening the two boys. “Fuck… That sounds like it’s coming from my patient’s room. Here take this, it’s her medication. Please tell her to take it.” Minho opened the door and rushed down the hall. 

Hyunjin stepped out of the closet and stared at the little plastic cup in his hands. From what he could tell, he had two options. One, he could give you the medicine, keep his job, and allow your mental health to deteriorate until you were clinically insane. Or two, he could simply dispose of the medication and see if you improve. His feet took him to your room, figuring it’d be best to give you the medicine for now and speak to Minho later. Perhaps the older boy could give him more information about you.

From what everyone has told him, you were a pain in the ass to deal with. Hyunjin just saw a girl who was confused and scared. He couldn’t imagine you being violent and deliberately trying to hurt someone. 

Hyunjin opened the door, smiling sadly when he saw you curled up underneath the thin blanket. “Hey, it’s time for your medicine.” 

“Don’t want it.” You mumbled into the blankets, turning your back to Hyunjin. 

“I don’t blame you...” Hyunjin trailed off.

You turned to look at him, eyes wide with surprise. Usually, the caretakers would hold you down and force the pills down your throat. They didn’t have any mercy at this hospital — they’d do whatever it takes to get you to take your pills.  

Hyunjin chuckled at your surprise and slid the pills into his bag. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.” 

There was something about that smile of his that made you feel like you could trust him. Hyunjin wasn’t forcing you to take anything, he seemed genuinely concerned for your mental health, and he was treating you like a real human being. 

“Can I sit next to you?” His soft voice shook you out of your thoughts. 

“Yeah.” You sat up in bed, giving him space to sit beside you. 

Hyunjin stayed silent, trying to think of questions he could ask you. He needed to know more about your medication and how you feel after taking them, but he didn’t want to trigger any painful memories. “Do you feel anxious after you take the medication?”

You thought about it for a minute before nodding. “It comes out of nowhere. I’m usually fine until I have to take my medicine during the day.” 

Okay, so the medication is definitely giving you anxiety. Was it the mixture of Adderall, Betamethasone, and Ergotamine, or was it that new drug… Peroproxine?

“Are you feeling anxious right now?” Hyunjin asked in a low voice. 

You nodded before mumbling. “A little bit. I don’t know you very well.” 

“I’m so sorry, I completely forgot to introduce myself.” Hyunjin chuckled. “Would you like me to tell you a bit about myself?”

You nod, noticing the way Hyunjin smiled at your answer. 

“Well, I’m Dr. Hwang Hyunjin. I graduated at the top of my class from Southfield University.” He paused. “My father committed suicide when I was young, so I decided that I was going to study psychology so I could help people struggling with depression. Then I discovered that the medical side of psych would give me the ability to prescribe and help those at a medical level.” Hyunjin chuckled nervously. “You probably don’t want to know about all that though.” 

“No, I don’t mind.” You smiled. “I hear about how crazy I am day-in and day-out, so it’s refreshing to hear about someone else.” 

Hyunjin frowned. “Do they not give you time to socialize?”

You tucked your hands underneath your thighs, “Well, I get to talk to my therapist. The caretakers don’t like us to socialize with other patients. They said that we could get crazy ideas or something.” You frowned. “I don’t really remember.” 

“That’s not normally how things work.” Hyunjin pursed his lips. 

“Yeah?” You cocked your head to the side. “How do they normally work?”

“Typically you live in a room with a roommate — someone with a similar mental illness...” Hyunjin trailed off. “But you’d also have meals with the other patients and usually there’s a rec room where you guys can play games and chat.” 

You bounced on the bed, eyes filling with excitement as you grabbed Hyunjin’s arm. “We have the gardens!” 

Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile at your excitement. “The gardens?” 

“The doctor likes pretty things, so he has a big garden in the back of the asylum filled with all sorts of flowers. He has some exotic ones in there that smell really good.” You smiled brightly. “I like to go see the pretty flowers, but we aren’t allowed without our caretakers. Dr. Henry would never go with me.” 

So Dr. Henry was your old caretaker... Why did that asshole lie about not knowing your information? He’ll have to look into that later. 

“I’ll take you to the gardens as often as you want. I love to look at flowers.” Hyunjin smiled. “Actually do you want to go now?”

You smiled sadly and shook your head. “I’m feeling tired. I want to sleep.” 

“That’s fair. You’ve had a big day so far.” Hyunjin smiled. “Can you answer one more question for me?”

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips when you saw Hyunjin’s boyish grin. 

“Thank you. You’re such a big help.” Hyunjin rested his hand on yours. “Do you remember how you got here?” 

You closed your eyes, thinking about it for a moment. This was the question you’ve been asked every single day over the past six months. You never had an answer. Your brain only showed you flashes of a van and your cries for help, but the whole memory was foggy and unclear. 

Hyunjin paled when he felt your hand shake underneath his. “Hey, hey it’s okay.” He rubbed soothing circles on your back, smiling when you opened your eyes. 

“I’m so sorry I don’t remember.” You panicked, tears running down your face. “Please don’t tell them I’m not cooperating. I’m trying my hardest.” 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Hyunjin’s eyes widened when you crawled into his lap, head resting on his chest as you sobbed.  His heart completely shattered with every tear that ran down your face. 

He couldn’t imagine being in your position. Everyone at the hospital sucks, you weren’t allowed to talk to anyone, you were being given horrible medication, and to top it off, you had no one you could trust. Hyunjin felt honored that you trusted him enough to be this close to him on the first day.

“Your missing memories aren’t your fault.” Hyunjin ran his fingers through your hair, noticing the way you melted into his touch. “Some stressful experiences are so traumatic, the memories hide in the back of your brain like a shadow. So they can’t be consciously accessed. There are exercises and treatments we could do to retrieve those memories, but for now, I think it’s best that we get to know each other a bit more.” 

“I don’t feel safe here.” You sniffled and nuzzled into his chest. 

“You shouldn’t.” Hyunjin rubbed your arm, brows creasing as he tried to figure out his next move. 

The door slammed open— the loud noise startling the two of you as Minho ran into the room. 

“Hyunjin! There’s an emergency. I need your help.”

[achilleasfury]

Jeff the killer oneshot [part 2]

part one: https://zilia1938.tumblr.com/post/629080390160859136/homicidal-liu-oneshot-part-1

TW: DID/switching(I did my research, yes of course, but I'm still not a pro and this disorder, or how it looks like and so. I'm very sorry if I portrayed it wrong, and if this is the case, please tell me.), murder, scars

Liu. It was Liu. Liu was alive. He hadn't killed Liu. He couldn't help it. He started laughing. He couldn't stop it. He giggled loud and shrill. It sounded so crazy. "Why Liu, why? What did you want to do?" Liu closed his eyes. Did he have to think about it? Jeff suppressed his giggles. "Come on. Answer me!" "Uh, boss? Why does he call you Liu? Why does he call you brother?" "Stop asking, Jeremy." "No-no, sir. We just want to know the truth. Why does he call her that?" "You too, Chris?" Liu sighed up. Jeff tilted his head. He fixed the two policemen. "I wonder why? Are you that incompetent? "Jeff-" Uhh, Liu had finally said his name. How long had it been since he had heard the name from Liu's mouth? Seven years and a few months. This reminded Jeff why he had done it. Why he had killed that family. Why he had been back in the forest. Three months after his parents were killed after he had fled, it had been Liu's birthday. By then, their coffins were already in the ground. Jeff had been at the funeral. His parents were almost completely burned, only some bones were left. Relatives had come. His aunts and uncles, his cousins, and cousins. They had all been there. They had all listened to the sermon. The adults, especially the older ones, had complained about the well-behaved, well-behaved Liu, who deserved much better. How selfless he had been. Jeff had been there. He had been standing in the shade of the trees, a bit away. His head lowered. He had listened to the sermon. It had been held in the open. To make it more comfortable. Not in a building, as they had died. So that their souls could find peace in the open air. How poetic. How fucking poetic. Jeff hated poetry. He detested them so much. Liu had loved poetry. He had loved words. How to twist and turn them. How much the emphasis on meaning mattered. Liu had loved to say ambiguous things. He had loved to confuse Jeff, to say things he meant differently. Simply because he had forced him to by words. Liu had been gifted. How much everyone had mourned him. Anger. Hate. Emotions. emotions. They flooded through him. A shiver crawled down his back. "Come on, Liu. Just admit it. You are not James Hodek." Liu bit his teeth. A soft growl escaped his throat. How much the brothers had changed. Liu seemed to have become aggressive. Jeff had become unstable. He tended to freak out. To fight. Attacking random people. "I won't admit anything that's not true" "Oh, Liu. Why are you lying?" Jeff tilted his head, fixed his brother. "You can't deny it. Especially-" Jeff had to interrupt. Again he giggled. It was such a surreal situation. He was facing Liu. And Liu showed no reaction. He was completely frozen. "There's a resemblance, isn't there?" "Where should there be a resemblance between us?" Liu didn't use any form of address Neither Jeff, nor brother, nor Woods. Or murderer. Scum. Many had called him that. Why not Liu? Why not his brother? "Our Scars, Liu." Now he had made Liu tense. At last. A goddamned emotion. "They fit together pretty well, don't they?" "I don't know which scars you mean!" "Yes, you do. But you know very well! You had them healed." Of course, he did. Jeff was sorry for the pain he had caused his brother. His big brother. Who nevertheless always looked up to him. But he had had to do it. He had been in a frenzy. High. High on blood. "Boss, can you explain what's going on?" "Of course, I heal scars. But I don't see why I should have any of yours, Jeff." Cold. God. Now Liu was cold again. Jeff hated it. "Why don't you explain it to your two colleagues? It's no big deal, bro-" Liu closed his eyes. His hand trembled. "Chief-please say this is a bad joke!" "Shut the hell up, Jeremy! My God!" Liu yelled. Anger. Why was Liu angry? Something changed in his attitude. He stood more upright. "Get up, Jeffrey!" An order. Liu wanted to give him an order. Jeff laughed. "Why should I?" Asking, he tilted his head. "I think you're forgetting who's got the gun here." "Um, boss. I hate to say this, but Chris and I have guns, too. "Oh, really?" Liu turned to them, smiling tensely. Then he raised his right arm. Two shots. Liu had shot his colleagues. "You aim well." Jeff panicked. He wasn't really scared of dying. He wasn't afraid of pain. He was afraid of revenge. "Thank you. I know that very well." Liu's head twitched to one side. His gaze wandered confusedly back and forth for several seconds. Then he fell on the corpses. Immediately, he flinched back. "Holy fuck, Sully- this is not supposed to happen like this." He spoke softly. "Who's Sully? Liu?" "Jeff-no. Not important." "Oh, no? You, or this Sully guy, just killed two innocent people. That was my job!" "Leave it! I have more problems right now than your offended ego. Liu could hiss? Like a cat. A smile crept on Jeff's lips. As if he hadn't always smiled. "Come on, Liu. We're brothers~" "Are we? Is it really us?" "Of course we are. Why wouldn't we be?" I don't know. Maybe because you killed me?" Liu raised his voice. He sounded louder, angrier. Jeff couldn't understand. "But you're still alive?" "Again. I'm alive again." "Not possible- dead is dead!" Jeff knew better. As if his first killings weren't giving him enough nightmares already. He didn't regret killing his parents. He regretted killing his brother. But he couldn't help himself. He had been in a frenzy. That was an excuse, wasn't it? Yes. It had to be. It would have fit- "Dead is dead. Yes. Of course." "How. Liu. "How." But Liu just turned away, removing his colleagues' pistols. He threw one of them at Jeff. "Catch." Did Liu trust Jeff? Jeff joyfully caught the gun and stroked the barrel tenderly. "Where did you get the gift?" Liu seemed to want to answer. But his attitude changed. It was not Liu anymore. It was someone else. Someone else in Jeff's brother's body. "Liu?" Hesitation. Jeff didn't know what to feel. Fear? Panic? Joy? Liu seemed to recognize him, to accept him. As a brother. "No." "No"? "Not Liu. I am Sully." What are you? "A protector. Someone who exists only through you. Created by a monster. Created by you. Because you killed Liu! He would have burned up in the fire if the firemen hadn't found him! He should hate you." Sully laughed out loud. How strange these words were. To hear them through Liu's mouth. Liu, who was still his brother "But no, he doesn't hate you. He can't stop seeing you as his brother. After all, you've done to him! You ruined his life. Have you ever thought about Liu? While you set the house on fire? While you ran away? For the past seven years?" Jeff just looked Sully in the eyes. The green. The beautiful green Liu's. "Every day. Every damn day when I was sober, I could think. Every fucking day I regretted it! But it happened. That's the way it is. I got over the fact that I killed my big brother, who always looked up to me! That I carry his blood on my hands! In the end, I didn't care! Dead is dead!" Sully raised his gun. "Dead is dead. Maybe it's better if you're dead. Jeffrey. I'll see you in hell." Then he fired.

[miguel-manbemel]

Aspects & Fanfics Ep. 44: Beware the Paladin Part 4: The Gift from the Core

Here comes another part of this five-part story on this fic inspired on Sanders Sides by Thomas Sanders, Joan S. and the Foster Dawg Team. I hope that you’re still enjoying this story and see ya in two weeks with the finale of Beware the Paladin.

SYNOPSIS: Patton tries to get in touch with the Mind Palace Core to find a way to cure Janus and wake him up, and this way being able to restore Thomas’ connection with his Sides. Meanwhile Virgil and Roman try to fix their relationship, very damaged by the Paladin’s words.

WARNINGS: Slight, implied innuendo references, mentions to divorce and breakups.

EPISODE INDEX

[Joan arrives to their home. Talyn is there]

TALYN: Joan? What are you doing here? I thought you were staying with Thomas this week.

JOAN: I am, Talyn, but the truth is I’m gonna need you to come with me, at least today.

TALYN: What? Why? Is something wrong with Thomas?

JOAN: To an extent, it is. Don’t worry, it’s not too serious, but Thomas needs you.

TALYN: Okay, I’ll help in any way I can… but I’m gonna need you to give me a moment to get dressed and put a basic makeup on. I’m not getting out of the house like this.

JOAN: Okay, it’s on me, I should have phoned you in advance so that you would get ready. Don’t worry, it’s not a strict emergency, but please, don’t take too long. I don’t want to leave Thomas alone for too long, at least for this week.

TALYN: [going to their room while Joan waits on the living room] Why don’t you bring me up to date about what has happened while I’m getting ready?

JOAN: Sure. You see, as you know, I went to the hospital to get Thomas and lift him home. After two weeks of treatment, he’s totally recovered from his bipolar disorder crisis. He was so happy, so lively, with such an excellent mood… Until he tried to summon his Sides and discovered he couldn’t anymore. Not only that. When I summoned them, because I still can, he couldn’t see or hear them and they couldn’t physically touch him, as if they were ghosts.

TALYN: [from their room] Wow… that must have been a shock for him.

JOAN: It was, for him and for the Sides too. Logan thinks it’s because of the medication, which has disturbed Thomas’ brainwaves and weakened the connection. I had the idea, and Logan confirmed that it could work, that you could try to hypnotize us both again to reestablish that connection by synchronizing Thomas’ current brainwaves with mine. That’s why I came here to fetch you.

TALYN: Oh, of course, I’ll be happy to help. I’ll do it as soon as when we get there.

JOAN: I hope you can, because, you see, there’s another part of the story. Two weeks ago, as I told you back then, when the Paladin was on the loose, he attacked Janus and hit him on the head with his heavy sword, causing him a traumatic brain injury. The point is he has been unconscious ever since, and without him awaken we can’t perform the hypnosis, because all Sides must be in autopilot when we do it. I’m sure you remember what happened when they weren’t.

TALYN: Oh… I see… Is there anything we can do to help?

JOAN: We can’t, but Patton has stepped in to help. Logan suggested that only Patton, as a former Master Side, can help Janus wake up. He’s going to go to the Mind Palace Core to try to get in touch with the Core itself so it can give him a solution. He’s probably doing it right at this moment. The problem is that it’s too dangerous. The Core is in many ways like a black hole, it can absorb Sides and destroy them. Patton is literally risking his life to save Janus’.

TALYN: Goodness, I hope he’s all right…

JOAN: Me too, Talyn… Okay, I brought you up to date. Are you ready yet?

TALYN: Almost ready. Just give me a second to retouch my eyebrows and we’re good to go.

JOAN: Good, because if Patton is successful, Thomas will need us there. I really hope he’s successful, for Patton’s sake, but also for Janus’ and Thomas’ sake. I fear what will become of Thomas if he can’t make contact with his Sides anymore.

[Talyn gets out of their room]

TALYN: Okay, I’m ready.

JOAN: Good, let’s go then.

[Joan and Talyn get out of the house and into the car]

[intro sequence]

[Patton rises up in the Mind Palace Center. It’s exactly as they left it when Chris’ rescue was over months ago. Chris’ arrow that hit the Dark Master is even still on the floor, full of dust]

PATTON: Gosh, does no one clean this place, ever? This is gonna be the center… of criticism… Okay, Patton, that was really awful. You know that when you’re so distressed your jokes are horrible, so stop making bad jokes no one’s gonna hear… There’s the Core. As bright as always… [shows a face of fear] as dangerous as always… [takes a deep breath] but it’s our only hope now, so please, Core, have mercy on us, and especially on me right now. First, I’m gonna need to secure myself so that I don’t get absorbed if I get too close.

[Patton summons a rope tied to a stake firmly stuck into the floor. Then he ties the rope firmly around his wrist. He unties his cat onesie and throws it behind him]

PATTON: I wouldn’t forgive myself if the onesie got untied and absorbed by the Core, it was given to me by Logan, it’s too much valuable for me. If something happened to me… I want him to keep that garment, so that he can remember me and how much he meant to me… Don’t be so fatalist, Patton, you’re gonna see Logan again in no time, you’ll see… Okay, this should do it. I summoned the stake at least a couple of meters into the ground, which will leave a huge dent on the floor. That’s not a very nice way of treating this sanctuary, but no one’s gonna complain anyway. Sort of, I’m the only Master left out of the Core right now, even if I’m not a Master anymore, so in a way this place is mine now, and besides, I’m positive the only Master inside the Core whose opinion I care about would certainly approve. I hope the rope is strong enough and the stake can hold on in place. My life depends on it… [sighs, then looks at the Core in fear, his whole body is slightly shaking] I’m so scared… this could be my final moment in the Mind Palace… but I have to do this, for Janus, for Thomas… Enough overthinking, Patton. It’s now or never. Let’s go.

[Patton starts walking towards the Core. When he approaches it, he starts feeling a force pulling from him. The rope seems to be strong enough, though, so he keeps on walking. Soon, he’s levitating on the air, tied to the rope which gets tense, as tense as Patton’s gesture]

PATTON: Please, don’t break, rope… I think I’m close enough, though, I can feel all sorts of feelings from inside the Core. I’ll try to enter in communication with these feelings and maybe I’ll receive an answer.

[Patton closes his eyes and concentrates, still levitating, tied to the rope, some brightness glows out of the Core as bright translucent flames that reach Patton. When the translucent flames touch Patton, he starts smiling and nodding, as if he was having a conversation without words, and a bright light-blue aura that starts surrounding him gets in contact with the brightness from the Core. Meanwhile, in Roman’s room, Virgil enters Roman’s bedroom. Roman is in bed there and looks at Virgil]

ROMAN: Hi, my love… How is Thomas doing?

VIRGIL: [cold voice] Fine, I guess… How are you feeling now, Roman?

ROMAN: I’m almost okay now. It’s been bad days, but now that the symptoms are almost gone, I think I’m ready to get out of bed and start a normal life again. Thanks for asking.

VIRGIL: [same cold voice, avoiding eye contact] That’s nice…

[Virgil gets silent. Roman looks at him]

ROMAN: Anyway… How are you doing now, Virgil? Since you moved to the guest bedroom after Patton left to take care of Logan, I barely see you each day, only at meals and you barely share a couple of words with me. This is the longest conversation we’ve had in two weeks.

VIRGIL: Do you even care how I am doing, anyway? I’m okay, I guess…

ROMAN: Virgil, please, we need to talk this out. This dynamic that we have established is unhealthy. At least it’s very hard for me.

VIRGIL: This wasn’t easy for me either. But… I wasn’t ready to face you yet. The Paladin’s words still dance in my head each and every minute, even in my sleep.

ROMAN: I have apologized to you a thousand times already to no avail. Isn’t there any way for you to forgive me?

VIRGIL: “Sorry” isn’t always the magic word that solves each and any issue, Roman. I know you probably are sorry, but that’s not enough to magically fix all of this. Apologizing doesn’t change the facts, nor does it change the pain you made me go through… or the disappointment I feel every time I look at you in the eye. Being close to you… has hurt me these past few days, that’s why I’ve been avoiding you. And I didn’t see a way to stop the pain other than staying away from you.

ROMAN: [both scared and sad] Are you saying that… you want to break up with me?

[Virgil looks at Roman right in the eye for the first time, with a sad face of longing]

VIRGIL: No, I’m not saying that… I have wanted to avoid you… but at the same time I didn’t wanna leave your side and I worried about you and your safety each minute I was away from you. I wanted to avoid you to stop the pain, but at the same time avoiding you caused me more pain, cause I longed for you, so I accomplished nothing. I have thought about that question you’ve just asked, Roman, if I wanted to break up with you. I’ve had plenty of time to meditate about it and every time I always reached the same conclusion: I still wanna fight for our relationship and for our family. I want to believe that there is still a chance for us to go through this crisis and emerge stronger as a couple. I think the only way to stop the pain is by working it out, together, and I’m willing to try if you are. I still love you, Roman.

ROMAN: And I love you too, Virgil, and if you give me the chance to prove to you that my love for you is real, I swear I won’t throw it away.

VIRGIL: One part of me is yelling at me to let you go… but my heart wants me to seek refuge in your arms and never leave your shielding comfort… [looks at Roman with a glance of sadness and overwhelming love at the same time] I guess I’m my father’s son… my heart’s voice is stronger. I love you too much to give you up... maybe I’m bound to love you all of my life, even in spite of myself.

ROMAN: I swear I’ll requite that love as you deserve, Virgil. I’ll make myself worthy of your love for me, I promise. And I also need you in my arms, Virgil. You have no idea how much. Come here, my love.

[Virgil approaches Roman and they both hug and kiss. Meanwhile, Remus, Logan and Ian are still waiting next to Janus’ bed]

LOGAN: He’s taking too long. I’m so worried.

REMUS: Relax, Log, I’m sure Patton will be all right.

LOGAN: I can’t relax, Remus. At this very moment, he could be gone already, and we would never know for certain, because we can’t follow him. I’m so scared for his safety.

IAN: You love Patton very much, don’t you, Logan?

LOGAN: He taught me the real value of feelings, Ian. He taught me the only thing I couldn’t learn myself from my Library, that love is the real force that moves everything, stronger than any other force in the natural world, and worth to fight for more than anything else in life. How could I not love him when it was him who taught me how to love?

IAN: That’s so sweet…

REMUS: A little sappy, but I like sappy sometimes. I understand you, Logan, and I hope that Patton returns, [looking at the unconscious Janus] for both our sake.

LOGAN: I really hope he returns and also that his trip is worth the risk and Janus can be saved too.

REMUS: Thanks, Teach.

[At that moment, Patton appears from the ceiling, landing on the floor in front of Logan. Logan looks at Patton. For a second, he doesn’t react, then his face lightens up and he sports a wide smile, then he hugs Patton]

LOGAN: [happy] Patton, you’re back!

PATTON: Of course I’m back! I would never leave you!

[Logan releases Patton, then Patton summons a green leaf and gives it to Logan, who looks at it, confused]

LOGAN: Uh… what’s this? Something given to you by the Core? I know! We must make an infusion with this leaf, then give it to Janus to drink, or we give a massage on the head with it and he’ll wake up, right?

PATTON: No, Logan. You didn’t let me finish my sentence. I would never leave you. Instead, I just did leaf you… [smiles widely while doing the badoom-tish gesture with his hands]

[Logan is confused for a couple of seconds, then he realizes it’s only one of Patton’s puns and frowns at him]

LOGAN: Why did I marry you, again?

PATTON: [smirks] Because I taught you the real value of feelings and that love is the real force that moves everything, and I also because I taught you how to love, Logan.

LOGAN: You were listening?

PATTON: Not quite. I heard it from the Core. It can see the past and the present of this Mind Palace and it can even go a little bit into the future, and it showed me you would say that at some point in the near future from mine. Did you say it already?

LOGAN: Yeah, I just did… [sighs] And you’re right, I do love you because of that… even in punitive moments like this against all of… me…

PATTON: [smirks] Pun-itive, I see what you did there.

LOGAN: [clears his throat] Patton, let’s get serious. So you got to the Core, right?

PATTON: Yes, I did.

REMUS: And did you get anything useful for Janus?

PATTON: Yes. As I said, I entered in communion with the Core. I almost spoke to it. Well, I did speak to it, without words, but I did. It was the most wonderful feeling I have ever experienced. The Core approved of my intentions, considering them noble and wanted to help me fulfill my purpose. So, the Core gifted me a new ability I’m gonna use right now to help Janus.

IAN: A new ability? What do you mean, Patton?

PATTON: Step aside, let me get closer to Janus.

REMUS: Okay…

[Everyone steps aside and Patton approaches Janus. He puts his hand on Janus’ forehead, then closes his eyes. A light blue aura starts glowing around Patton, and it extends to Janus. The others watch the scene, stunned. After a few seconds, color returns to Janus’ face, then he opens his eyes and the aura disappears]

JANUS: What… what has happened? Where am I? And I know this is not a cliche thing to say in this situation, like, at all.

REMUS: [happy] Janus! You woke up!

[Remus hugs Janus. Janus hugs him back, still confused]

JANUS: I’m totally aware of what’s going on… glad to be back, I guess.

LOGAN: You’ve been knocked out for two weeks. Remus and Ian have been taking care of you all this time.

JANUS: Two weeks!? Oh, now I remember… the Paladin suddenly got in front of me, he hit me hard with his sword… and then, after a split second of a huge headache, everything went black and I lost notion of time. Then, in the darkness I saw a light-blue source of light, and a strange sweet music calling from inside, asking me to get there… and I did… and then I opened my eyes just now.

REMUS: It was Patton. Patton brought you back to life. [Remus hugs Patton] Thank you so much, Patton!

PATTON: It was my pleasure, kiddo. Glad to be able to help.

JANUS: So that light… was you, Patton? How? Wha…? Thank you, Patton. I don’t understand how you did it, but thank you for saving my life.

IAN: We’ll explain in time. Now it is important that, when Joan gives us the signal, we all enter in autopilot. We have to resynchronize Thomas’ brainwaves because he’s lost contact with us and we gotta fix that.

JANUS: Seems there has been a lot going on around here while I was gone. What else did I miss?

IAN: Okay, guys, while you bring him up to date, I’ll go alert the others to be ready. See ya in a moment.

[Ian sinks down, then rises up in Roman’s room, in the living room. Chris is there]

CHRIS: Hi, Ian.

IAN: Hi, Chris, I got good news. Janus has woken up.

CHRIS: [happy] Really? That’s so cool! Is he okay?

IAN: Yes, he’s okay, thanks to Patton, and he’s ready to enter autopilot when Joan gives us the signal. Where are your parents?

CHRIS: Upstairs. I think they’re finally having a good conversation after weeks.

IAN: That’s good to know. The Paladin’s words affected Virgil very much.

CHRIS: Yeah, I know. I had never seen him like that. He’s been so distant of my father… even of me. I even thought that, as soon as father got better, dad was going to ask him for the divorce. I guess he changed his mind, cause when I came around their door to ask what they wanted for dinner, I heard them muffled-giggling and saying loving things to each other. As they usually do after an argument, they took the saying “kiss and makeup” literally, if you know what I mean, so I decided not to disturb them.

IAN: Well, we gotta warn them that they must be in autopilot too…

CHRIS: Oh, don’t worry. I’m positive they’re already in autopilot.

IAN: All right, if you say so. Tell them the good news about Janus when you can, okay?

CHRIS: Okay, I will. Thanks for the warning Ian. Glad that Janus is okay.

IAN: You’re welcome. [sinks down]

CHRIS: Janus waking up, Thomas back to normal, my father almost recovered and my dad giving him another chance… it seems that things are starting to look up at last…

[suddenly there’s angry yelling coming from upstairs]

CHRIS: Perhaps I spoke too soon… What is going on up there? Dad! Father! What’s the matter!?

[the sound of the bedroom door slamming open upstairs is heard and Virgil rushes down the stairs. Roman follows him. Virgil is furious, Roman tries to calm him down]

ROMAN: I swear it wasn’t me who said that, and I swear it’s not true!

VIRGIL: Yeah, right! Of course it isn’t true! These words came out of your mouth, I remind you, and the last time the Paladin spoke through your lips, he was saying the truth!

ROMAN: This time, like the last time, he twisted the truth, Virgil! I swear!

CHRIS: Whoa! Whoa! Time up! What is going on here!?

VIRGIL: What is going on here? We were done making… things up, when suddenly the Paladin started speaking through your father’s mouth!

CHRIS: The Paladin? Again?

ROMAN: It was only a few seconds! And I quickly reined him in!

VIRGIL: But not before he said a devastating truth about me! Something that your father thinks for real about me!

CHRIS: And what truth is that if I might know?

VIRGIL: He blames me for your leg injury! He doesn’t believe I’m good enough to be your father and he thinks I’m a bad influence for you and you’re better off without me!

CHRIS: What? Father, is that what you think?

ROMAN: I don’t think that! Virgil, you’re good enough to be Chris’ father, I’ve always said that!

VIRGIL: But your thoughts are very different from your sayings! Admit it! Admit you were saying the truth!

ROMAN: I… I’ll only admit that I do believe that you’ve been a hinder in Chris’ development as a Side. And you have to admit it was true as it was you who said it first. But I also believe I’m not better than you on the matter, and I also believe you didn’t do it on purpose and you do your best to change for the better, and that’s what’s important to me! You have to believe me! The Paladin took my thoughts out of context and twisted them! Please, trust me!

VIRGIL: I can’t! I’ve tried, but I can’t trust you anymore! I don’t know when you’re being honest about your feelings towards me, or when you’re lying or hiding things from me! How much are you keeping to yourself about me that you don’t want me to know? Tell me! How much!?

ROMAN: Virgil, please, I swear whatever I avoid saying to you is not as bad as you think it is! Please, don’t be so para…!

[Roman covers his mouth. Virgil looks at Roman with a face of shock that leads to a face of anger and tears]

VIRGIL: Come on, say it! You think I’m a paranoid! At least this time you’ve said it in my face with your own free voice!

ROMAN: Virgil, I… I…

VIRGIL: [yelling] Save your excuses, Roman! I can’t… [makes a pause, fighting tears] I need to leave this room. I need to get away from you.

ROMAN: [horrified] What? Are you… breaking up with me?

VIRGIL: Maybe… Maybe not… I don’t know… I need to think, and I need to be alone to do so. Since now you’re strong enough to stand still, you don’t need my care anymore, so I’m going back to my own room right now.

ROMAN: [in despair] Virgil, please… don’t leave me! Not like this! Not because of this! I swear that I love you! And I know for certain that you love me! Can’t we talk this out like civilized people?

VIRGIL: Not now, Roman. Yes, I still love you to my despair, and I know that, despite it all, you love me, but… sometimes… love is not enough. I need some room to breathe and put my ideas in order. Please, if you love me, don’t go look for me.

ROMAN: [sighs] As you wish, Virgil…

CHRIS: Before you go… Ian has warned us that we must all enter autopilot when Joan gives us the signal, to restore Thomas’ connection with us.

VIRGIL: I understand… Don’t worry about that. I’m gonna stay in autopilot for a very long time. And I’m not ducking out altogether because I don’t want to put Thomas’ mental health at risk again, but right now… I just wanna be alone and not see anyone. Bye, Chris. Goodbye, Roman.

[Virgil sinks down. Roman looks at the empty space where he was standing. Then, tears start falling down his cheeks, and he starts sobbing heavily as if he was running out of air or as if he was on the verge of crying aloud. Chris hugs him]

CHRIS: Father, don’t worry, I’m sure that when his anger wears off, you’ll have your chance to talk to him more calmly. Now give him some time. I’m sure your mutual love will prevail eventually.

ROMAN: [sobbing] I hate the Paladin inside of me. He brings up every wrongdoing I’ve ever done, even in my mind, puts it out of context and uses it against me. I swear I don’t think that Virgil is harmful to you. I swear!

CHRIS: And I believe you, father.

[Suddenly, the sobbing stops abruptly and Roman starts getting sick]

CHRIS: Father? Father, what’s wrong with you!?

[Roman has to rush to the bathroom where he loudly vomits off-screen]

CHRIS: Father! What was that!? Are you okay?

[after some time, he gets out of the bathroom]

ROMAN: Yeah, I don’t know what’s happened to me… I suddenly got very sick and I couldn’t help myself… Perhaps it’s residual effects from the illness, or perhaps it’s because of the nervous breakdown I just had. I hope… because the last time someone vomited like this… But that couldn’t be, that’s impossible. It couldn’t be that… could it?

CHRIS: You lost me…

ROMAN: Never mind, I was talking to myself. It couldn’t be that… I hope…

[Chris stares at Roman with a face of confusion. Then Ian rises up]

IAN: Okay, guys, everything’s ready. Everyone enter autopilot now! Where is Virgil?

CHRIS: He’s in his room.

IAN: Is everything… okay? Roman, your eyes are red and your face is white as a ghost. What happened?

ROMAN: It’s okay, I’ll… I’ll be fine… it’s only a… a disagreement between Virgil and I, that’s all…

IAN: Okay, I’m lost, how could everything here change so radically in a matter of five literal minutes?

CHRIS: Don’t worry, uncle Ian, we’ll be fine… And Virgil is in autopilot too, so don’t worry about him either…

IAN: Okay, if you say so. But remember I’ll be there for anything you guys need, okay?

CHRIS: Thank you so much, Ian… Okay, you came for the autopilot, and autopilot you will get. Let’s hope everything goes right. Ready, father?

ROMAN: Ready.

CHRIS: Entering autopilot… now.

[end card]

[Talyn is about to wake Joan and Thomas up from their hypnosis, after Logan guided them on the synchronization like the last time]

TALYN: Three… two… one… Wake up!

[Talyn claps their hands and both Thomas and Joan wake up]

JOAN: Well? Do you think it worked?

THOMAS: There is only one way to find out… Logan, come here, please!

LOGAN: I’m already here, Thomas. Perhaps it didn’t…

THOMAS: No, it did, somehow, Logan, I can hear you! But I can’t see you… wait, what’s that…?

[Logan’s image starts appearing blurry in his spot, after a couple of seconds, he becomes completely sharp]

THOMAS: [happy] Now I can see you! It worked! I’m so happy to see you again, Logan!

LOGAN: [smiles] And I’m happy to know it worked, Thomas.

THOMAS: I got so scared for a second it wouldn’t have worked and everything today had been useless… It’s so good to see that now everything’s back to normal again, at least what I consider normal in my life. I know any other people would consider your absence as regaining normality, but… I don’t know if I would have coped to give up your company, guys, after having you in my life since forever.

LOGAN: Hearing those words feels… adequate, Thomas.

THOMAS: How is everybody doing? No, don’t tell me, I’ll call everyone so that they tell me themselves. Roman, Patton, Virgil, Janus, Remus, Chris, Ian! Everybody come here!

[all the Sides rise up except Virgil. Janus is already wearing his usual outfit and snake makeup, including a brand new bowler hat]

JANUS: Hi, Thomas. I’m not happy at all to see you. Just kidding.

THOMAS: Hi, Janus. Joan told me what you’ve been going through. Glad that you’re okay now.

JANUS: Thank you, Thomas. And look, Remus gifted me a brand new bowler hat.

REMUS: Of course I did, you couldn’t go around wearing that crushed bowler hat, could you? That’s more my thing, you know?

ROMAN: [with a smile] Hi, Thomas. I’m sorry for all the fuzz I’ve caused to you.

THOMAS: It… it wasn’t your fault, Roman. In fact, among all of us, you’re the one who has suffered the most from all of this, so it’s me who should apologize to you. You were the worst victim of this illness, which now I’ve got under control. Doctors said that if I keep my treatment and healthy habits, I’ll have a perfectly normal life. And if I’m healthy in the hopes and dreams department, so will you.

ROMAN: I’m happy for you, Thomas. Maybe it’s a little late for me, but I’m happy for you.

THOMAS: What do you mean? By the way, where is Virgil? He’s the only one who didn’t show up.

[Roman’s smile starts trembling. Soon he can no longer fight the tears and his act drops down completely. He turns around quickly and the others except Chris and Ian look at him in shock. Chris and Ian look at him in sadness]

THOMAS: Roman, what’s wrong?

CHRIS: Well, I guess you all would have found out sooner or later. You see… my parents are separating, at least for the time being. Virgil has returned to his own room and currently is in autopilot, as he doesn’t want to see anybody.

THOMAS: But what happened? I hope it’s not because of me.

CHRIS: No, don’t worry, it’s not your fault. It’s complicated, Thomas. For now, at least, it’s not definitive. Virgil hasn’t asked for the divorce yet, so technically they’re still married. It’s just that Virgil needs time to think alone, that’s all… Father, what’s the matter?

[They all look at Roman and they see him retching, still facing the wall. He quickly summons a huge bucket and vomits inside. Then he summons the bucket away and turns around, showing a sick face]

ROMAN: Ugh… I’m sorry, guys… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Perhaps it’s residual effects of the illness, or maybe it’s the stress of my breakup with Virgil…

CHRIS: Father, you still haven’t really broken up. There may be a chance for you to fix things up. Dad still loves you, he admitted it. Your bond surely can’t be broken up so easily.

PATTON: I’ll have to talk to my son. Maybe I can help him on this.

ROMAN: If you could help him, Patton, I’d be very grateful.

PATTON: I’ll do my best, Roman. But if he decides to carry on with the break up, you know as his father, I’ll have to support him. I hope you understand.

ROMAN: I understand, Patton. As long as I don’t lose your friendship, I couldn’t bear it happening too…

PATTON: Of course you won’t, Roman! You will always be my friend, no matter what, and you’ll still be my son-in-law, even if not “legally”.

ROMAN: That means a lot to me, Patton, thank you.

PATTON: And now that I’m here with you, Chris, let me see that leg of yours.

CHRIS: What? My leg? Why?

JANUS: [smirks] Just wait and see, Chris. Let Patton work his new magic.

CHRIS: [confused] Okay…

[Patton touches Chris’ leg. A light blue glow appears around the leg and Chris looks at it, stunned, just as stunned as the others watching except the ones who were in Janus’ room earlier. A few seconds later, the glow disappears]

PATTON: Done. How do you feel now?

CHRIS: About what? Wait… my leg… it feels less weak and I no longer feel any pain when I rest on that foot… Why, I can stand on my foot normally! My leg is healed! Grandpa, how did you do that?

PATTON: It’s a gift from the Core, the same gift I used to heal Janus. I’m just grateful that I can use it for your benefit, kiddos.

CHRIS: [happy, summoning his crutches away] Thank you, grandpa! You’ve saved me months of recovery! I love you!

PATTON: Love ya back, grandson. I hope I can still help all of you in the future… [suddenly looking at Roman, scared] Roman! Look out!

[Suddenly, Roman seems to get dizzy. He loses balance and falls, but Chris and Patton grab him before he hits the floor]

CHRIS: Father, what gives!? This isn’t normal!

ROMAN: [shaking his head and regaining balance] I know… Suddenly my head started spinning… And I think I know what’s going on. I didn’t wanna believe it, especially after being with Virgil only one single time in the last couple of weeks, but, judging for what Virgil told me in the past that he felt, which is the same I’m feeling now, I guess it’s true…

CHRIS: What do you mean?

ROMAN: Vomiting, dizziness, this strange feeling in my tummy… Chris… I hope that you’re ready.

CHRIS: Ready? Ready… for what?

ROMAN: Have you ever imagined having a brother?

[there’s a short moment of silence]

EVERYBODY BUT ROMAN: [yelling at the same time] Whaaaaaaaaaaaat!??????

[a sign reads “To be concluded, guys, gals and non binary pals”]

[mordigen]

I had not written anything in a minute, as I typically use this as my sounding board, or soap box, if you will....but I guess things just hadn't gotten under my skin lately to make me feel the need to sound off. Which is a beautiful thing, I suppose, even if writing is lacking.

Indeed it has been quite....quiet, quite harmonious within the circles I frequent. Which is unusual, especially as we've had a couple Holidays, which usually stirs all the controversy. And I know with my last 3 part post I noted I had much more to talk about....but I've forgotten them all. So, they must not have been that important, eh?

It has been nice.

But (as there's always a but) in this quiet time I noticed something else - something I am certainly not unfamiliar with, but have never talked about, or confronted at all really.

I find myself feeling drawn away - and no, not in the depressive sense, as I am also certainly not unfamiliar with, but in a way that I have a hard time defining.

It is melancholy in the sense that it feels like a deep seated yearning - but not in a bad way, by any means, as I feel like if those yearnings didn't come and go over time, then I wouldn't be wholly myself. They are a part of me - they are not a bad thing, even if bittersweet.

They ebb and flow, and sometimes recede completely - at other times consume me completely. Though they usually hit me without warning, they start gradually and I can feel the oncoming tide. And once they've run their course, they recede just as swiftly, and gently, as they've rushed upon me.

It has happened for as long as I can, lucidly, remember. Though putting an exact date or age to it is difficult, as childhood memories tend to mesh and bleed together over the years, it can easily be said adolescence, at least, so it has been quite some time. But I still haven't ever gotten used to them, or have figured out how to cope with them - mentally or emotionally, anyhow. They do not prevent me from functioning or living my life, but they do wreck my mental state in a way. Though, I'm not sure I want to figure out how to cope with that...

I have been told by various people, at various points in my life, that I suffer from various forms of a disassociative disorder. Knowing I have depression issues I have investigated....but, No. Just no - it's not right. In all the many ones I have done ample research in, it's just not right - that is not me, that is not what I am experiencing. That is not what is happening, the "symptoms", even if some appear similar superficially, are all wrong.

When I say I feel drawn away, I do not mean I feel *detached*. That is a very big distinction - I'm feeling pulled away, to somewhere or something else, I do not feel disconnected. You can feel a connection to multiple things at once - so to be pulled into a something or somewhere else doesn't mean I have to detach, or "disassociate" with the here and now. I don't. Perhaps it is a foreign thing to try to describe to someone who has never experienced it before, and yes it is a hard to find the right words to begin with to really explain it in depth - but it's not that I "disassociate". Stop calling it that.

It is this very reason why I have never talked about it in depth at all, because even the slightest mention of anything puts others on high-alert. I know they are only trying to help, but no - you are not listening, you are not understanding. The best, and simplest, way I can recount it is like prioritizing. This thing - it's always there. It's always in me, and sometimes it just needs it's time. It doesn't even come first, as I still put all the needs and wants and important bits of this finite world first and foremost, but it needs its time in the sun, too.

As a child, they would say I was "dreamy" or just had an active imagination - I would day dream frequently, locked up inside my own head. Though I loved to play, and read, and write, and draw, I didn't need those things to enjoy my time. I could lay around for hours, in my own thoughts, completely happy and content, drawn away, off on an adventure, listening to the silent things whisper when they think no one is listening. I would doze and nap, and sleep extra long through the night - not because I was bored, or tired, but just because it gave me time in my own head - in my 'dreamland', where all these other things happened that wouldn't - or couldn't - in the waking world. As a young child, these were always described as good things....as a teen, it's often described as having your "head in the clouds" - something that is not necessarily good or bad, potentially problematic if left unchecked, but still nonetheless endearing. But as an adult? Phh. Well. Something must be wrong with you.

You're expected to grow out of it, but I find in adulthood it hits harder, and comes heavier, than ever as a child. Possibly because as children we're given room to indulge...it's creative, imaginative, learning to be content with your own company is touted as idealistic means of coping skills and personal growth - until it isn't.

For an extended time of my adult years I was wrongfully persuaded that it was hormonal as others had noted I tended to feel this 'drawing' around my cycle. I do get more emotional, and boy does the fatigue hit hard - but that still didn't make sense to me as it didn't happen *every* time on my cycle, and there were plenty of times it happened not on my cycle at all. Well, it doesn't have to happen everytime for it to be related, and hormones fluctuate throughout the whole month, so you don't have to actually be physically bleeding for it to be cycle related. What a cop out. With that logic, anything and everything under the sun and moon can be "cycle related". Bonus points deducted for the fact that every person telling me this was also, in fact, a woman. Shame. Lazy medicine right there. Lazy womanhood right there. And that's not even a feminist statement - that's just a common sense statement. Oh, so is every possible problem you ever have because of your period, M'AM ? So stupid. Stupider, yet, is that I listened to them. But I did, and I followed their suggestions - none of them worked, but with each new wave I would think the next would be better and easier if I just stayed the course - ignoring the fact that nothing was inherently wrong, and that this was only deemed an "issue" as it was categorized as "abnormal" and therefore must be fixed.

What I have come to realize now is that all those incidents - people wanting to categorize me with mental disorders, emotional disorders, or hormonal imbalances - call came at I time when I was, in fact, disconnected with something : my spirituality. I didn't have any type of falling out, or disillusioned from anything I ever believed in. Life just simply got in the way, I had more important things to worry about and do, and much less time to do them all in, so you just let certain things go that are not as pressing. Looking back at it now, I think maybe that is why they pulled on me harder in those years. Perhaps it was something drawing back in... I'd like to believe so, anyhow. And that's why I was stupid enough to believe doctors, and counselors, about stupid things I knew were not right - because I wasn't listening to the other half. And of course, nothing the ever suggested ever made one bit of difference - because it's not what was happening to me. And truthfully, because nothing was ever wrong.

As life started to level out, I slowly started doing little things here and there with my beliefs, with my workings. Little things, but baby steps, right? You can't just get off the couch and run a marathon - you have to warm up those muscles, start exercising those parts that have atrophied, and retraining your skills. Same applies - baby steps. It grew slowly over a few years - the tidal waves kept their course, as they do, and I just sort of accepted it at face value. But then the pandemic hit, and the world shut down. And boy, did I have all the time in the world.....and I used it.

Over this last year what I have come to realize is that, firstly - I was absolutely not alone. But also that I wasn't really paying as much attention as I thought I was - or my attention was skewed , by 'professionals', to focus on the wrong things. There was much more a pattern than I had ever noticed. These waves didn't come out of nowhere - though once they were on me, I could feel the gradual build - but before they ever even tickled my feet there were signs, there were patterns. I'd have days of restless nights, strange dreams, then it would fold into die-hard sleep, with absolutely no dreams at all - but waking as if I hadn't slept a wink and had been working all through the night. I'd wake with aches and strains, sometimes even bruises. We'd joke that our mattress was beating us up at night - we even forked out decent money for a brand new one. It's fabulous, and it solved zero of my problems, though my husband now sleeps like a baby...

It's only after these restless, exhausting nights does the tide start to flow back in, and the dreamy, dozey longing set in. The ache for something I cannot put my finger on, and the willingness to relent and let it take me away, even for just a time, and indulge in that pulling out to sea. I let it take me now - I do not fight it, I do not endure it, I let it take me and draw me out. And this is what so many professionals call "disassociating" - but that's not right. That's not what's happening.

And this is not some great spiritual come to Jeesus moment I am preaching to any of you, or certainly not meaning to be, but just the simplicity of paying attention. We, as pagans, just have the driven, inherent understansung that there are many more forces, and much more out there than what you see on the surface. And I had forgotten. Though I've kept my mouth shut, I've taken note when the topics and discussions come up - tons of people were in my very shoes. But they had been paying attention all along. I had forgotten. Some of the stories thrown out there I can't always get behind. Some of them are just flat out - No. But there were many more that weren't - they talked of the moon. The conjunctions. Astral travel. Being spirited away in the night. The veils. The Oran Mór. I was so stupid, I had been so blind.

And then, this year of much more laxed time gave me the opportunity to actually listen. These tides... their pattern.

The restless nights always came with the moons - these tides, they always came around significant dates....days when the veils are thinning. And now, as I feel the sweeping tides begin to pull again - here we are. Bealtaine is on the horizon. And as I wrack my memories.... every time.

Every. Time.

What is happening to me exactly? I still do not know - is this the call of the Oran Mór? Are the veils pulling at something deep inside me? Are the Fae trying to steal me away, as so many are quick to warn... Is there danger in letting the tides take me? Is this some deeper part of me being drawn home, trying to jar me to pay closer attention to things I have left forgotten? Something in there makes me think of my brothers...

I don't know all these answers, but I can't ignore them now that I've taken the time to listen. What I do know is that, whatever they may be - I don't want these tides to leave me. And believing that doesn't give me a dissociative disorder.

[saltoftheao3]

AO3 tags 101

So to classify its content Archive Of Our Own uses a system called “tagging”, and I’ve seen quite a lot of people puzzled as to how exactly it is used. This is going to be a long post trying to clear that up, and hopefully providing some help and orientation.

(i am going to use a lot of fanfiction terminology in this post – you can look a lot of it up in this post)

What is tagging?

To cite the AO3 FAQ: “A tag is a keyword or phrase that you add to your works to make them easier to find.“ Tags also have the, at least as important purpose, of helping readers avoid content they don’t want to read.

Some of the AO3 tags are more or less mandatory: you have to chose a fandom, a rating, an archive warning from the available options (and be it “chose not to use those options”). 

Those mandatory tags have pretty detailed explanation boxes, which is why i’m focusing on the more puzzling domain of “Additional tags”, or “Freeform tags”:

(As said in its name, those tags are “freeform”, which means the author is entirely free to chose whatever keywords and catchphrase they want, be it some common tags, misspelled common tags, or new tags they’re introducing. If it’s a new tag, the AO3 tag wrangling staff then checks if it fits into a more common category, or if it stands on its own. 

I’ve seen people asking the following questions:

Why do i have to use freeform tags?

Well first off you absolutely don’t have to. But it gives readers additional info on whether your fic fits their taste, and can therefore get more people to read it. 

I know sometimes i look at the summary, think “meh”, but then i see in the tags that the fic uses some of my favorite tropes and end up giving it a shot. 

Also, it helps people find your fic again! A former reader is wondering “Oh, dang, i don’t remember the name nor the author but it had unicorns and mutual pining”? If your fic uses those tags they can find it without any problem through the search engine.

And, and i can’t stress this enough: it helps people that absolutely loathe the kind of content you create (because sensibilities are different, so sometimes it’s bound to happen) to stay waaay clear of it. Which is good for everybody involved.

But what if it spoilers my story?

Fear not! AO3 offers the neat option to hide the freeform tags as a default (for logged-in users); so whether your readers decide to look at the tags or not is completely up to them. 

Me? I very rarely look at tags. I dislike being spoilered, and i accept that i’ll probably end up reading things that don’t really float my boat as a consequence. And on the contrary i have friends who’d much rather put up with spoilers if it means they know what they’re getting into. Matter of personal taste, really! 

As an author you can merely provide that option for readers who enjoy additional info beforehand. It’s a bit of a friendly courtesy.

How many tags should I use?

Again, it’s completely up to personal taste. I’m not a big fan of huge walls of tags, because i don’t think they’re read in details by most readers, so i’d recommend between 3-7 tags for shorter stories (<5k words). For longer stories, readers often want to know in more details in what journey they’re getting into, so up to twenty tags is game in my books. More than that tends to look cluttered and distracting (again, my biased opinion).

What kind of tags should I use?

*rubs hands* This is where I suggest my neat lil’ classification of freeform tags (with some minor overlaps here and there). It’s based on observations and my own fandom experiences, so obviously it has no objective value, but i think it’s still a good summary of the different types of freeform tags used for most fics. Some kind of fics (i’m thinking PWP) have slightly different tagging conventions, but the following typology applies to most stories. 

You can use it as a checklist, or simply as inspiration on what kind of tags might apply to your fic.

Here’s my typology!

1. Format

These tags specify if your fic follows a particular fixed format in regard to length and style. Here’s some of the most common “format tags”:

(Double/Triple) Drabble 

Epistolary 

Ficlet (Collection)

Imagine 

Novel/Novella 

(Short) One Shot 

Poetry

POV First Person

Self-Insert

Screenplay/Script Format

Songfic

Stand Alone

Vignette ...

2. Genre

This one’s already a bit more tricky because so often there’s no over-arching “genre” in which your fic might fit (which is why there’s all the other tags to help you put some kind of label on your content!). Still, genre is a pretty important descriptor for your content; hence here are some of the common “fanfic genres”:  

Action/Adventure

Angst

Badfic

Character Study

Crack

Dark(-fic)

Fluff

Friendship

Humor

Horror

Kidfic

Romance

RPF/RPS

Porn Without Plot/Plot What Plot ...

3. Relationship to Canon

That’s one super cool in my books, because it’s sooo unique to fanfic. It specifies in what kind of relationship to the original content your story operates. Most common tags:

Alternate Timeline

Alternate Universe

Alternate Universe: X (e.g. werewolves)

Backstory

Canon-compliant

Canon-divergent

Crossover

Fix-It

Fusion

Missing Scene

Post-Canon

Pre-Canon/Pre-Series

Reboot ...

4. Fandom-specific tags

These tags are particularly relevant for book or movie series where the overarching fandom tag covers a really broad amount of content. Those tags give orientation in regards to which part of the canon content we’re talking about. For example, Harry Potter fandom may use terms like “Marauders’ Era” or “The Golden Trio Era” to specify what part of the original timeline the fic takes place in. 

But they also apply to fandom-specific events like Big Bangs/Reverse Big Bang, or fandom-specific tropes, genres and fanfic conventions. These are different for every fandom!

5. Common Fanfic Tropes

There’s a slight overlapping with “genre”, but all in all those tropes are a bit more specific, though widespread enough to be recognizable to avid fanfic readers.

Domestic

Everyone is alive

Fuck or Die

Getting together

Hurt/Comfort

Pining

Sex Pollen

Slow Burn

Soulmates

Time Travel

UST   

Whump ...    

And last but not least:

6. Content Warnings

Reminder that there’s mandatory archive warnings for AO3’s big four (underage sexual content, non-con/rape, graphic depictions of violence, character death) that you have to use, or at least indicate to readers you chose not to use them. 

You are not required to use further content warnings and no one can blame you for it, as long as you used the mandatory warnings properly. But there are some benefits to additional content warnings:

1. It frames the “problematic behavior XY” (e.g emotional blackmail) you depicted as a problematic behavior, which makes readers both aware that it’s Bad™ (important especially for younger audiences) and that the author knows it’s Bad™.

2. It helps people that wouldn’t enjoy that content avoid it, which, good for them, good for you

3. It helps people that are actively searching for specific dark and difficult topics, for whichever reason, to find them.

All in all i’d say it has established itself as a widespread fandom etiquette to tag content commonly viewed as squicky/triggery. Here are some of the most common ones:

(Past/Implied) (Child/Emotional) Abuse

Age Difference

Alcohol/Drugs

Body Horror

Coercion/Jealousy/Manipulation

(Very) Dubious Consent

Gore

Kinks

Mental Health Issues (Eating Disorders, PTSD, Depression etc.)

Pregnancy/Abortion/Miscarriage

(Internalized) Racism/Homophobia/Misogyny

Explicit Sexual Content

Terminal Illness

Torture

Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts ...

(and here’s a far more complete list of content warnings, but you get the gist)

Voilà! 

[mymarvelbunch]

Different Roads... Same Destination: Part One

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (established)

Summary: When the Avengers went back in time to get the Infinity Stones, new timelines were created. By not delivering them back to their exact same spots, you and Steve created major changes in those timelines. What happened? (Non-American!Reader)

This is a sequel to “Be Your Own Hero”. I highly recommend you read it first, since it features many major changes in canon that are addressed here.

Notes: Y/N = your (first) name; Y/Co = your home country; Y/Ci = your home city; Y/N/L = your native language (to be ignored in case you speak English).

Masterlist

Part One

New York, 2012

The Avengers were still trying to understand what happened when a loud ‘thud’ was heard. Tony turned to see the Scepter lying on the ground.

“Well, here is the thing Loki used to brainwash people”, he said. “But where is the Tesseract?”

“This isn’t the Mind Stone”, Loki said. “They placed the Tesseract in the Scepter.”

Everyone turned to him. He had already been right minutes prior, when he pointed out there were four Avengers from the future. Now the team was more inclined to believe him again, especially Thor.

“How do you know this, brother?”, he asked, frowning.

“The glow is different, for starters. And... I don’t know how to say this accurately, but I feel different when the Mind Stone is near me. Ever since those warriors came from the future and took it, I felt... lightweight, even if for brief moments. As if...”

Thor’s eyes widened. “As if the Mind Stone has some sort of power over you.” Loki nodded weakly. “Well, this is important information. Mother will certainly know to fix this. Stark, hand me the Scepter. It will be safer in Asgard.”

A SHIELD agent opened his mouth to protest, but there was little they could do as Tony gave Thor the Scepter. The Asgardian walked to the open balcony, his brother in his arm, and left, though not without asking his ‘brothers-in-arms’ to find the Mind Stone first.

“We’ll do surveillance around the Tower”, Runlow said, “with your permission, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. I don’t want that thing near any of us.”

~~

“Wait”, Tony said. “Loki was under mind control back then?” 

You turned behind to face him, but a quick glance told you almost everyone was surprised. “You didn’t know? He told me back in 2014.”

Loki wasn’t there to defend himself, busy as he was being king, but Thor was. “Honestly, I didn’t know either, not until Asgard was destroyed. Loki told me on our way here that Mother chose to perform her purification spells out of everyone’s eye because... It would be better (or less worse) to have people believe Loki had turned evil than to have them know about Thanos. But yes, he was under Thanos’ influence through the Mind Stone. It wasn’t exactly like what he did to Barton and others, but close enough.”

That made an awful lot of sense. No one had a good answer for that, and they turned back to the ‘screen’.

~~

It took five years for the Mind Stone to be found. In the meantime, SHIELD was dismantled, the Winter Soldier was revealed to be a brainwashed Bucky Barnes and HYDRA was taken down piece by piece.

There was no Scarlet Witch, no Quicksilver, no Ultron, no Sokkovia Accords, no Zemo. Steve found Bucky in Bucarest in 2016 and, after weeks of talking and with Sam’s help, took him to New York. There, they faced another battle, as many people wanted him in jail for the crimes he committed as the Winter Soldier.

Surprisingly, their help came from Tony. “I know what he did to my parents, yeah. I read all those files Romanov leaked. But we all saw what brainwashing does to a person, huh?”

No, Tony and Bucky didn’t become friends. Despite his forgiveness, Tony was still wary of him; poor man had his own mental health issues to face already. But he was willing to pay the best lawyers to convince the public that Barnes had no control over himself for the past seven decades, and that the Winter Soldier was nothing but a weapon in HYDRA’s hands. It took time and money, but it was worth it, for Bucky was absolved and reclaimed his status as war hero.

Even so, he didn’t want to stay in US. “Too many memories”, he explained, and Steve understood. It all got worse when one of Tony’s employees found a glowing Stone in the elevator shaft. Thor wasn’t on Earth when it happened, so the Mind Stone stayed at the Tower for a while. Needless to say, Steve was worried, and Bucky was terrified.

“I found a place that might be good for you”, Maria Hill told him one day. “Y/Ci, in Y/Co. It’s a place untouched by HYDRA and with no evidence that the Winter Soldier ever stepped foot in there. No memories, no triggers.”

Bucky accepted the offer almost immediately, and Steve was happy to follow him. “I’ve had enough fights for a lifetime”, he said. “We should have retired from soldier duty decades ago, Bucky. We both deserve a normal life.”

It was early 2018 when they finally settled, and, upon Steve’s insistence, Bucky started looking for mental health care facilities.

~~

Your grip on Steve’s hand tightened when you recognized the mental health facility Bucky got inside. “I was an intern there at college”, you said. Steve’s eyes widened, and he grinned.

“Maybe Bucky will be the one to get you instead of me”, he teased.

Behind you, whispers could be heard.

“It’s weird to not see myself with you guys”, Wanda said. “I wish I could know if Pietro is alive.” Vision rested his hand on her shoulder, likely reflecting on how would his life be if he had stayed as a disembodied voice.

“Wakanda wasn’t even mentioned”, Shuri said. “I guess with father still alive, the borders remained closed.”

“Probably the reason why Bucky moved to Y/Co instead of Wakanda”, Sam added. “If people still think Wakanda is a poor country, no one would think of it as a mental health care reference.”

“I’m not mentioned either”, Scott said, “which is kind of weird, because I don’t see why I wouldn’t meet at least Sam.”

“Yeah, but there was no fight in Germany for you to take part of”, Hope replied. “They probably never contacted you again. Parker isn’t mentioned either.”

Someone shushed them.

~~

Even though he had scheduled it all by himself, Bucky didn’t want to go his first appointment alone. So, when Y/N called for Sebastian Stan (his new alias), he and Steve (who called himself Chris Evans) stood up together from their seats.

Inside, Bucky soon confessed his true identity. Your surprise was visible for five seconds, and then you smiled. “I’m glad you trusted me with such a delicate information, Mr. Barnes. But I wish you’d tell me your story with your own words, not just what was said about you on newspapers.”

Steve stayed inside the whole time, having also revealed who he was. Bucky didn’t tell his whole story at once, give there was a time limit for his appointment, but you asked him to come back in a week. “We can’t give you any concrete diagnosis for now, Mr. Barnes, though we have a few suspicions. But I assure you we’ll help you in every step of your recovery. You won’t be alone.”

After three more sessions, he was diagnosed primarily with PTSD, along with general anxiety disorder and memory problems (he had yet to remember key details of his past).

You were supposed to leave the facility at the end of the month, but your mentor offered you a prolonged stay. “You mentioned your next internship would be in surgery, and you don’t like it, right? I can pull some strings to keep you here. It’s not like you’ll need those skills to become a psychiatrist.”

You happily accepted his help. You’ve always been sure of what you wanted to do after finishing college; skipping surgery internship was honestly a dream come true, and you were eager to follow Barnes’ case. Your classmates didn’t know his true identity, but the case discussions made it clear you got one of the most complex cases at the facility, and some classmates envied you.

Your teacher was successful, and for the following three months you stayed, taking care not only of Barnes, but of other patients as well. It was a wonderful experience, and you were sure you had fallen into the staff’s good graces, which increased your chances at getting into residency program there after graduation.

As the weeks went by, though, you noticed something rather odd. Barnes had been getting inside the room alone since his fifth appointment, but Rogers still accompanied him, waiting for him outside. Eventually, you asked your patient why that was, assuming he’d say he still didn’t feel safe coming alone. Instead, he grinned.

“Oh, he pretends he comes for my sake, but he actually just wants to get a glimpse of you.”

You nearly choked on your own saliva.

~~

At your side, Steve laughed and hugged you tight.

“Guess I didn’t steal Y/N from you after all, punk”, Bucky said, grinning just like his alternate counterpart.

“Thank God”, you replied. “No offence, Bucky, but seeing us dating would have been way too awkward.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

---x---

It wasn’t easy for Steve to convince you to go on a date with him. You were hesitant, given he was her patient’s best friend and roommate, but eventually you conceded.

“We won’t talk about Barnes at all”, you said firmly. “And if I sense this will affect my relationship with my patient, it’ll be over.”

“Yes, ma’am”, he replied instantly, willing to do anything to see you more.

You had charmed him from day one, and his interest on you only grew as weeks went by. When the day of your date arrived, he was a nervous wreck.

“Haven’t seen you like this since Peggy”, Bucky mentioned.

“Shut up, jerk”, he retorted. “And go hide, I don’t want Y/N to see you and cancel our date.”

“She’s got you wrapped around her finger and you haven’t even kissed yet”, he teased, but left to his room anyway.

A date led to another, and another, and another... Steve waited for you to leave the facility and stop seeing Bucky to ask you to be his girlfriend, and she promptly agreed.

A year later, when you met the Avengers for the first time, Thor told the story of how he, Loki and others fought Thanos when he invaded Asgard to take the Space and Mind Stones. Your eyes widened as he gleefully detailed the purple alien’s demise.

“Glad you defeated him still in Asgard”, Tony said. “We just found out about another of these Stones here on Earth. A wizard here in New York is its guardian.”

“Really? Give me his address, I figure we have much to discuss.”

You didn’t really understand all those talks, but Steve’s visible relief was enough information for you.

~~

On the current timeline, that same relief was visible among everyone. “A peaceful timeline”, you commented. “I hope there are more of these.”

After Strange showed what happened to the Avengers who were not featured, Wong took his place to show another timeline. You straightened your back as the ‘screen’ showed you briefly kissing Steve in Morag.

~~

Did you like it? I was looking forward to write about the consequences of those changes. Butterfly effect is strong here.

For those who don’t remember, in ‘Be Your Own Hero’ Loki tells the Reader he was under the influence of the Mind Stone in the events of the first Avengers movie. This is a popular theory that explains some differences between his behavior in that movie and his behavior on... well, any other movie he’s in.

In this, I try to touch on how things would be different if this information was made known right away, instead of being kept a secret. Being seen as a victim instead of a villain changes a lot for Loki’s story, and therefore Thor’s arc as well (The Dark World and Ragnarok’s. It also helps Tony understand Bucky’s story and actions better, since he saw the effects of mind control on Clint and Loki.

Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver, Ultron and Vision are all products of the Mind Stone, meaning that, in its absence, they don’t exist. The events of Age of Ultron are what make Civil War happen, meaning one doesn’t exist without the other. With no Civil War, nobody reaches out to Scott, T’Challa doesn’t become king to open the borders, and Peter Parker’s role in Tony’s life is probably less significant (though I do believe he mentors the teenager anyway).

If you want to follow my crazy ideas on time travel and its consequences, taglist is open!

[oneshotnewbie]

Amelia Shepherd x Proud

Request: ahh there was no inbox option for some reason, but i was wondering if you would do an amelia shepherd x reader with reader having anorexia and amelia coaxes her through a meal?? totally okay if you choose not to though :)

 ---

TRIGGER WARNING! MENTION OF EATING DISORDER

Words: 1.327

---

You woke up from an inexplicable sleep. The light flooded the room, your eyes were blinded and you pinched them together.

It took them a while to adjust to the light. When they got to the point where you could open them without flinching away, you saw two women in front of you which were standing with their back to you.

“Where am I?” your raspy voice echoed like cracks through the room.

The brunette and the blonde turned around to face you and only now you realized that it was Arizona and Amelia standing there in their white coats, watching at something in the paediatric surgeon hands.

“Oh, thank god you are finally awake!” The neurosurgeon said softly as she walked towards your bed you lay in and sat down on the foot end. “You are at the hospital sweetheart.”

“Why am I..” right before you wanted to finish the sentence, you wanted to reach for your head but something in your arm started to itch.

You looked down and saw the needles in your arm which intertwined with a small back that hung on a pole beside you.

Nervous and almost panicky, you sat upright, wanted to remove the needle from your vein but a hand prevented you from doing so. You heart skipped a few beats and you looked into your sisters eyes which only smiled, already knowing why you were panicking.

“Calm down, it’s just liquid. You were dehydrated.”

Slowly you sat back, knowing that you could trust your sister. You tried to regain your normal heartbeat and breathing which helped by looking at your sister and holding her hand.

“Do you know what happened to you?” the blond haired once joined in and stood in front of your bed, ready to type in whatever you were about to tell her.

“Not really.” You started when you took another breath. “I was in the gym with my best friend. We were about to do some cardio on the treadmill. I felt dizzy but I didn’t bother. I got on it and everything went black around me.”

“Zona, could you give us a minute, please?” you sister asked her before she could even make up an sentence.

Of course she understood and didn’t want to disturb further. She shouted a “I’ll come back later” with a smile before she disappeared out the door which slipped behind her in the lock after her.

Now you were alone with your sister in the minimal, almost bare room; staring at her. Your sister wasn’t surprised that you landed here; she was the only one who knew your problem with food too well.

Not knowing exactly what to do or what to say, she bit her lip and looked back at you, hoping for an answer.

“I’m sorry” was the only thing you managed to sculpt before tears rolled down your face.

You were sure you had disappointed her, only recently did you promised her that you would feel better and that you wouldn’t need any therapy.

In fact, you felt better. You ate normal and you gained a bit of weight. But your thoughts came back and haunted you to no end. You relapsed; yet again.

“I tried it but..” you saw how your Amelia just got up, thinking she was going to leave.

Sobs came out and tears flowed like waterfalls over your cheek. “I lost the fight.” Your head sank down.

It wasn’t until then you realized how two arms were around you and you were relieved that she hadn’t left because of your stupidity.

You could always count on her.

“Shhh, everything is alright. Do you hear me? I’m here, we will fix this.”

She rocked you back and forth and it took some time before she broke away from you, took your face in her hands and looked at you. “When was the last time you ate something? No lies.”

“Yesterday morning.” You whispered, almost ashamed.

You saw the shocked expression and she let go of you. The neurosurgeon got up again, this time without a word, she left through the door and left you alone; crying without saying a word.

You had the belief that you had hurt your sisters too much and thought that it was right that she had left you alone.

You lay back in your bed, put the blanket up to your nose and cried bitterly as the guilt feelings plagued you.

You wanted to get better, for your sisters. She was the only one you had left out of your family who was there for you. You finally saw the danger you were in but you didn’t know how to get out of this hole.

The eating disorder accompanied you for years now and Amelia was always the one who stood by and tried to help you. But what should you do now if she decided that it was enough? That she couldn’t longer take the responsibility for your bullshit and didn’t manage to see her younger sibling approach death more and more?

The door opened and you heard something move next to you at the side. Slowly you looked up from the blanket and wiped your tears aside when you saw the brown haired standing with a chair by your side and pulling out your table on the scooter car next to you.

In front of you appeared a colourful salad.

“I know it will not be easy, but what is easy, right?” she started and opened the lid of the food. “I’m not going to start with ‘if you love me, you would eat’ because that’s nonsense and doesn’t help anyone, but I’ll tell you the truth. I will tell you here and now that you’re going to die if you don’t change something soon, and I don’t want that. I want many years with your silly and lighting attitude. I know it’s hard but I’ll go with you all these rocky roads and together we’ll make you get better again. I will not force you to do anything you don’t want, it’s your decision but I beg you, at least try. For me and especially for your own health and life.”

With these words, she has hit you more than any other word ever and you didn’t even have the incentive to think twice about it.

Slowly, with trembling hands, you took the plastic fork that Amelia held out to you and looked at the food in front of you.

Not only you had panic by looking at the individual ingredients, you just saw different red numbers in front of your eyes that literally jumped you. Now you were not so sure anymore.

But you wanted to get well. For her and especially your future. You wanted to experience so much and follow in the footsteps of Derek. Start your own family. Build a house with your husband. You’ve never been to New York and never seen the Northern Lights either.

You still had so much to do on earth and most of all, you wanted to experience it all healthy and not on Youtube while you were stuck in a bed in the hospital bed because you were too weak to even function right and needed to be fed with a tube in your nose.

You took another deep breath before stabbing the fork into a small tomato and slowly leading it you your mouth.

---

It has been some time and although you felt bed and you hated the feeling of being full, you were proud of yourself.

You almost ate the whole salad, just left the cucumbers and the olives you didn’t liked on the plate.

“I am so proud of you, sunshine.” She said, looking proudly at you with shining eyes and a big grin.

She gave you a big kiss on the cheek and a big hug before she started cleaning up. “I am proud of you.”

“Thank you. Thank you for everything.”