#To the point that he suffers from nightmares and flashbacks

[teencopandthesourwolf]

HOPE IS THE THING WITH FEATHERS

written for the @sterekdrabbles 06/06/25 challenge where the prompt words were DECAY, RUN, and BURST. i'm also tagging @sterekdrabblesgonelong as this obviously went long lol. the title is borrowed from the emily dickinson poem of the same name.

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In hindsight, sleeping at the old house was a pretty fucked up thing to do.

Laying your head in the eternally-charred ruins of your childhood home (on nights you're lucky enough to not be fighting for your life) was like being stuck on some sort of witch cursed roller coaster. The ride traversed a perilous track that set off at A Lot, lurched through the many gut-wrenching dips of Not Enough, to then end with a showstopping loop-the-loop finish of Much Too Much.

Maybe getting used to the smell of cinder and smoke was inevitable, because after a while Derek's senses barely seemed to register any ashen notes at all.

What lurked beneath was all that was left of Derek's pack. A bittersweet bouquet of shattered memories lingered in the bones of the Hale house, like an old fracture you suffered while checking an activity off your bucket list.

He hadn't thought there was anyone to question him on how he felt about it, but if somebody were to ask, Derek would pretend he didn't want to talk about the way he'd sometimes get a fragrant burst of the long-dead Lily of the Valley flowers his mom planted around the perimeter of the property, back before any of her children were born; or how he'd occasionally scent the sharp tang of whatever edible berries his younger siblings picked from the bramble bushes found in the northern parts of the preserve, sticky fingers rarely managing to bring home more than half their findings to be baked in a pie by Derek's dad; or how every now and then he'd catch the warm haze of melted wax from the candles he and Laura sometimes made together on rainy Sunday afternoons as children, infused with homegrown spearmint and lavender, or cinnamon and moss.

But just as the smell of burning had all but evaporated into the ether, the ghost-scents of Derek's family eventually drifted off into obscurity, too.

In the end, the only true essence Derek could detect of his loved ones was the cloying stench of decay, as constantly nauseating as it was horribly permanent. The stink of it settled in for the winter, taking up residence at the back of his throat, which was the same place his heart lived these days. That mess of an organ had been beaten and broken and nailed back together so many times by this point, it didn't sit as snugly as it might have done once upon a time, taking up more real estate than it was supposed to. There simply wasn't enough room in there for both to exist, each too big and too loud. Something had to give if Derek was to keep on surviving. If he was ever going to live again.

The flashbacks—remembered sensations of being cornered and tricked and orphaned, of being goaded, tortured by proxy—were back and threatening to take over Derek's psyche completely, likely to consume what remaining sanity he had left from the inside out.

Derek had to escape, needed to flee the waking nightmare he'd found himself in. He wanted to run again, and keep running, to get himself as far as possible from the living hell this rotting place had liberated in his mind.

So he ran, and he didn't look back.

The difference this time, was it turned out Derek wasn't running away but toward something.

The storm that had been brewing all day broke at the very same time Derek found himself outside 129 Woodbine Lane, standing directly under the chronically-open window situated at the front of the pale blue and white timber-clad house. With the sudden summer downpour soaking him instantly as it pelted down in harsh sheets, he quickly breathed in the heady mix of everything that room contained, before it got washed down the drain along with the dirt and the rain.

He scented engine oil and highlighter ink, coffee, Big Red gum and Skittles, all overlaying the spice of sweat and Sliquid™ and spunk—the cheap pine plug-ins and too much Lynx Africa body spray bravely attempting yet failing to mask it. The redolence wafted down brashly, filling Derek's nostrils with a sense of not just Teenage Boy, but something more curious; a base note that recently started smelling as if it could take flight, maybe even carry off some of Derek's grief and shame on its back.

Then the wretched thing that hid behind Derek's ribcage began to unfurl itself. Little by little, like a fern uncoiling at first light, it hesitantly emerged, seemingly recognising a sense of promise rather than threat for the first time in forever.

And when Derek scaled the building and climbed inside through Stiles's open bedroom window, and as he stood there dripping all over Stiles's carpet as Stiles looked at him from across the room like he understood, and like he cared, then blessing the rest of Derek's days with the word stay, Derek found he could be brave enough to not let himself worry about it, and he answered Stiles with the word okay.

.

[drdemonprince]

it has been really frustrating watching you have this discussion about therapy being something that is ultimately 'bouncing ideas of a friend' and being able to push back against therapists with no consequence. i understand that perhaps you, and many of the people agreeing with you, have not personally experienced significant medical abuse at the hands of a therapist or psychiatrist, but to act as though people who warn others about the dangers of psychiatry and psychology are misinformed or just getting in on a trend or something, is wildly privileged and ignorant i have to say. i am a black person who is legally recognised as a female. i have endured signficant childhood abuse, physical, sexual and verbal. i have been neglected by my parents. when i first encountered the psychiatric system, it was much as you described. when i disagreed with my therapist, i could push back. however, since i first expressed suicidal ideation due to the escalating violence and instability in my home when i was 16, my psychologist, having known that i was trans, outed me to my parents, called the police on me, and threatened to report the abuse that my parents were levying against me and my siblings - something that i had done when i was 11 and had resulted in severe consequences for my siblings and i, particularly me. i was hospitalised four times in a two year period, during which i was interrogated about my gender in front of my transphobic mother (which worsened conditions at home), and put on medications that left me suffering symptoms and withdrawals later on during the course of my life. when i was hospitalised the fifth time, a pyschiatrist suggested a diagnosis of bpd to me. when i expressed apprehension at the diagnosis, due to the stigma i was well aware of, the psychiatrist laughed in my face and said that my information was terribly outdated. since then, though i have attempted 5 times and forcibly held in psych wards and restrained and had my autonomy and privacy stripped from me for weeks at a time, that diagnosis of bpd has followed me like a spectre. a psychiatrist i saw while i was in the ICU recovering from a severe attempt, suggested that i was doing it for attention - despite my distress at being hospitalised and constant restraints and security guards being used to keep me there. a psychologist i saw asked if i was a pedophile when i mentioned that i had nightmares of my dad molesting me. another psychiatrist suggested that i was trying to ruin my father's life by talking candidly about the trauma that he has inflicted on me. when i attempt to exercise my autonomy by refusing to do as a psychologist wishes - such as saying that my neutral opinions of feminine clothes is not because i am brainwashed by my parents - or i express suicidal ideation, i am often threatened with institutionalisation or dismissed by psychologists as being 'a difficult case'. i have had social workers laugh at me and say that i'm just a bit anxious, as i am actively experiencing a flashback in front of them. when i stopped seeing a therapist once, she threatened to call the police on me - a autistic black person - because she believed that i didn't have the capacity to make that decision. when i have been in the hospital for unrelated medical issues, i have been met with suspicion and distrust over my account of my symptoms. and therapists and psychologists have fired me because when it came out that the crux of all of my problems is my combination of being disabled and unable to work and thus that the paltry sum that i receive from disability isn't enough to move out on, and that i can't support myself because i don't even have enough income to rent a sharehouse, they feel annoyed that i am wasting their time, as though i feel any better having dealt with this all my life.

this is very long, but ultimately my point is this. my experiences are not unique. to suggest that people critiquing therapy in all it forms are 'not empowered' to push back against their therapists, and that the discourse is just people hating or something, is so insensitive that i felt unwell reading yours and other peoples comments. somebody commented that 'sounds like anon was just looking for a progressive excuse not to engage with therapy' as though therapy is some universal good that has no reason to ever make anyone suspicious. anyone can have uneducated and uninformed positions. however my problem is that you do posit yourself as someone who is learned (whether you accept this characterisation or not!), someone who is empathetic, who is progressive, and who has experience in this field, and listens to those who have are oppressed in this world. your blasé defanging of therapy and its ills is a big letdown and very disappointing from someone who is often intellectually curious. i know you don't owe me or your readers anything, this is simply feedback, which i send to you and took the time to write because i think you deserve a frank response to that post. i simply feel that this is a topic where you have blind spots, and as someone with a PhD in psychology and who talks about a range of topics within it, i feel that this is not acceptable for me.

I mean, yes, yes! I think I have been very clear about my anti-psychiatry stance and have spoken at length about the abuses of the field, which I am in fact very aware of. Perhaps outside the context of that ongoing conversation, the post about therapy having some utility for some people seems to be overlooking things. Some people choose to access therapy and derive benefits from it, but that is only possible when a) it is their free choice to do so and b) they have the power to pushback against their therapist. Seeing an lcsw for social anxiety is reallllly different from being forcibly institutionalized and having to see a therapist in that context. I am not gonna issue a whole cloth declaration that all therapy is terrible for the same reason I never would for any drug, including psychiatric drugs that have been abused: because these things are tools people use for any number of reasons, and so we might as well approach it descriptively rather than prescriptively. But I do think it is important for people to hear stories like yours and to internalize how abusive psychiatry is, if they haven't already, so I am happy to share your ask for those who still need to internalize that message. This blog has been firmly anti psych since like 2012 and I do want that to be clear.

[theraprism]

An aspect of the Theraprism plot element that I think is really important is that, as readers, I fully believe that we are meant to be uncomfortable with it.

It's fitting for Bill to end up in an environment where he is trapped and unable to exert power over others, and the fact that he describes the Theraprism specifically as "overmedicated" is a full-circle moment IMO. As a child, his bodily autonomy was disrespected through the medical abuse he was subject to, and when he became an adult, he abused others through violation of their own bodily autonomy (see: the entire section of the lost Journal 3 pages concerning the possession battle). Bill isn't unpersoned by the narrative -- the book makes clear that he has feelings, no matter how much he denies them -- but the Theraprism unpersons him. In a literal sense, it *will* unperson him by transforming him into a being that lacks higher consciousness. The Theraprism brands itself as an institution that operates on the principle of restorative justice but is in fact fundamentally punitive.

From the angle that Bill needs to face the consequences of his actions, it's perfect. He might not recognize the suffering of others -- he might not even acknowledge his own suffering -- but he will be forced to feel his own suffering either way.

But from the angle that Gravity Falls is a show about healing from the past and moving toward a future with those who love you, Bill's situation is an utter nightmare for someone like him. You can't argue that he isn't a tragic villain at this point because it is so clear by now that he is trapped by the past, both in terms of the flashbacks he is stated to experience and in the way that the Theraprism is a punishment for his past actions. And the Theraprism, when it comes down to it, is not meant to accomodate someone like Bill.

The Theraprism's goal is not to rehabilitate Bill, but to keep him there alone forever. His recommended treatment is "infinite karmic rehabilitation". That's not atonement, it's a plain and simple sentence to life in prison.

I think that tension is very intentional.

[makeila04]

I wonder what he had to endure when he was captured by Stitch in the 80s and subjected to MK-Ultra... We only saw a fraction of it: him on the stretcher, sweating, bleeding, with a face of excruciating pain and suffering, struggling to free himself from the restraints on his hands and feet. Even his clothes were drenched in sweat... his long, messy hair and unkempt beard... Then we see how he was left while sitting in the chair, with Mason trying to treat him, and he was extremely aggressive, still under the effects of MK-Ultra and completely out of his mind.

Obviously, he recovered later, but... What must it have been like to endure almost a year alone, subjected to MK-Ultra by Stitch and the other Soviets? Can we get a glimpse of that? I don’t blame him if there were days when he thought the CIA had abandoned him, though I know he’d genuinely believe the opposite because he knows his value as an asset to the agency. But I don’t doubt that even he had his moments of doubt.

I mean... Besides... What did they do to him that even Russell Adler himself, a CIA agent and soldier for decades, someone who had even survived Vietnam... fell to all that mental programming? That’s what gives me chills the most... It’s not just physical torture; it’s the total loss of his mental autonomy. What was that year like in Stitch’s hands? While Cold War only shows us glimpses of his suffering, we can infer that he was subjected to a long, brutal, and systematic process to break his mind. Mental programming with MK-Ultra isn’t instant; it requires torture, sensory deprivation, extreme manipulation, and constant repetition. (And yes, I’ve read the declassified CIA documents—spoiler: it’s not very pleasant.)

1. Isolation and physical weakening He was likely kept in a dark, cold cell for months, deprived of sleep, food, and water, slowly weakening him. Constant interrogations, beatings, electric shocks—all aimed at wearing down his mental and emotional resistance. White noise, strobe lights, and hallucinogenic drugs to confuse his perception of time and reality.

2. Psychological torture and programming Repetitive messages in his head: Constant audio in Russian telling him the CIA abandoned him, that his loyalty is a lie, that his mind no longer belongs to him. Injections of drugs like LSD and sodium pentothal, historically used in MK-Ultra to induce extreme suggestibility. Forced hypnosis: They would’ve induced a state where he could no longer discern what was real and what was programming. Distorted sense of time: They likely made him doubt how long he’d been there—weeks, months, or even years.

3. Resistance and deterioration Despite everything, Adler is a survivor. His training, mental strength, and ego would’ve made him resist longer than most men could endure. But even he fell. Because MK-Ultra isn’t just about making you say what they want to hear—it’s about making you believe what they want. And the scariest part is that his mind eventually gave in.

Did Adler believe the CIA abandoned him? Most likely, at first, he didn’t believe a word they said. He knows his value as an asset and understands how the agency works. But after months of torture, isolation, and manipulation, even Adler, with all his resilience, must’ve had moments of doubt. At some point, his own mind became his enemy. Constant nightmares of his team leaving him behind. Induced visions of Bell betraying him, of himself shooting Woods and Mason. Manipulated flashbacks to make him believe his past wasn’t real.

These are just some of the things I imagine he could’ve endured. That’s why, when we see him on the stretcher, sweating, bleeding, trying to break free with an expression of absolute suffering, it’s because his mind is fragmented, broken, invaded. And when we finally see him with Mason, still under the effects of MK-Ultra, his extreme aggression is proof that part of his mind no longer belongs to him.

How did he recover? This is where we see what makes Adler, Adler. Even after being programmed as a weapon, after his identity was eroded and his mind invaded, he managed to find his way back to himself. Thanks to Mason and the CIA, who reversed the programming with aggressive deprogramming and counterconditioning, Adler regained control. But he was never the same. Because knowing that even he could be turned into a puppet left a deep scar. That’s why, when we see him in his Agent Zero skin (from Cold War), with long hair, a messy beard, and a harder gaze than ever, what we’re seeing isn’t just his appearance after captivity—it’s the reflection of a man who fought to reclaim his own mind and won... but at a cost.

All of this happens in the mid-80s, and Black Ops 6 is set in 1991, about half a decade later. When Adler was 49, a few years after the MK-Ultra ordeal in ’84 and ’85, meaning, by 1986, Adler was 49—just one year after all that disaster. That’s when the CIA tries to retire Adler. He refuses, but in 1989, the Panama disaster happens, where Jason Hudson dies and Frank Woods is left paralyzed.

Amid all this, the CIA tries to frame him, and Adler goes on the run. By 1991, Adler has been a fugitive for 10 months, almost a year... Obviously, in the campaign, we discover it wasn’t the CIA who framed him but Pantheon, led by Jane Harrow. Adler and Woods always knew Russell Adler was the scapegoat and that Adler never left Woods paralyzed or sold out him, Hudson, and Mason for money. He’s too smart to swallow that crap, and he says so himself. Still... when he’s on the run, and what we see in the Black Ops 6 campaign, set in 1991 while Adler is a fugitive and a criminal alongside Woods, Troy Marshall, and the rest of the team for helping Adler escape, he... seems relaxed. It’s like he doesn’t care anymore.

I think this is precisely because Adler, by that point, has already lost everything. He no longer cares about anything; he’s just surviving and taking refuge in material, expensive things: expensive clothes, expensive whiskey, expensive cigarettes, etc. It’s also to project his status and imposing demeanor even amid all the chaos, but it’s not just about an external facade, I think.

Rather, after everything he went through in the 80s—starting in 1981 in Cold War, killing Bell, Perseus, years later finding out in 1985 from Stitch that Perseus had died of cancer in 1983, realizing he’d been chasing a ghost for over a decade, getting divorced from his wife in the late 70s (since by 1981 he’s already divorced), and probably losing his children (since Hudson and Mason had children despite their CIA work, so something serious must’ve happened for Adler to divorce).

So, all of this, plus what came before, makes me think that after 1984 and 1985, when Adler was subjected to MK-Ultra while captured by Stitch, even though he later recovered thanks to Mason, Hudson, and Woods, he... was never the same. There’s a breaking point, a turning point, too big to ignore. Russell Adler is a man who adapts by nature. But if his life was already somewhat stable or in decline in the 80s, after the mid-80s onward, it’s a freefall without a parachute...

The man who had already lost so much in the 80s then loses everything. He’d already lost his wife, probably his children if he had any, was tortured and brainwashed, spent 15 years chasing Perseus since Vietnam, only to find out he was dead, lost his only friends, and to top it off, his job—the last thing that gave him meaning. He’s rescued from Stitch and the torture, only for the CIA to try to retire him the next year. They don’t succeed, but then they frame him for something he didn’t do. It’s... harsh, and at the same time, the definition of a man who has nothing left to lose.

He takes refuge in material things because there’s nothing else left. I don’t know if he has a void, but by 1991, at 54... Russell Adler, I think, is in a crisis.

Beneath the jokes in Zombies mode, we see it: his hair, his physique, his age... Even in the campaign, when he scoffs and admits that the CIA wanted to retire him at 49 to make way for younger generations because they’re more creative, among other things. Again, we know this was Pantheon and not the CIA itself, but Pantheon, being within the CIA, used the ammunition the organization already had against Adler and twisted it a bit (a lot).

The last thing we know, from the campaign and the ending of Black Ops 6, is that Adler, Woods, and Troy Marshall are reinstated. They’re thanked for taking down Jane Harrow, who was part of Pantheon and the CIA traitor who framed Russell Adler in the first place.

But then... at least I think we can say it was a happy ending. But they’re reinstated to, in the words of Daniel Livingstone, the CIA director, protect them because the enemy never left, and now they’ll have all available resources.

Adler returns, yes, but he’s no longer the same man he was in the 80s, because now he has nothing to lose. And I, having lived it myself, can assure you that the man who screams isn’t the one to fear—those are just emotions. The one to fear is the man who laughs and enjoys chaos and violence, because Russell Adler is that. He’s someone who’s already given everything in his life, continues because it’s all he knows, and has learned to enjoy chaos and violence. Now he laughs because he knows he has nothing to lose, and that not only makes you lethal and dangerous but also deadly. He no longer fears death, if he ever did.

By the way, if we already said Russell 

Adler’s relationship with women was complicated, considering his divorce and how he treated Helen Park in 1981 during Cold War and now in Black Ops 6 with Sevati Dumas, I want to briefly mention how he bitterly tells us about how he personally took Jane Harrow under his wing and trained her. The same person who later framed him... He doesn’t say it explicitly, but his tone makes it clear that Russell Adler is deeply hurt by Harrow’s betrayal.

The man took her as a protégé, and maybe even as something like a daughter (since everyone mentions Jane joined young, following her parents’ example as agents). I don’t know, but from his tone, it’s clear it hurt him deeply. He even blames himself for perhaps not being the best example for her. Russell, already fragmented since Vietnam, through the 80s after MK-Ultra and his capture by Stitch between 1984 and 1985, after that... Adler is outright broken. There’s no other way to say it: Adler isn’t just fragmented—he’s broken. Not in the sense of someone who collapses and gives up, but in the sense of someone who’s been stripped of everything, gone through hell, and come out without a single tie to this world. The man who has nothing left to lose.

Jane Harrow’s betrayal was the final nail in the coffin. Russell Adler doesn’t trust many people. But when he does, he means it. He trained her. Took her under his wing. Maybe he saw her as a protégé, perhaps even as the daughter he never had. And then she destroyed him. It’s a blow that doesn’t need to be verbalized. His tone says it all. The resentment. The pain. The guilt. Because Adler has never been a good man, and he knows it. And deep down, maybe he wonders if Jane betrayed him because she simply became what he taught her to be. That thought must’ve eaten at him.

Adler’s decline: From resilience to emptiness Everything in his story from the 80s onward is a freefall without brakes.

First, his divorce and the loss of his family (which, as you say, likely included children).

Then, his obsession with Perseus, only to discover in 1985 that he’d been chasing a ghost for over a decade. After that, his capture and MK-Ultra, where his own mind was taken from him.

When he’s finally “rescued,” the CIA tries to retire him at 49 because he’s no longer useful, he’s “old.”

Three years later, in Panama, Hudson dies, Woods is paralyzed, and he’s framed for everything.

Now he’s a fugitive, without allies, without a home, without a country. Each of these blows chipped away at something inside him.

And by 1991, there’s nothing left. No love, no hope, no future. He only survives because he doesn’t know how to do anything else.

Why does he seem so relaxed in Black Ops 6?

Because he’s crossed the line. When everything is taken from you, there comes a point where nothing matters anymore. The CIA betrayed him (or so he believes at the time). He lost his friends. His own mind was taken and reprogrammed in the past. His reputation, his legacy, his identity—all destroyed. There’s no more fear. No more anger. Only emptiness remains. That’s why he takes refuge in material things: Expensive whiskey, expensive clothes, expensive cigarettes. It’s a projection of power, yes, but it’s also his last anchor to reality. It’s the only thing he has left to remind him of who he was before everything collapsed.

The danger of Adler in this state The Adler of the 80s had a purpose. He was cold, ruthless, but he had a code. The Adler of 1991... has no limits. You don’t fear the man who screams. You fear the man who laughs in the midst of chaos. This Adler isn’t impulsive or chaotic because he’s lost his mind. On the contrary, he’s more lucid than ever, but he no longer feels attached to anything. And when a man like that laughs in the midst of violence, it’s not because he enjoys it like an out-of-control psychopath. It’s because he’s already accepted his own damnation. The "happy ending": Is it really? Yes, he’s reinstated in the CIA. But he’s not the same anymore. He has no wife. He has no children. His friends are dead or broken. The CIA, his only reason for living, sold him out when he was no longer useful. Yes, they put him back in the game. But he’s not doing it out of loyalty, honor, or a sense of duty anymore.

Now he does it because he doesn’t know how to live any other way. Russell Adler hasn’t returned.

What’s left of him is just the shadow of a man who once had something to lose.

Me pregunto qué fue lo que tuvo que vivir al ser capturado por Stich en los 80s y cuando lo sometieron al MK-ultra... Apenas vimos una fracción de eso: él en la camilla sudando, sangrando con una cara de dolor y sufrimiento atroz mientras no dejaba de moverse intentando zafarse de las ataduras de sus manos y pies. Incluso su ropa estaba demasiado sudada...su cabello largo y desprolijo y la barba larga y descuidada también... Luego vemos cómo quedó mientras estaba en la silla y Mason intentaba curarlo y él estaba muy agresivo, el mk-ultra aún activo en él y fuera de sí.

Obviamente luego se recuperó pero... ¿Cómo tuvo que ser estar casi 1 año solo sometido al mk-ultra por Stitch y los demás soviéticos? ¿Podemos dar un vistazo a eso? No lo culpo si habrá tenido días donde pensaba que la cia lo había abandonado aunque sé que genuinamente creería en lo contrario porque él mismo sabe lo que vale como activo para la agencia. Pero no dudo que él mismo haya dudado.

Quiero decir...Además…

¿Qué fue lo que le hicieron para que él incluso, el mismísimo Russell Adler, agente de la CIA y soldado, desde hacía décadas, alguien que incluso había sobrevivido a Vietnam...haya caído ante toda esa programación mental? Eso es lo que más me pone la piel de gallina…

No se trata solo de tortura física, sino de la pérdida total de su autonomía mental.

¿Cómo fue ese año en manos de Stitch?

Si bien Cold War solo nos muestra destellos de su sufrimiento, podemos inferir que fue sometido a un proceso largo, brutal y sistemático para quebrar su mente. La programación mental con MK-Ultra no es instantánea; requiere tortura, privación sensorial, manipulación extrema y repetición constante. (Y si, he leído los documentos oficiales desclasificados de la CIA, spoiler: no es muy agradable)

1. Aislamiento y debilitamiento físico

Es probable que lo mantuvieran en una celda oscura y fría durante meses, con privación de sueño, comida y agua, debilitándolo poco a poco.

Interrogatorios constantes, golpes, descargas eléctricas—todo con el fin de desgastar su resistencia mental y emocional.

Ruido blanco, luces estroboscópicas y drogas alucinógenas para confundir su percepción del tiempo y la realidad.

2. Tortura psicológica y programación

Mensajes repetitivos en su cabeza: Con audios constantes en ruso diciéndole que la CIA lo abandonó, que su lealtad es una mentira, que su mente ya no le pertenece.

Inyecciones de drogas como LSD y pentotal sódico, utilizadas históricamente en MK-Ultra para inducir estados de sugestionabilidad extrema.

Hipnosis forzada: Le habrían inducido un estado donde ya no podía discernir qué era real y qué era programación.

Imagen distorsionada del tiempo: Posiblemente lo hicieron dudar de cuánto llevaba ahí, si fueron semanas, meses o incluso años.

3. Resistencia y deterioro

A pesar de todo, Adler es un sobreviviente. Su entrenamiento, su fortaleza mental y su ego lo habrían hecho resistir más de lo que cualquier otro hombre podría soportar. Pero incluso él cayó.

Porque el MK-Ultra no solo consiste en hacerte decir lo que quieren oír, sino en hacerte creer lo que ellos quieren.

Y lo más aterrador es que su mente terminó cediendo.

¿Adler creyó que la CIA lo abandonó?

Lo más probable es que, al principio, no creyera nada de lo que le decían. Él sabe su valor como activo y también entiende cómo funciona la agencia.

Pero después de meses de tortura, aislamiento y manipulación, incluso Adler, con toda su resistencia, debió haber tenido momentos de duda.

En algún punto, su propia mente se convirtió en su enemigo.

Pesadillas constantes con su equipo dejándolo atrás.

Visiones inducidas donde Bell lo traicionaba, donde él mismo disparaba contra Woods y Mason.

Flashbacks manipulados para hacerle creer que su pasado no era real.

Estas son solo algunas cosas de las que se me ocurre que podría haber vivido.

Por eso, cuando lo vemos en la camilla, sudando, sangrando, intentando liberarse con una expresión de sufrimiento absoluto, es porque su mente está fragmentada, rota, invadida.

Y cuando finalmente lo vemos con Mason, aún con el MK-Ultra activo, su agresividad extrema es una prueba de que una parte de su mente ya no le pertenece.

¿Cómo logró recuperarse?

Aquí es donde vemos lo que hace que Adler sea Adler.

Incluso después de haber sido programado como un arma, después de que su identidad fuera erosionada y su mente invadida, logró encontrar el camino de vuelta a sí mismo.

Gracias a Mason y la CIA, que revirtieron la programación con desprogramación agresiva y contra-condicionamiento, Adler recuperó el control.

Pero nunca volvió a ser el mismo.

Porque saber que incluso él pudo ser convertido en una marioneta dejó una cicatriz profunda.

Por eso, cuando lo vemos en su skin de Agente Cero (de Cold War), con el cabello largo, la barba desaliñada y la mirada más dura que nunca. Lo que vemos no es solo su aspecto después del cautiverio, es el reflejo de un hombre que luchó para recuperar su propia mente y ganó... pero a un precio.

Todo eso pasa a mediados de los 80s y Black Ops 6 se ambienta en 1991, más o menos media década después. Cuando Adler tenía 49, pocos años después de lo del 84 y 85 del mK-ultra, es decir, haciendo cálculos Adler tenía 49 años en 1986, vendría a ser 1 año después de todo ese desastre. Es cuando la cia quiere jubilarlo a Adler. Él se niega pero en 1989 ocurre el desastre de Panamá donde muere Jason Hudson y Frank Woods queda paralítico. En medio de eso la CIA intenta incriminarlo y Adler se da a la fuga. 

Para 1991 Adler ya lleva 10 meses prófugo, casi 1 año... obviamente en la campaña descubrimos que no fue la CIA realmente quién lo incriminó sino Pantheon, a la cabeza de Jane Harrow. Adler y Woods siempre supieron que Russell Adler era el chivo expiatorio y que Adler jamás dejó a Woods paralítico ni los vendió a él, Hudson y Mason por dinero. Es demasiado inteligente para tragarse esa mierda y él mismo lo dice. Aun así... cuando está prófugo y lo que vemos de la campaña de black ops 6, ambientada en 1991 mientras Adler es prófugo y un criminal junto con Woods, Troy Marshall y el resto del equipo por ayudar a escapar a Adler, él...está relajado. Es como si no le importara ya. 

Creo que esto se debe justamente a que Adler, para ese punto, ya lo ha perdido todo, ya no le importa nada, solamente sobrevive y se refugia en las cosas materiales y caras: ropa cara, whisky caro, cigarrillos caros, etc. También para proyectar aún su estatus de seguridad y tipo imponente aún en medio de todo el caos y bla bla bla, ok, pero no es solo por una fachada externa, creo.

Más bien, con todo lo que vivió en los 80s desde 1981 en cold war, lo de matar a Bell, Perseus, años más tarde enterarse en 1985 por Stich que Perseus había muerto de cáncer en 1983 y que persigue básicamente un fantasma y no le sirvió de nada, se divorció de su mujer a finales de los 70s probablemente (porque para 1981 ya está divorciado), probablemente perdió hijos. (Ya que Hudson y Mason si tenían hijos a pesar de su trabajo en la cia, así que algo grave les pasó para que Adler se divorcie). Entonces, todo esto, más lo anterior, creo que hacen que luego de 1984 y 1985, cuando Adler es sometido al MK-Ultra al estar capturado por Stich, hace que aunque luego se recupere gracias a Mason, Hudson y Woods ya...no sea el mismo...hay un punto de quiebre, de inflexión, demasiado grande para ignorarlo.

Russell Adler es un hombre que se adapta por naturaleza. Pero si su vida ya venía más o menos estable o en caída en los 80s, luego de la mitad de esa década en adelante es una caída libre y sin paracaídas... él hombre que ya había perdido mucho en los 80s luego lo pierde todo, ya había perdido a su esposa, probablemente a sus hijos si los tenía, lo sometieron y torturaron, se pasó 15 años buscando a Perseus, desde Vietnam, todo para enterarse que murió, pierde a sus únicos amigos, y para colmo, su trabajo, lo último que le da sentido, lo rescatan de Stich y la tortura, todo para que al año siguiente lo quieran jubilar. No lo consiguen pero luego lo incriminan de algo que él no cometió.

Es...duro y a la vez la definición de el hombre que ya no tiene nada que perder. Se refugia en lo material porque no le queda nada más. No sé si tenga un vacío pero para 1991 a sus 54 años...Russell Adler, creo, que se encuentra en una crisis. Debajo de las bromas en el modo zombies lo vemos: su cabello, su físico, su edad... incluso en la campaña cuando desdeña y admite que la CIA quería jubilarlo desde que tenía 49 para dar paso a nuevas generaciones porque son más creativas, entre otras cosas. Repito, obviamente sabemos que esto fue Pantheon y no la CIA en sí, pero Pantheon al estar dentro de la CIA, utilizaron la munición que ya tenía la propia organización contra Adler y la alteraron un poco (mucho). Lo último que sabemos, por la campaña y el final de Black Ops 6, es que restituyen a Adler, Woods y Troy Marshall. Agradecidos por haber acabado con Jane Harrow quien sí era parte de Pantheon y la traidora de la CIA que incriminó a Russell Adler en primer lugar. Pero entonces... al menos creo que podemos decir que fue un final feliz. Pero los restituyen para, en palabras de Daniel Livingstone, el director de la cia, protegerlos porque el enemigo nunca se fue, y ahora tendrán todos los recursos disponibles. Adler regresa, sí, pero ya no es el mismo hombre que en los 80s, porque ahora no tiene nada que perder y yo misma, porque lo he vivido, te puedo asegurar que no da miedo el tipo que grita, esas son solo emociones, realmente. Hay que tenerle miedo al tipo que se ríe y disfruta del caos y la violencia porque Russell Adler es eso, es alguien que ya lo dio todo toda su vida, sigue asi porque es lo único que conoce y ya aprendió a disfrutar del caos y la violencia, ahora de ríe, porque sabe que no tiene nada que perder y eso no sólo te hace letal y peligros sino también mortífero, ya no tiene miedo a la muerte, si es que alguna vez lo tuvo. Por cierto, si ya decíamos que la relación de Russell Adler con las mujeres era complicada teniendo en cuenta su divorcio y el trato que tenía con Helen Park en 1981 durante cold war y ahora en black ops 6 con Sevati Dumas quiero hacer una breve mención que él nos dice con un tono amargo sobre cómo acogió y entrenó personalmente y la mantuvo bajo su ala a Jane Harrow. Exactamente la misma persona que la incriminó después... no lo dice explícitamente pero en su tono se nota que a Russell Adler le pesa que Harrow lo haya traicionado. El hombre la tomó como una aprendiz, y quizás, hasta como algo similar a una hija (ya que todos mencionan que Jane entró joven, siguiendo el ejemplo de sus padres como agentes), no lo sé, pero por su tono, se nota que le dolió mucho eso de su parte. Incluso él mismo se culpa de quizás no haber sido lo mejor, o el mejor ejemplo para ella. Russell, sí ya venía fragmentado desde Vietnam, hasta los 80s luego del MK-Ultra y su secuestro por parte de Stich entre 1984 y 1985, luego de esto...Adler directamente está roto…

No hay otra forma de decirlo: Adler no solo está fragmentado, está roto. No en el sentido de alguien que se derrumba y se rinde, sino en el de alguien que ha sido despojado de todo, ha pasado por el infierno y ha salido sin un solo lazo que lo ate a este mundo.

El hombre que ya no tiene nada que perder.La traición de Jane Harrow fue el último clavo en el ataúd.

Russell Adler no confía en muchas personas. Pero cuando lo hace, lo hace de verdad.

Él la entrenó. La tomó bajo su ala.Tal vez la vio como una aprendiz, quizás hasta como la hija que nunca tuvo.

Y luego ella lo destruyó.

Es un golpe que no necesita ser verbalizado. Su tono de voz lo dice todo.

El resentimiento.

El dolor.

La culpa.

Porque Adler nunca ha sido un buen hombre, y lo sabe.

Y en el fondo, quizás se pregunta si Jane lo traicionó porque simplemente se convirtió en lo que él mismo le enseñó a ser.

Ese pensamiento debe haberlo carcomido.

El declive de Adler: de la resistencia al vacío

Todo en su historia a partir de los 80s es una caída en picada sin frenos.

Primero fue su divorcio y la pérdida de su familia (que, como dices, seguramente incluyó hijos).

Luego, su obsesión con Perseus, solo para descubrir en 1985 que llevaba más de una década persiguiendo un fantasma.

Después, su secuestro y el MK-Ultra, donde su propia mente le fue arrebatada.

Cuando al fin es "rescatado", la CIA intenta jubilarlo a los 49, porque ya no es útil, ya es "viejo".

Tres años después, en Panamá, Hudson muere, Woods queda paralítico y lo incriminan por todo.

Ahora es un fugitivo, sin aliados, sin casa, sin patria.

Cada uno de estos golpes fue apagando algo dentro de él.

Y para 1991, ya no queda nada.

No queda amor, no queda esperanza, no queda futuro. Sólo sobrevive porque no sabe hacer otra cosa.

¿Por qué parece tan relajado en Black Ops 6?

Porque ya cruzó la línea.

Cuando te arrebatan todo, llega un punto en que ya nada importa.

La CIA lo traicionó (o eso cree en ese momento).

Perdió a sus amigos.

Su propia mente fue tomada y reprogramada en el pasado.

Su reputación, su legado, su identidad: todo destruido.

Ya no hay miedo. Ya no hay rabia. Solo queda el vacío.

Por eso se refugia en lo material:

El whisky caro, la ropa cara, los cigarrillos caros.

Es una proyección de poder, sí, pero también es su último ancla con la realidad.

Es lo único que le queda para recordar quién era antes de que todo colapsara.

El peligro de Adler en este estado

El Adler de los 80s tenía un propósito. Era frío, despiadado, pero tenía un código.

El Adler de 1991... ya no tiene límites.

No hay que temerle al hombre que grita. Hay que temerle al que se ríe en medio del caos.

Este Adler no es impulsivo ni caótico porque haya perdido la razón.Al contrario, está más lúcido que nunca, pero ya no siente apego a nada.

Y cuando un hombre así se ríe en medio de la violencia, no es porque la disfrute como un psicópata sin control.

Es porque ya ha aceptado su propia condena.

El "final feliz": ¿realmente lo es?

Sí, lo reinstalan en la CIA.

Pero ya no es el mismo.

No tiene esposa.

No tiene hijos.

Sus amigos han muerto o están destrozados.

La CIA, su única razón de vivir, lo vendió cuando dejó de ser útil.

Sí, lo devuelven al juego. Pero ya no lo hace por lealtad, ni por honor, ni por sentido del deber.

Ahora lo hace porque no sabe vivir de otra forma.

Russell Adler no ha vuelto.

Lo que queda de él es solo la sombra de un hombre que alguna vez tuvo algo que perder.

[vulpisnocturna]

Hey there! Glad to see you're back! ♥ Since you say you want headcanon requests... How would all our Uchiha's (mostly Itachi because I'm such a simp for him, but also Shisui, Sasuke, Madara, Obito and Indra and maybe Indra respond if their lover was confirmed to have been captured by enemy forces on a mission or during a war? And how would they respond if/when their lover was recovered alive but showing severe physical and mental damage from the torture they'd endured?

Hey my lovely, happy to be back 🤍

Uchiha reactions to a captured/PTSD suffering S/O

Itachi:

- would absolutely infiltrate enemy lines and retrieve their S/O, without sparing torture on the enemies. This man would torture them tenfold for every injury his S/O was subjected to. He would break their minds with Tsukuyomi and leave no survivors

- would be gentle and patient with his S/O, and it would break his heart to see them so broken after what happened to them. As a pacifist and someone who has a deep hatred for conflict and war, he would be furious and mournful that his SO has to live with the scars of the cruelty of the world

- He would definitely be the type to soothe his SO after nightmares, go for a walk in the moonlight with them to release pent-up stress, and generally be more protective of them. He would inform himself on how to best deal with panic attacks and try to therapise his S/O

- Itachi’s advice and “words of wisdom” may be of comfort but they may also fall flat because he tends to speak from a place of rationality more than emotion, and as a walking embodiment of PTSD, he’s one to talk. But hey, he is quite wise, and he means well.

Obito:

- Would literally go absolutely batshit crazy if his S/O was kidnapped and held hostage by the enemy. Cue the Rin flashbacks. Would destroy the world, burn it to ashes, go to Hell and back and make it rain blood. …Literally. He would be on his most unhinged, insane behaviour

- his SO should expect to never leave his side after that. He will be overprotective, like they are an infant who is at risk of dying with every breath

- would have nightmares about what happened and it would enrage him and break his heart to see his S/O broken by what they endured.

- wouldn’t know what to say or do to console them, except promise to always protect them and never let it happen again

Madara:

- you don’t fuck with Madara’s S/O. If you do, there is an incoming cataclysm your way. He would destroy their lineage for daring to hurting his loved ones. Would definitely worsen the war in an attempt to get revenge

- would be helpless in the face of dealing with PTSD. Madara is a strong person, who grew up not really learning how to express his feelings, and therefore, he doesn’t know how to deal with them

- would be the type to stand a few feet from them, stiff and awkward and boiling with fury and sorrow inside at the sight of their S/O hurting, but somehow, he can’t come up with anything worthwhile to say. Will probably say something like “it’s over now. It won’t happen again” and that’s it

Indra:

- oh boy, you messed up. His S/O is like his most prized possession to him, and no one can take that from him and break one of his things. Takes it more as a personal insult rather than anything else. Will kill everyone who disrespected him like that

- will probably be saddened but also frustrated by his S/O’s inability to get over what happened

- “it’s over now. No point crying about it”. He doesn’t mean to be cruel, but it’s just a matter of stating facts to him.

- what, his S/O doesn’t trust him to keep them safe or something? Do they doubt his strength?

Shisui:

- would definitely activate the other side of Shisui. Would efficiently and ruthlessly kill everyone who sought to hurt the person he loves. He would be there in a second

- the safety and comfort of his S/O after such a horrible ordeal would be his priority. A bit like Itachi, he would always be there to offer comfort, a shoulder to cry on or a distraction in difficult times to follow

- However, unlike Itachi’s therapy sessions, he is more the type to try to lighten the mood and lift his S/O’s spirits. He would make it his mission to make them laugh and keep them happy, sometimes to the point of stifling them and making them feel a little alienated

- if he’s asked to have a serious conversation about what happened, however, he is very serious about it, and very protective and comforting

Sasuke:

- cue a revenge plan. He is not joking around. This man has lost every single person he loved, and if his S/O is abducted and tortured, he is there in the span of 0.1 second raining hellfire on the people who dared hurt a person he loves

- This man is like a big ball of PTSD, and not the best at comforting and offering advice on how to heal. It’s taken him years, a self-discovery journey, an obsessive friend beating him up and exploding his arm to heal. Expect him to be there like a silent presence hovering around his S/O like a cat sensing something is wrong with their favourite person but not knowing what to do about it

- would wake them up from nightmares and sit with them in silence to calmly listen to them vent and cry. Sasuke is a very emotional person underneath, but he thinks he needs to be strong for his loved one, to be a safe haven but mostly an anchor to rely on

- would be terrified himself of losing his S/O again, and therefore be quite overprotective (he stalks his S/O secretly wherever they go)

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Hiii, it's Delta anon!! I'm back!! :D

I come bearing two new headcanons!! They tie into each other ofc lol. But first, I raise you a question - do you think Delta gets phanom pain?

(Before I continue, let me say this. I do not experience phantom pain and have never even gotten close to losing a limb. I am simply basing this stuff off of what I know mostly from YouTube videos when my brain decided to hyperfixate on it.)

Phantom pain is typically defined by having pain in a missing or amputated limb. Obviously Delta still has his spinal cord - but at one point, they literally got cut in half. So on a technicality, they did lose that limb. They regained it after the reset, but the damage was done - that pain and fear never left.

Obviously, this can impact them in dozens of ways in any area of their lives. During fights, I imagine that any time Delta fought somebody - especially Killer, in the early days - he would instinctively go to protect his spinal cord. Not his neck or head, anything that could stop quickly kill him. His spine.

Naturally, they would have to unlearn this - or at least learn to use one hand to protect his neck, and the other to protect his spine. The first couple times this happened, Beta probably questioned it. Delta probably gave him a bullshit answer to avoid talking about the trauma. Eventually, they grew used to it enough that they didn't bother questioning it. Delta was very glad for that.

They were able to hide the flashbacks and nightmares for quite a while. But once Color came around, it got harder and harder to do that. Seeing the swirling colors around Color's own wound was a constant, everyday reminder of not only the pain his friend had suffered, but of the pain he himself suffered - the people he failed to save.

And maybe during one of their more painful nightmares, he wakes up in extreme pain, and momentarily believes the nightmare was real. That he was cut in half again, bleeding out, just waiting to die. Which will obviously lead to total panic and derealization.

I can see it getting bad enough that even after Epic and Color come in to calm them down, that Delta may need to be hospitalized. Even if it isn't real, it still feels real - and who's to say what reality is at this moment? It could all be a lie, just another nightmare. Was everything that they remember and are living through now a lie? Just a vision of what could have been? What if they really were dying all over again?

Yeah, with the phantom pain and derealization spell (not even to mention the fact that they truly think their nightmare is reality), they're going to a hospital.

I'd imagine Epic and Color are very confused the first time they witnessed this. And naturally, this concerns them as well - it was so rare for them to see Delta genuinely panic and freak the fuck out, especially if it was due to past trauma. They almost always hid it a bit too well. But now, these two get a front row seat to watching them become distrusting and paranoid, completely confused on what was reality and what wasn't.

I also think it would be a major insecurity for them. Any other scar on their body is fine to be shown off, as they're often seen as proof of what they've survived. All but the scar on their spine, which serves as a lifelong reminder of the people they failed to save and the shame and vulnerability it brings with it. They would probably hide it at all extents.

They might even wake up some days in extreme pain, confused, questioning if someone hurt them in their sleep or if something happened. Unsure if the people around them can be trusted if they wake up in pain.

I also feel like Zorox would be able to help with this. I honestly don't know much about therapy dogs (or Zorox, aside from what Os says), but I think the pup could be trained to help with the phantom pain. Bringing ice packs, medicine, maybe even a walking device if Delta can't do it on his own.

Delta would still probably try to push through the pain, afraid of what will happen if someone sees them in this "weak" state (bc that's probably what he thinks will happen, that someone will take advantage of his weakness and strike, even if he's around trusted and beloved friends). So they try to go without medicines or aids, not only to protect themselves but to not worry their friends.

Obviously, Zorox doesn't let him get away with that at all. To my knowledge, service animals are trained to stop their owner before any kind of medical episode/issue happens and make them take time to take care of themselves. So if Zorox sees or feels that Delta's pushing through fixable pain solely because of pride or fear, he will make them sit back down and bring them the necessary items to help them feel better. And if it gets really bad, he night run to go alert Color or Epic that they need help.

But maybe the phantom pain also arises during battle or when they're trying to hunt down someone who committed a crime. Which brings me to my next headcanon!

We all know Beta is a very smart kid, and he's especially intuitive/conscious of exactly where they are at all times (unless they're dissocating). His instincts are like no other - even if he can't see the threat, he knows exactly when they're in danger and which direction it's coming from.

So what if their instincts come in the form of phantom pain?

Obviously when Beta tells Delta/Sans something, they listen. But once Beta starts to panic, they feel their core tighten, the scar on their spine start burning - and the more they ignore it, the worse it gets.

The minute they feel that something's wrong is the minute the phantom pain starts to act up (if it hasn't already). This can be at any point - they could be in a fight multiple AU's away, but if something's going wrong with Color or Epic at home, they feel it first before they know what's happening.

I can honestly see it scaring the shit out of Color and Epic the first time it happened. Because they were struggling with something silently, and all the sudden they get a text from Delta, who is NOWHERE NEAR THEM, asking if they're okay and what's going on.

They were very confused, but it distracted them enough to text back. And maybe they tried to lie, because they just weren't ready to talk about it yet.

Unfortunately for them, Beta/Delta called that shit out immediately. They first say that it's okay if they don't want to talk about it, but remind them that they'll be here when they're ready to talk.

And that still scares the shit out of the other two - how did they know about that?! They didn't even tell him!

Meanwhile, Beta's telling Sans/Delta EXACTLY what to say and do because he can feel it. He knows somehow that Color and/or Epic are struggling, to the point where even Sans starts to question it. Maybe it's a trauma thing, that Beta just so happens to know everyone's emotions at all times, even when they're away. Maybe they're just psychic or something.

(Beta claims the psychic one. Literally everyone - including him - knows it's the trauma one. But they collectively decide to run with the psychic option because it's funnier and Beta insists on it.)

All this to say, the phantom pain can be triggered when Beta feels that something dangerously wrong is happening or about to happen. It's Sans'/Delta's sign to listen and do what Beta says. Eventually, after the danger is alleviated, the pain starts to go away too.

Anyways, that's all I got for now. Thoughts?

Oh, I had an unfinished draft about Delta being cut in half for like a week now. Guess I’ll just copy and paste that here since I have the chance;

“Even though the body was magically reconstructed, Delta might have moments where he forgets that he has legs again, leading to sudden “missteps” or unsteadiness.

Since his magic likely had to rebuild connections between the upper and lower halves, there could be misalignments in how signals travel, leading to occasional spasms, twitching, or moments where his legs don’t respond correctly.

Since his waist and hips were completely destroyed and reconstructed, Delta’s center of balance might never feel entirely right again.

He might struggle with coordination, needing to adjust to the sensation of standing and walking as if his body is slightly out of sync with itself.

Sitting or lying down for too long might make his lower half feel “disconnected”, requiring movement or external grounding techniques (like deep pressure) to reorient himself.

Certain physical actions—like jumping, dodging, or twisting quickly—might cause discomfort or feel unnatural.

Even if healed, the place where his body was torn in half might be a structural weak point, making him more vulnerable to future injuries in the same area.

The magical regeneration could’ve left behind faint, glowing fractures along his midsection—possibly visible under certain lighting or when he uses magic.

The area could be hypersensitive to touch, impact, or pressure, meaning attacks aimed at his waist might hurt disproportionately more than expected.

Regenerating half of a body isn’t just a major physical trauma—it’s a massive magical cost. Even after healing, Delta’s energy reserves might be permanently lower, causing more frequent fatigue and burnout, slower natural healing over time and greater reliance on external energy sources like food, sleep, or outside magic to keep his body stable.

Experiencing such a violent death-like injury would likely leave deep psychological scars, even if his body recovered.

Hyperawareness of his waist and lower body – Delta might instinctively guard that area, flinch when people reach for him, or feel a constant underlying discomfort.

Flashbacks & body dysmorphia – At times, he might still feel “split in half,” even though he’s healed, leading to disorienting episodes where he feels like he’s reliving the injury.

Fear of being physically broken again. He might develop defensive habits, like keeping his back to a wall or avoiding situations where his midsection is exposed.

To counteract these effects, Delta might strengthen his core through magical reinforcement or external support (wearing a belt, brace, or armor piece over his waist).

He could develop a more cautious fighting style, relying on ranged combat or teleportation instead of up-close melee. (This one I highly doubt. Similar to Killer, he’s very up close and involved with his fists and legs. I doubt that would change, regardless of the risks.)

Use deep pressure therapy (possibly with Zorox, his service dog) to help him reconnect with his body. Wear heavier or reinforced clothing to feel more secure—like weighted garments, layered fabrics, or protective gear over his waist.”

And on the topic of Beta being able to tell when something’s wrong or danger is nearby due to their phantom like pain starting up, similar intuition to Color seemingly just being able to tell when danger—Nightmare and his huge gang—is coming in the Sans Hazard comics, do we think Beta started feeling that way in regards to Killer?

It could just only be when Killer actually chose to leave Nightmare and followed Color to the Omega Timeline, or more likely, started the very first time he realized Color was going to do something he probably deems crazy—crazy to seemingly do for someone like Killer—back in the beginning.

That he apparently sees something in Killer that Delta doesn’t, and has to decided he’s not going to let that go—even it could kill him.

Does it start immediately, and keeps happening any time Beta senses something has went wrong somewhere—and it’s harder to make sense of what or with who, with Color no longer back at home with Delta and Epic and Beta.

Wonder if it happens so often that both Delta and Beta start to become desensitized a bit to this specific pain, out of necessity, and many years later—when sitting in the living room of their home with their family, Cross and Killer right across from them—it’s a surprise for the both of them to realize that the pain is actually gone. Not even a dull ache.

[mementomoriwithacherryontop]

Esther's Torture Table: some thoughts

When Edwin is strapped to Esther's torture device, clearly having been at it's mercy for hours, at one point he cries:

This always struck me as odd. Esther is no where near him, in that moment. She doesn't need even need to touch him to turn her horrific device on; she uses her magic for that. Why does Edwin say this?

On my latest watch through, I realized why.

When I first saw this scene, I assumed the flashbacks meant Edwin was remembering the last time he was tied to a table. That was nearly 100 years ago, when he was sacrificed to Sa'al.

But I think he's experiencing more than just traumatic flashbacks*. I think he's actually reliving that moment. Maybe he's even reliving some of the torture he experienced in Hell. When he screams, and begs, and cries for his abuser to, "Please! No! Stay away! Please!" He's not talking to Esther. Not exactly.

He's talking to the bullies who stole him out of his bed and began his waking nightmare. He's talking to Sa'al, begging for mercy as his body disintegrates and reforms in Hell. He's talking to whatever demons he was sold to later, begging them to please, stop hurting him. He's talking to the Spider-Demon.

This device isn't just ripping apart his ghostly body. It's also ripping into his mind. It's breaking him open in every way it can. And he's utterly helpless to stop it.

--------

*I had a reference to PTSD here that was not the best word choice (although, I am sure Edwin is also suffering from significant PTSD, and I would have loved to have seen that flushed out in a second season). I replaced the phrase with "traumatic flashbacks", as I am not qualified to talk in depth about PTSD and all the nuances surrounding that clinical diagnosis.

[twopoppies]

https://www.tumblr.com/twopoppies/779120652808536064/hi-gina-im-already-sick-of-myself-typing-this?source=share

War flashbacks…

I read Daisie’s timeline, and I realized that the way Shia quit the movie and Harry came in to replace him happened almost one right after the other. I’d say it was a rushed negotiation, and no one really thought through the consequences, plus I doubt anyone saw it coming.

I think Harry was trying to be as professional as possible with her, but there were moments where he definitely seemed upset: like during one of the Boston shows (before Harryween), then the whole yachtgate situation, and when he found out the nightmare was going to last another year and was seen at Sony office. You could also tell he didn't want to do pda with her until they probably told him to put in more effort.

As for the tattoo, we’ll never know what made him get it, but I think she wanted an engagement—there were even rumors, I believe—but I guess at that point he said 'I’ll just get your name tattooed instead.' I wouldn’t be surprised.

The only positive thing is that Harry—because I truly believe it was more him than his team—was able to negotiate keeping her separate from the album and didn’t let her mention him outside of the movie promo. I feel like that was a last-minute negotiation too, because it really seemed like they were going to link the album to her, but thank God that didn’t happen.

Nothing will make me believe that relationship was real, even without considering larry—things just didn’t add up, and Harry showed his frustration in many ways.

And for those who use the excuse that she interacted with his family and friends, believe me, if Harry were my friend, I’d try to protect him and help however I could (because that’s what friends do). And if that means going to her birthday just to keep up appearances and prevent my friend from another pap walk with her, I’d do it.

I absolutely agree with you about friends and family helping to keep him from suffering through more interaction with her.

I think the leak of the video of her begging Shia to stay, while also shading Florence, probably enraged Harry. I would bet she was covering all her bases and doing all of that while also courting Harry to be in the film (and we already know she lied about Shia being fired, and lied about his behavior on set, when he actually quit because the script for the film was terrible and there wasn't enough rehearsal time).

I think the tattoo exchange for an engagement was a fan theory originally (because I know I had that theory, and I saw others saying it, too). We really have no idea, but it seems like a logical leap to make.

Frankly, I think she was thrilled for it to last a second year and probably didn't fight it for one second. It was originally supposed to be released at the end of 2021. Then, in early 2022. It kept get pushed later and later (I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't please her case with WB that she could drum up more excitement for it the longer she played the PR relationship game as Harry was becoming more and more popular as his tour continued and as Harry's House was released).

The shoot went a full month longer than expected (partially due to Covid, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was due to the mess that everything was because of her). Then she literally checked out completely in terms of post-production and was so busy being a rock star girlfriend that the movie needed to be re-edited and shown to test audiences at least three times (with all reports being leaked pointing toward a disaster). Then, somehow Warner Bros decided to cancel every single movie it was making except DWD (and some movie starring the Rock that I can't even remember the name of now) and pushed its premiere to the fall when all the big Oscar contenders are released (as if. LMAO!) and somehow got it to the Venice Film Festival.

I very much think Harry's House was originally meant to be linked to her (the same way Fine Line was linked to Camille). The fact that it seems as though the Zane Lowe interview was shot and edited by January 2022 and then re-shot at Coachella in April of that year tells me everything I need to know about that. He swerved hard and cut her out of the narrative completely (THANK GOD).

[comicaurora]

YOU WATCHED CENTAURWORLD?!

YOU USED IT AS AN EXAMPLE IN THE TROPE TALK!!!!

It is my favorite and I require to know your thoughts on it.

It's. Hm

So I think it absolutely accomplished what it set out to do, which means it is a successful work of art. But I think what it was aiming for didn't work for me?

In its efforts to play with centaurworld's ridiculousness versus the gritty nightmare of the "real world", it tonally undercuts almost all of its profound moments and then tries to get profound character moments out of squeeky-toy inflatable cartoon characters. Of the main cast, Horse and Wammawink are basically the only ones who get sufficient development to feel like real characters capable of carrying impactful moments, and the rest of the crew are basically walking punchlines - even speedrunning their respective Tragic Backstories doesn't do much to strengthen them, because in the present of the show they're fundamentally joke characters incapable of emotional subtlety. It kinda feels like if a Looney Tunes episode randomly dropped a flashback to baby Daffy Duck being moses'd into the bullrushes as if that mattered to how he functioned now. Plus, once we start jumping back to the Real World again, it turns out all those characters are also wacky in their own way - lots of very quippy dialogue and self-referential humor. Instead of Horse feeling broadly representative of her world's tone, she feels like the most serious character in the entire show - at least until season 2 where her dialogue starts being 50% fart jokes by volume.

Overall I think I loved what they set up in season 1, but not how they paid it off in season 2. There's the themes they establish in season 1 of how centaurworld has a cartoonifying effect on everyone who comes there, and the way this plays to Horse early on is full on cartoon body horror - a realistic horse slowly and inexorably transforming into a parody of itself. I thought that was a fascinating way to frame it, and it was nightmarish to contemplate! It comes to a really strong head in the Whaletaur Shaman episode when her friends seem to finally realize how much she's been struggling and suffering and how, despite it looking like a big joke to everyone, it's profoundly unfunny to her. But while she gets a nice emotional resolution at the end of that episode, the underlying horror is never addressed again. She still seems unhappy with her new cartoon body, but the transformations are from this point forward framed as uncomplicated positives that everybody thinks are funny.

It's purposefully blending comedy and horror together, but the execution feels like the disparate ingredients are hindering each other's effectiveness. The horror stuff rarely gets sufficient gravity and is just left as Hey Look Horrifying Implications, and the jokes are often undermined by all the seriousness left lying around. It's a flavor combination that doesn't work for me.

And then the stuff with the Deertaur and the Princess is incredibly interesting and profound and tragic, and I don't understand why it's happening in the same show as everything else?

Also, this is a minor nitpick, but the musical numbers were astounding in the first season but seemed to experience some sort of weird categorical downgrade in season 2. All the solid numbers were reprises from season 1.

Centaurworld was doing something very much on purpose, and I just don't think I got what that something was.

[lilbitdepressed27]

Tara Carpenter/Fem!Reader The Last Of Us AU

Warnings: mentions of attempted r*pe but it doesn’t go into detail. Torture.

WC: 7.0k

Author’s Note: no one asked for it but I was replaying the last of us and I got inspired. So here y’all go. Hope y’all enjoy. Also I’d like to wish everyone happy holidays :D sorry for any mistakes in advance.

***

"So you and Tara. What's that about?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on everyone saw you two kiss at the dance."

"I don't know. She just kissed me, she probably just did that to make Chad jealous. You know how she gets when she's been drinking."

You were riding on the back of the horse that had been yours for the past five years. Ever since you got to the town, Jackson with your best friend who was more of a father figure to you. Things have been decent. Ever since you and Dewey left Boston things have been...different. But it was good type of different. The journey to Jackson was tough. It was something you were sure you'd never forget. The pain and suffering you went through was scaring.

The five years you've been safe behind the walls of Jackson. It was a beautiful place to call home. But even with time moving on, you still had nightmares of the year you had been on the road with the older man. It had been hard to get used the peacefulness of living in Jackson.

Now here you were on patrol with a friend of yours. Mindy had been a close friend since you arrived in Jackson. Along with some others. She also happened to be Chad's twin. She had always complained about how Chad and Tara weren't right for each other. Tara had also been a close friend of yours. A girl you also had a massive crush on.

"You haven't spoken to her?"

"Of course not. You were literally the one to wake me up for patrol. I haven't seen her since I ran out of there after the kiss last night." You got off the horse once you reached the radio tower. Feeling the judgmental look coming from Mindy. You purposely ignored the look as you moved to go up the stairs.

"Dude you're such a pussy." Mindy spoke out as she followed you up to the logging book.

The tower looked over the north side of the land. It really was a beautiful sight. The patrol was set to check the tower along with the surrounding area. Your partner was usually Tara but she had an accident last time she went out with Chad on patrol. She had a nasty fall and still hadn't been cleared to go back out on patrols. Even though she seemed fine now.

"Looks clear. We'll go out to the small town near by make sure it's clear down there as well. We don't need any infected or raiders near Jackson. We'll go quietly. Just to be safe." You spoke as you looked through the binoculars looking down at the small town that was near by. There were a few houses, most of them being destroyed, where no raiders could use as cover. And a grocery store that had seen better days.

"If we move now we could beat the storm coming in from the south." You handed the binoculars to Mindy, as you pointed to said storm.

"Yea come on then. I have a lady I'd like to get back to." She handed back the binoculars back to you. You stuffed them back in your bag and nodded.

"Come on then."

You had always taken the roll of a leader since being allowed to patrol. It was a roll that was given to you by Sidney, who was seen as the leader of Jackson. Sidney was the sister of Dewey which you had no idea at the time. But as you spent more time in the walls. You had grown close to the older woman. She had become like mother figure to you. She had helped quite a lot when you first arrived. She had seen the best of you and knew you'd be great out on patrol. Dewey had taken a bit to get used to. He always wanted you to be safe and careful. Which you were. He truly had nothing to worry about.

As you rode down to the small town you mind wondered to your best friend.

As you rode down to the small town you mind wondered to your best friend.

*Flashback*

You were drawing the destroyed clinic. You had always wondered what the world was like before the infection took over. Dewey often told you stories about the world before the infection hit. It was something you would have loved to see. You had been amazed at all the things you saw on the journey to Salt Lake and then back to Jackson. It had been your first time out side of the walls of the QZ. You had spent fourteen years in those walls. Being able to be outside of the walls had you excited but also terrified. You had heard of the stories that happened out side of the walls. Ever since you had been given the journal by Dewey you used it as a way to express yourself.

"You are so good at drawing."

The sudden voice right next to your ear had you jumping just a bit. You looked to your left to see the face of your best friend. Her chin resting on your shoulder as she looked down at your journal. She was standing on a empty supply box in order to reach your shoulder. You loved how short Tara was. Her height was one of the many things you loved about her. Tara had been your first friend when you arrived at Jackson. It had been hard at first, getting used to peacefulness that came with living in Jackson. The year you were on the road with Dewey had been a tough one. Especially during the winter. The winter had brought back some memories you wished to forget.

But with Tara around, she had become such a great help. Opening up to Tara had been difficult, you didn't open up to her right away. And you didn't tell her everything. You had felt so, ashamed of what happened during the winter. You had never felt so...weak.

"You should paint me like one of your French girls."

You could tell that what she said was meant to be a joke but the joke had gone right over your head, cause you didn't have slightest clue on what she was talking about.

"What? Like my who?"

With a small laugh escaping from her lips, she moved to stand in front of you with a teasing smile on her face. "It's reference from a movie, I'll have to show you when we get back. Now come on. I wanna see what's inside of the building."

You felt Tara's eyes on you as moved to stand in front of her after putting your journal away. You knew Tara could take care of herself. She was strong and smart. You tried not to show it but you had shown signs of protectiveness towards her. Something you knew she hated it,  when someone thought she couldn't handle herself. She's complained about Chad doing it all the time. Sam did to. But you couldn't help it. You had to protect her.

*End of Flashback*

"Yo Y/n, you good?"

The voice snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked at Mindy and nodded. "Come on, we'll tie the horses good distance from the actual town. It's small, but we don't know who or what could be hiding in there. Horses could bring us some unwanted attention. We'll go on foot."

You got off your horse and loosely tied her reins to a tree. You had to make sure that if something spooked her she'd be able to get away. All the horses knew their way back to Jackson. Which was a good thing. You'd hate for her to get lost and killed.

"Alright then, let's check the pharmacy first. The houses seem too run down for someone to be in there. Then we'll check the market and lastly the ski lodge." Mindy spoke as she also tied her horse next to yours and walked towards your side. She didn't really want to go to ski lodge. Especially with the storm coming in. But she had drawn the short straw with the other patrols. Once a week, one patrol has to make the trip to the lodge to make sure there was no raiders there.

"Let's go then. The quicker we finish here the quicker we get the lodge and then back home."

**

"Home base come in, this is patrol 3 done with the grocery store. Heading up to the lodge." You spoke into the walkie talkie. There had been a few of the infected in the store. But it wasn't nothing that you and Mindy couldn't handle.

"Roger that. Please be careful going up there okay. Check back in the second you're done."

The sound of Tara's voice had you cheeks feeling warm. The look that Mindy shot you had been enough for you turn away from her. It was a hundred percent due to how cold it was and not because of the memory of Tara's soft lips on your own.

"We will Tara don't worry."

"Hurry back to me okay? Cause we have a movie night to get started."

The walkie talkie was taken from your hands before you could reply. "Don't worry Tara I'll bring your little girlfriend back to you. Now stop flirting so she can focus. Over and out."

"...Over and out."

You heard Tara mumble, you could picture her face at the this very moment. The small blush that colored her freckled cheeks. How you loved loved counting her freckles.

"You're such a dick." You pushed her away from your horse. Mindy laughed as she put the walkie talkie in her bag and getting on her horse.

"Oh come on. Don't you think it's about time you and Tara get together. I mean, even Dewey noticed how you two act around each other. Dewey out of all people." Mindy groaned in mock frustration. She truly wanted you and Tara to be happy. Anyone with eyes could see the bond you and Tara have. They way Tara was quick to become your friend. The way Tara, from the moment you arrived had been determined to be around you and be your friend. The way Tara had become so protective of you, it had all been something so obvious.

"Nuh uh, Gale had done nothing but flirt with the old man since we got here. And he hasn't noticed. Plus like I said earlier Tara's just...confused. Her and Chad had always been off and on again." You argued, there was just no way. And you sure as hell didn't want to get your hopes up.

"God Y/n, you are so bad at this. How can you not see it. I'll never understand."

"You don't understand, I'm not-I've never really had a..." A wave of her hand urging you to continue. "Ugh I've never been in a relationship." A wave of embarrassment crossed your face.

"What?!"

"Dude, would you shut up." You looked around with red cheeks (although you would blame it on the cold) to make sure the cost was still clear.

"Wait what do you mean, you haven't been in a relationship? I thought you dated Quinn. Literally everyone thought you two were dating."

You shook your head. Quinn was a great friend. Other than Tara, Quinn had also been a good friend. She was also the main reason why you could now wear sleeveless shirts. The chemical burn was a nasty scar and you had been insecure about it. So at first not only did you have to wear long sleeve shirts cause of the bite mark. But also cause of the chemical burn. Quinn had been the first one out of your friend group to see the chemical burn. She had offered to cover it up with a tattoo.

But back to the rumor, Quinn was just a friend. Don't get it wrong you had a one night stand once or twice. Quinn liked you as friend and that was it. It was same for you.

"Well I, I mean we did fool around once or twice. But that was it. It was never anything serious. Now can we save this talk for another time. We're almost there." You got off your horse and tied her up once again. The ski lodge wasn't far now. It looked empty from a far. But you knew it was a great spot for raiders to be camping in. The lodge was in perfect condition, it was a great spot to hide in to get out of the cold.

"Home base, we are at the lodge. Stand by for status." Mindy spoke into the walkie talkie. With a conformation coming from Tara.

"Okay, check in the second it's cleared."

"Copy."

You guys moved up wards. Taking your rifle and getting it ready. You were a good distance from the lodge where if someone was in there they wouldn't see you coming.

"You take the back, and I'll take the front?" Mindy spoke as you both went through the hole in the fence.

"No we stick together. I have a bad feeling about this. Stay close and stay quiet."

But nothing would have prepared either of the two for what was to come.

**

The short brunette sat next to the radio waiting for the patrols to give the all clear. She had woken up in the morning with her lips still tingling from the kiss she had with her best friend. The feeling of your lips on her were everything she dreamed of and more. The way your lips moved against hers were just so exhilarating, she wanted more. She needed more. The love she had for you was something she had been hiding for years now.

She never really hid the feelings. You were just so damn oblivious it was cute at first but it had started to get annoying. Why couldn't you understand that she had feelings for you.

The confused look you always had when she flirted with you, she couldn't help but to laugh sometimes. The innocent look on your face was so, cute. The feelings she got every time she looked at you. It was feelings that she had never felt before. She had thought she was in love with Chad but from the moment she first saw you. She knew she wasn't.

She remembered the first time she saw you. It had been few months before you actually stayed in Jackson with Dewey. She had seen you walking around with the older man and Sidney. Later she found out that Sidney and Dewey were related. But she remembered you clearly. She had wanted nothing more than to walk up to you that day but she couldn't cause they got attacked soon after. And then you were gone with one of the horses.

She had seen Sidney and Dewey take off to find you, only for Sidney to return alone with an extra horse. No sight of Dewey or you. She had been left with so much...regret? Regretting that she didn't talk to you before you left. She had really thought that she would never see you again. But almost a year later she had watched how you and Dewey came to Jackson.

She'd never forget the look in your eyes, when you followed Dewey and Sidney. You had changed from the last time she had seen you. But this time she made sure to talk to you. You had been closed off at first. But with time she was able to get through your tall walls.

Your smile was something she absolutely loved. Along with your laugh. It took a while for to hear it. But once she did, she was on a mission to always hear it again.

There was just something about you that had her heart in a tight grip. Taking you out to dance last night had been her sitting her foot down and taking the first step. Cause she knew if she waited for you to do it, she'd be waiting way too long. She was done waiting.

It had been going great up until that asshole Frankie interrupted the kiss and called her a dyke. That asshole had interrupted something she had been working hard to get and when you stood up straight your smile no longer on your face. She knew there was no stopping you. You stood in front of her as you demanded Frankie to say it again. And Frankie being the moron he was, had repeated it. He didn't necessarily get to finish the slur before you punched him so hard he had been knocked out.

She knew how protective you were of not only her but of every single one of your friends. Remembering how you punched someone else for calling Ethan a faggot. She had seen the way your shoulders tensed at all the eyes being on you. You were never good when it came down to having all the attention on you. Before she could go to comfort you, you had ran out of there. She tried to follow you but she had lost you in the crowd.

"Home base come in, this is patrol 3 done with the grocery store. Heading up to the lodge."

At the sound of your voice she was quick to snap out of her thoughts and quickly reach for the radio.

"Roger that. Please be careful going up there okay. Check back in the second you're done." She hated that she wasn't the one with you. It's not that she didn't trust Mindy or believe that Mindy would keep you safe. It was just that she wanted to be the one with you. When it was you and her, it was like you both were unstoppable. She had preferred being parred with you. She just felt more reassured of your safety when she was with you.

"We will Tara don't worry." Your gentle voice had her smiling with out her even realizing.

"Hurry back to me okay? Cause we have a movie night to get started." It was a small date, she had named it that, before the kiss happened last night. Teasing you was always so easy, she just wished she could see your blush right now.

"Don't worry Tara I'll bring your little girlfriend back to you. Now stop flirting so she can focus. Over and out." Mindy's voice teased right back. This time she was glad she was alone, so no once could see her own blush that was no doubt on her neck as well.

"...Over and out." She mumbled in the radio. She swore she could hear Mindy's laughter from here.

"Not fun being on the other end of being teased is it?"

Tara looked up to see Sam standing there with a small smile on her face. Tara had arrived in Jackson with Sam when she was eleven and Sam was eighteen. Sam had been in bad shape when they met Sidney. Since then Sidney had taken them under her care and basically became somewhat of a mother figure. She had never been so thankful that in that moment they met Sidney. Cause for a moment she had thought that Sam wasn't going to make it.

"Shut up. How was patrol?" Sam had been tasked to go on patrol. It had been the short route. Apparently Sam had won it playing poker with some of the older men.

"It was alright. No signs of infected or any raiders." Sam looked back at her younger sister. The red of her cheeks was still noticeable. When Sam had first met you, you had been a quiet, shy girl. Sidney had spoken to her and Tara when you and Dewy arrived for the second time. She had also remembered how much Tara had asked Sidney about the older man and the younger girl he had been with. The first time she saw them.

The amount of times Tara had asked Sidney when they were coming back. Or if they were coming back. From the very first moment. She had known that Tara wanted more than just friendship.

Or how obviously jealous Tara had gotten when you started hanging out with Quinn more often. She had never seen her sister get so jealous. Not even when Chad would speak to other girls or be seen hanging g around other girls. Not to say Chad was the cheating type. But how annoyed she'd see Tara get when you'd be seen around with Quinn. It was almost too funny.

She being the mature person she was and simply asked you about Quinn. Like a normal person. You had said that you and Quinn were just friends and that was it. She had asked a few days ago.

"You do know that Quinn and Y/n never dated right?"

"What? Yes they did. Everyone has seen them together. Not to mention when Ethan said he saw y/n coming out of Quinn's apartment."

"Okay so if let's say Y/n is dating Quinn. Why would you kiss her?" Sam sat down and really looked at her sister. The way the younger girl looked down at her hands. The guilty and shameful look glossed over her sisters face. The crestfallen look directed her way.

"I don't know. I mean, Quinn hasn't said anything to me and I saw her this morning. She even smiled at me. Lord knows what I would have done if someone kissed my Y/-my partner. I sure as hell wouldn't smile at them." Tara looked down at her hands. "I love her Sam. I love her so much. I thought I loved Chad. And I do love him. Just not in that way. He's great. But I-You want Y/n." Sam finished for her.

She nodded as she felt her eyes fill with tears. The fear of rejection had become to crawl its way back.

"Well then Tara you-Base come in!" Mindy's voice cut through the room. The faint sound of gun fire being able to be heard in the background.

"Mindy what's wrong?" Tara was quick to respond.

"Fuck, there's too many! They got Y/n! Fuck, I'm hurt and I barely have any—" The gun fire was heard and Sam moved fast to call in Sidney and Dewy. Moving to gather a group to help her friends.

"—Ammo. Fuckfuck. They got Y/n. They took her. And I don't know where. Send help! Quickly!"

Tara wouldn't be able to explain how she felt in that very moment, even if she tried. Gale, who had had come into the room the moment Sam ran out shouting. The older woman took the radio from Tara. Signaling for her to go.

At the sound of more gun shots coming from the radio. Everything snapped back to normal. Tara was out of her seat and running to the armory. She needed to find you. She needed to get you.

She has to save you.

*

"Now tell us about Jackson."

A hard punch was delivered to the side of your head. You hadn't expected for things to turn so quickly. The ambush was something you truly weren't expecting. Maybe a few guys, no more than five. Something you knew you and Mindy could handle. But almost a dozen people had been in that house. It was like they expected for you to come.

"Fuck," You groaned, letting out a wet chuckle. The beating you have been receiving has been, well just that. A beating. "Go fuck yourself."

"Mmh a feisty one. They always turn into the begging ones." The man smirked as he leaned down getting in your face. His yellow dirty teeth just about made you want to throw up.

"Ugh ew gross. Ever heard of toothpaste?" Your head snapped to the right from the force of the punch.

"Your people, they won't find you."

"Oh I don't know man, I don't mean to brag but my best friend is very protective of me. And she's a scary woman when she's mad. And she can be very ambitious." A punch to the gut had you hunched over in the chair you were tied to. Gasping for the air that was punched out of you.

"Shut up. Now if you won't talk we will make you talk."

**

Tara, Sam, Dewey (there was no stopping that man from getting to you) Chad, Ethan (who both had been on patrol and over heard Mindy's distress call), Anika who had been quick to follow Sam the moment she heard. A few others had also gone.

"We don't know how many are in that lodge. We can use the storm as cover. Stay with your partner we can't risk one of you being lost in the storm. Okay?" With a nod of understanding. Dewey moved from the table. "Keep things quiet. Chances are they have Mindy's and Y/n's radio." Taking out his radio and holding it up to his mouth. "Patrols, this is home base. Return to home base. Storm is going to get worse. Too dangerous to be out."

"What are you doing?" Ethan spoke from standing next to Chad. He wanted to get to his friends. Who knows what those assholes were doing to them. He also couldn't lose them. He had been so close to just going off to the lodge with Chad. They had been closer Mindy and Y/n.

"We gotta make them believe that no one is going to the lodge. Hopefully that brings down their guard. Come on let's go."

*

"Patrols, this is home base. Return to home base. Storm is going to get worse. Too dangerous to be out."

"Oh well you listen to that. Looks like your people aren't coming. Now tell us what we want or, suffer." The man smirked down at you. His hands still had blood, your blood. You wondered where was Mindy in all this. You had hoped that she wasn't facing the same suffering as you were. Hoping that she somehow made it out.

"Fuck you."

A scream full of pain tore through your throat as the knife went down on your thigh. The agonizing pain as he tapped the knife. Your tried not to show any signs of pain. But you could only hide the pain for so long. The knife in your thigh was clear sign of that. You already had one knife going through your palm.

"Now, how many of you are there?" When he didn't get a response, other than the heavy breathing coming from the girl, he slapped her cheek. Then roughly cupping her cheeks to make her look at him. He couldn't deny that she was much stronger than any other guy he's done this to. But there was a clear difference between torturing a man and a woman.

One of the biggest fears for woman was being helpless in the hands of a mad man. A man no one was going to stop.

*

Tara barely remembered getting to the lodge. Quietly killing some of the guards that were too unbothered to actually do a guards job. She had one goal in mind. One thing. Save you and Mindy. The men that stood in her way, saw no mercy. The knife she used, a knife you had given her, a modified buck 120. It was knife she treasured with her heart. Caring it everywhere she went. The way knife slit there throats, hearing them choke on their own blood. She didn't hear.

A hand on her shoulder indicated for her to stop. She looked back at Sam, who pointed at one of the doors. A door to what she assumed was a supply room. With a nod she prepared herself for her sister to open the door. The door was pushed open only to see Mindy tied to a chair badly beaten. Mindy's wrist tied to the arms of the chair. Her mouth tapped shut. Eyes widening when they made eye contact with Sam.

Sam was quick to untie Mindy and removing the tape. "Fuck. Did you guys find Y/n yet?" Mindy whispered as groaned from the pain coming from her arm. The gun shot wound burned but she knew she'd be fine.

"No. Do you know where she could be? We've cleared the down stairs area. Most of the men I'm sure." Tara whispered back.

"Fuck, I heard them say she was in the main office upstairs. With the leader I'm assuming. He asked to not be disturbed. Fuck, that was few minutes ago. We gotta go stop him. Who knows what he's doing-No Tara wait for us." The whispered shout was not registered.

Tara had not waited for Mindy to finish was she was going to stay. The implication was there. The horrifying picture was there and they were rage filled.

With those in mind, she was still not prepared for when she pushed open the main office door. You chained up to ceiling by your wrists. To see your shirt cut open from the middle exposing your bra. Your jeans being unbuckled with the zipper down. You showing no signs of consciousness. The man in front of you had no shirt, had been in the process of taking of his own jeans.

This rage that coursed through her body, it was something she never felt before.

"I said to leave us alone-"

The sentence was never finished. Tara moved with a speed the man couldn't process. The knife cutting the man's popliteal artery. The screams of the man were heard. The way he fell clutching the back of his knee has the blood gushed out. She didn't stop there. Moving to cut off the genitals, that had been out. The disgust and anger she felt were fueled. His screams grew louder. Letting him suffer for few more seconds before she silenced by stabbing him in the mouth. His blood spraying on her face as he chocked. The life fading from his eyes.

She was quick to turn around taking in your beaten body. The way your bra had been cut half way down the middle. Almost exposing you. She felt her eyes fill with tears at what you almost went through. The choked sob as the amount of blood, your blood covering your body.

"Y/n? Baby open your eyes. It's okay now. He's dead. Fuck, Sam!!" Your breathing was uneven, she couldn't get you down by herself. The rope tying your wrist to ceiling being too high.

"Dewey! Somebody fucking help me!!"  She dropped her back pack. Taking out the medical supplies. The gauze to stop the bleeding coming from your leg. She had moved with a with such a hurry. She couldn't lose you. The blood coming out of your body was too much.

"Oh my god."

"Don't just fucking stand there. Help me get her down." Tying the wound after stuffing the wound with some gauze, like she was taught hoping that would stop the bleeding. Hearing your groans of pain had her tears escaping her eyes. She had also been quick to button up your jeans.

Sam, Dewey and Ethan were by her side in seconds. Sam and Dewey  holding you as Ethan cut the rope. Your body falling into her arms almost taking her down if it weren't for Sam and Dewey holding you.

"We have to get her back to Jackson." Ethan said as he glanced back at the man. The anger he felt had been so intense. But seeing the state of the way the man was left. He figured that the man got what he deserved although he wished he could done some harm to the man. He saw how Tara tended to you, the way she was fast to take out everything she needed to help you.

"We have to go."

Tara moved to grab your jacket that had been thrown to the side. With the help of Sam she was able to put on the jacket making sure every wound she saw had been covered and cleaned in hopes you wouldn’t get any infection. Ethan had moved to carry you out of the office. Tara following close behind.

Dewey would have carried you but he knew with his injured leg he wouldn't be able to. His leg had been shot during a raid, a year back. His leg almost being shot off completely. He had been lucky to still have his leg. Although he couldn't carry heavy things, not at risk of his leg giving out.

But he did hold on to the y/hc haired girl when he got on his horse. The girl he looked as his daughter. The fury he felt was still there. Seeing the bruises, cuts and dried blood on your face was-, the storm was raging on and they had to get back to Jackson quick. The group rode close and fast. Tara being close to him as they rode, her eyes looking at you every few seconds. He knew how much the short brunette cared about his daughter. The concern that was obvious in the girls eyes. He could still see the rage in her eyes as well. He had seen the bodies left in her wake, the way no one could stop her to get to Y/n.

He held Y/n closer to him. Making sure she wouldn’t fall from his grasp from all the movement. That guy had what was coming and he hoped he felt every painful stab before he was killed.

*

With how fast they were moving, they had gotten to Jackson in no time. Sidney had her husband Derek, who was the doctor of the town. Ready. She had been ready to go with the group to save you. But she knew she couldn't. Not when she had a baby on the way. So she stayed. Waiting in the tower hoping to see any sign of the group returning. She waited about three hours before seeing lights. With storm she could barely see the lights, but when she was sure it was them, she had the gates opened. Hurrying down the stairs to get to the group.

Seeing Mindy first. The girl was injured but from what she could see the girl looked okay. Which was relief. But when she the state Y/n was in, she gasped. Hurrying after Ethan who had gotten off his horse to help Dewey. He had been quick to take Y/n and rush her to the house that was their own little hospital. Tara was on at his heels hurrying after him. Derek had also moved so fast she could barely register what was happening.

"What happened?" She asked Dewey as soon as they were out of the storm.

"They wanted entail on Jackson. They had been camped out there for at least a week. Seeing is that they weren't their last week. They tried to get information out of the girls. They-" Dewey clenched his jaw. The image of how he found you flashing in his mind. His fists shaking wishing he had gotten his hands on that man. "They're dead now. There won't be anyone coming looking for them."

Sidney knew, she didn't have to ask. The way Dewey was acting from the way Tara had been covered in blood and from what it looked like, it wasn't hers. To the way Ethan (who was usually a sweet, caring boy) and Sam had the looks of just anger that she knew.

*

The first thing you felt when you woke up was the pain. The pain coming from all over your body. It was almost too much to bare. The dryness of your throat felt like it was rubbed with sand paper. The last thing you remember was being hit repeatedly by that asshole. Then everything went black. You didn't remember anything after that. You were clearly saved, which you were grateful for.

Eyes snapping open, when you remembered Mindy. You tried to get up but the pain prevented you from that. Not only did the pain stop you but warm hands gently touching our shoulders. Your eyes (one eye cause the other was swollen shut) connected with the familiar dark chocolate colored eyes you loved.

"Tara." You smiled softly, your uninjured hand reaching over to wipe the tear that escaped her red puffy eyes. Then cupping her cheek. Smiling through the pain when she leaned into you hand, one of her hands moving to be in top of yours. You had been so grateful to see her beautiful face again. "Is Mindy okay?" You rasped out.

"She's okay." Tara whispered back. Her eyes taking every single cut, bruise that she could find. Your face cleaned of any blood, making the bruises and cut stand out more. She couldn't help the tears as she gripped your hand with both of hers. Crying as she brought your hand to her lips.

"Fuck, I was so scared, I thought I was going to lose you."

Your heart clenched at the sound of her sobs. "I'm okay. Come here." Taking the shorter girls hand gently pulling on it.

"But you're hurt—I don't care. Lay with me, please."

With a bit of hesitation, she laid by your side. Your good arm wrapping around her shoulder pulling her closer. She was careful not to cause you any harm in any way. Feeling her shoulders relax as her head laid on your shoulder. Feeling your lips on her hair line. With your warmth pressed to her body, the exhaustion finally took over.

*

Tara had stayed by your side. Helping you when ever she could. It had been a week since, that day. You were thankful that Tara had stayed by your side. But something had been off since that day. You could tell something was bothering the shorter girl.

You sat on your couch in the garage right behind the house Dewey lived in. Tara was in the kitchen making a small dinner for the both of you. She was a lot more quiet than usual. It was starting to worry you. You figured she needed time to process what happened to you. But the more she had her moments like this, quiet, stuck in her head. The more you felt like she was keeping something from you.

You carefully took your injured foot off the coffee table where it was resting. Biting your lip at the pain. Your thigh and palm wound had been thee most painful out of the injuries. From what Derek said you had been lucky. Only severally bruised ribs, lucky to not have your eye socket broken, or nose for that matter. And lucky that the knife to the palm didn't cause any nerve damage. Even with all that luck, the pain was still very much there.

You stood up straight making sure to put too much weight on your bad leg. Taking the crutch Ethan had fixed up for you.

"Hey you're supposed to be off the leg." Tara was by your side in seconds. Her hands going to hold your waist only for them to freeze before she actually touched you. That had also been something that you had noticed. Tara wouldn't touch you until she had your full consent. It was something she usually never really had to ask for.

"Okay, tell me what's wrong? At first I thought it was due to injuries I have. But that's not it, is it." You stood straight in front of her. You wanted to know what was causing her to act so strange. When Tara refused to look at you, you took her chin with your good hand. Gently turning her head, you were a bit taken back when you saw the tears in her eyes. Even with the tears, you could see a hint of anger in her eyes.

“Talk to me Tar, what’s wrong?” With your thumb you took her bottom lip away from her teeth. You knew she had a habit of biting her bottom lip when anxious.

“Fuck Y/n, I-I don’t, the guy he was-that mother fucker was going to-” She couldn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t have to. You knew exactly what she meant. The feeling of disgust and dread at what happened.

“He didn’t-He didn’t you know—No! No I got there in time.” This time Tara was quick to take your hands in hers. There had been no hesitation on her part this time. She lead you back to the couch.

“Is he dead?”

“Yes. He died a very slow painful death. I made sure of that. No one harms you and gets away with it.” Tara held your hands and looked back into your eyes.

“Tara, thank you. For saving me.” You looked away debating whether you should tell her.

“You don’t have to thank me, I love you Y/n. You’re my best friend. I’ll do anything for you. Even if it means cutting off a creeps dick.”

Your jaw dropped a short surprised laugh escaping your lips. “What? His dick?”

She smiled proudly, “Yup, chopped it right off. It’s what he deserved. Nobody messes with my girl.” Her confidence never breaking eye contact had you blushing.

“Your girl huh. I like the sound of that.” It had been her turn to blush.

“Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t have to ask.” With that you pulled her into a long awaited kiss. This time you would make sure to pore everything into the kiss. To make sure Tara knew how much she felt for her. The feeling of her warm hands cupping your cheeks bringing you even closer to her. Only pulling away when lack of air became an issue. She rested her head on to yours. Her thumbs creasing your cheeks.

“I love you to Tara.”

Tara smiled, her dimples on full display. She couldn’t help herself as she once again pulled into a kiss. The feeling of your lips on her was something she had dreamed of. And now she had you.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE:)

[telesodalite]

Really slogging through this month creativity-wise, so... uhhhh??? Various scavengers headcanons in no particular order??

Putting them below in case it gets too long 👁👁👍

-

: Misfire has freakishly good handwriting. He won't say why, claiming it's just pure talent or something, but in truth it's because he spent most of his academy days stuck in some form of detention writing rules, regulations, and flight calculations over and over again until some form of perfect standard academic print became muscle memory as a side effect.

: Misfire also has an uncanny ability to mimic people's voices and various sounds. Lots of time to kill throughout his life led to some odd talents. Can't hit a high note to save his life though.

: Speaking of high notes, Krok is mildly sensitive to loud noises. Being on the frontlines for most of the war left him with an on and off again tinnitus. Certain loud noises trigger it, causing his audials to glitch and statically ring with feedback.

: Both Krok and Crankcase suffer from the occasional migraine, with Krok's being more akin to a silent migraine, and Crankcase's being more severe and frequent due to the head trauma.

: Krok has a habit of collecting old personal logs and journals from the abandoned bases and stations they pick through. They have no value, but it mattered to someone once, and their perspectives and experiences are recorded within. He's not sure what he's going to do with all of them, but he often finds himself reading through their words again and again.

: Spinister is often incredibly quiet despite his size, and frequently unintentionally sneaks up on everyone. The mix of his controlled footfalls, and softer way of speaking, (outside of stressful moments at least), have led to the others nearly jumping out of their own frames when he seemingly just pops up behind them to ask a question or check-in.

: This quietness makes Spinister an incredibly scary opponent in close-quarters, as at any moment he could slink around a corner, and next thing you know, there's a rotor blade protruding through your chest. As you bleed out, he finally makes noise by loudly, and cheerily proclaiming he "got one!' :D

: Krok is also a fairly tough opponent in close-quarters. While he's skilled in a range of weaponry, mostly shotguns and sidearms, it's when he doesn't have range that things can get brutal. Think martial arts meets some sort of nightmare soccer strategy with a knife. Lots of broken legs and shattered kibble as he brings opponents down to his level, or rather, the floor.

: Post-war though, Krok often gets caught in a flashback, and sort of checks out during or after the fight. Especially at the sight or sound of any spinal breaking or tearing, he'll freeze and has to be pulled back to safety until he's with them again.

: Despite how much he tried, and still tries, to become something of a marksman, Misfire would honestly do better with hand-to-hand. His previous instructors and leaders knew this, and sorta kinda hoped he would pursue it for the sake of actually being useful during grounded combat. But nah, its not what he wants to do. Until he's forced to at least, then he's a menace who has no qualms with playing dirty. Only problem is his lack of training, which more often than not ends up biting him in the aft.

: Krok also sees Misfire's potential, but trying to teach him any legitimate strategy goes nowhere. Usually during sparring, Misfire taunts Krok into dropping any strategy himself, pissing him off to the point they're both beaten and bloody and heaving on the floor, because Misfire won't back down, and Krok is still very competitive at his core. It's a good way to blow off some steam tho, even if no one is learning anything from it.

: Crankcase hates close combat, and greatly prefers a comfortable distance in any situation. Fulcrum would probably rather kiss an organic than willingly put himself in close-quarters with someone trying hurt or kill him. So sparring isn't really much of an interest to either of them. Crankcase pulls the medical exemption card when asked, and Fulcrum tried every excuse when the others attempted to teach him something. Ultimately he was tossed into a few sparring lessons whether he liked it or not. A few kicks and one hell of a punch from Krok, a couple enthusiastic tackles and strangleholds from Misfire, and one very scary attempt to escape Spinister only to end up on the floor in seconds, and he quickly reconsidered self-defense.

: On the topic of floors, Fulcrum is quite the architectural nerd, and greatly enjoys getting to freely explore and pick around through abandoned bases and colonies. While the decline in Decepticon style and grand structural flair post-empire is disappointing, and frankly a lost art in his eyes, he still finds the more practical run-of-the-mill bases and structures just as fascinating, and can and will ramble on about the materials and structural details. Finding remaining blueprints is a rare and exciting achievement that no one else but him really appreciates :(

: Misfire, despite being all for their whole scavenging thing, isn't terribly keen on the whole exploring abandoned places angle of their work. He's not terribly claustrophobic, like most fliers, but certain spaces send a chill up his spine. Something about a place that should be full of noise and life sitting empty and quiet just doesn't sit right with him. Add a hint of his neither here nor there superstitious beliefs, and half of these derelict places might as well be haunted or cursed. Fulcrum finds this incredibly amusing, because, psh, its just an empty building? There's literally no rational thing to be scared of, like organics, or pirates, or killer plants, or blood walls, or small organics, or Autobots, or bugs, or wooden frames, or big organics, or the DJD, or ceiling brains, or cops, or- etc etc. So, get over it, lol. They all think it's weirdly hypocritical tho, since Misfire tends to be the most casually morbid. Totally chill with dead people, just not "dead" spaces. Perfectly fine on the remains of a battlefield, hates being near an actual tomb.

: Crankcase sometimes hangs back from scavenging trips, either making some excuse about fixing something on the ship or not feeling well, just so he can work on a small collection of handmade starship models he's been making from scrap in secret. He's a little embarrassed about it, hence the secrecy, but it's a hobby that brings him a lot of joy. Cons4eva was the first person he showed them to, and after some encouraging feedback, he showed the others, and was a little taken aback and suprised when the rest of the scavs found his creations really impressive and neat.

: After that, sometimes the others would buy or steal actual models from markets and such to bring Crankcase. Misfire is usually the one stealing things, but it was Fulcrum who somehow pocketed and made off quietly with a very rare and expensive model he remembered being a favorite of Crankcase's.

: Generally they all apply the five finger discount approach to shopping. But Misfire and Spinister are the best at it, with Misfire being very good at causing a distraction, and Spinister just naturally having a habit of quietly picking stuff up as he goes along. Krok sometimes overthinks it too much, Fulcrum almost always hesitates, and Crankcase just doesn't often care enough to try.

: Misfire isn't allowed to go out shopping alone tho since the incident...

: Spinister also isn't really allowed to go shopping alone, but for reasons not relating to stand-offs with local law enforcement. He always forgets the list, and just comes back with random items that caught his attention, some paid for some stolen. He bought a giant alien squirrel once. It "disappeared" not long after, much to his disappointment, but everyone else knew Fulcrum left the cargobay door open on purpose.

: Krok and Fulcrum shopping together is simultaneously as efficient as it gets and also pointlessly drawn out. They're going to argue about something inane while going over what goes on their strict list of necessities, then be in and out of the store casually and without any trouble or unnecessary purchase. Consider stopping for lunch afterward, argue over where to eat, then have a pleasant vaguely gossip-y lunch, and then have another argument about the directions getting back to the W.A.P. "Maybe we should stop and ask for directions.", and "We have a perfectly good map, we don't need directions." can go either way depending on their moods.

: That said, Krok and Fulcrum get into a lot of very pointless arguments, for reasons Fulcrum can't pinpoint and Krok doesn't care to disclose. Fulcrum tries to deescalate more often than not, but after a certain amount of snide remarks, he gets very petty about it. Unfortunately Krok is yet again, still competitive, and will dethrone any reigning monarch of pettiness that day if his hand is forced. This is entertaining to everyone but Fulcrum. Don't dare try and interrupt tho, or you'll get caught in the crossfire. Spinister tried to mediate once... it went poorly. Misfire likes to make it worse tho >:)

: Personally, Spinister does not like to argue, and if he finds himself in a heated argument or verbal fight, he'll just straight up leave. Without a word, just up and gone. Won't bring it up either, might as well have never happened. This is simultaneously a blessing and a curse for everyone else.

: Misfire likes to argue, or rather, he likes to debate. Especially about random topics, just for the hell of it. Spinister doesn't tolerate it, Krok will humor it occasionally, Crankcase sometimes plays along also for the hell of it, and Fulcrum sorta missed the whole "for the hell of it" part, and will legitimately debate back because wtf do you mean "is cereal soup?"!?

: Out of the whole group, only Misfire and Fulcrum can really "cook", in the sense that they're the only two capable of making more than one thing from scratch. But, they cook very differently, and the kitchen can become very hectic if they're cooking together.

: Fulcrum is more the type to follow a recipe to the T, very precise with each measurement, and careful with all the cheaper additives and "recycled ingredients" they have to work with. He likes a challenge, but he's also not particularly adventurous, so he doesn't stray too far from the basics. That way it's almost therapeutic, just following a recipe, and going through the motions. He tends to clean as he goes, figuring that just makes it easier for him after he's done. Getting the first bite or best of whatever he's made is obviously a justifiable reward for that effort.

: Misfire on the other hand, is the type to throw whatever tastes good in a pot or pan and somehow make something miraculously edible out of it all. Recipe-smeshipe, it's all about flavor and texture for him. You measure with your spark and your tank. The sweeter or spicier or both, the better. Food is a journey in his opinion, the newer and weirder the neater. If you see an optic float to the top of your bowl, awesome, lucky you! He uh, totally intended to put that in there... totally. Oh, and don't ask what's in the drink, you don't want to know. The kitchen looks like a warzone when he's done, and he's probably not going to clean it.

: Put them in the kitchen at the same time? You'll probably get a very decent dinner and desert, but it's going to take a bit before there's something to put on the table. Outside of the times Fulcrum has chased Misfire out with a kitchen knife and an actually decent aim, and that one time Misfire wasted a whole cake by shoving Fulcrum's face in it, it's mostly just a whole lot of bickering and minor food fights before they put their heads together and compromise. It's a rare occurrence, but also very worth it for everyone else.

: Spinister can't cook, but he can dice and slice like a pro. Krok can make like, one thing from scratch, and that's it, that's his thing, his one thing, but he's good at it. Crankcase just doesn't want to cook, he's fine living off their equivalent of coffee, beer, and ibuprofen.

: The temperature control of the W.A.P is caught in a silent war between them all. Krok and Fulcrum naturally run cold, Fulcrum more so than Krok due to a predominantly hollow frame, so a warmer temp is more comfortable. But Misfire and Spinister run warm, very warm in Misfire's case, so cooler is better. Crankcase could go either way, so he enjoys hijacking the thermostat just to mess with the others whenever he likes it. Ultimately the W.A.P itself is winning the war though, since it resets itself on a whim outside of anyone's control.

: Grimlock isn't participating in the "war", but due to his poor bodily control early on, he fluctuates wildly between being very cool and very warm, and is an unfortunate victim caught in the crossfire -_-

: Outside of the Captain's quarters, most of their rooms weren't originally bedrooms/bunkrooms.

: Misfire's room used to be the ship lab, but he converted half of it to be his quarters and the other half for collecting and mixing the energon they've scavenged. It's like if a circus, a frat room, a butcher shop, and a osha violation of a laboratory got turned into a bedroom. There's colorful string lights hanging from the walls, and an cracked TV that's always on in the corner, sometimes with music playing at the same time. He shoved two berths together and covered them in thick worn cushions and various mismatching pillows. The remaining lab holds glowing canisters full of various organs, with drip lines spiderwebbing haphazardly across them into portable vats. Vials of energon and other various bodily fluids fill the spaces between. Depending, sometimes a partial corpse is resting on the lab counter, only halfway siphoned and emptied of it's internals before Misfire got distracted from working.

: Crankcase's used to be a storage room, but he's converted it into both a sleeping quarters and a workshop. While he often just works and repairs things in the cargobays for convenience, anything requiring more attention or precision ends up in his room. Tools and soon-to-be repurposed junk alike hang from the walls, and shelves and the floor are lined and cluttered with even more parts and pieces. It's very work focused, but there's a poster or two here and there, a small radio to keep up with what's going on in whatever sector there in, and the box of starship models shoved underneath his berth. The berth itself is fairly simple, worn cushions, just enough pillows to keep his helm protected, and a thin blanket in case he gets cold.

: Spinister technically has a room, one of the few rooms that had originally been a bunkroom, but he never really did anything with it ouside of simply shoving as many berth together to sleep on. More often he just sleeps in the medbay instead of dragging himself to "his" room. Other times he just sleeps in Krok's room, because the captain's quarters has the biggest not-shoved-together berth on the ship, and with Krok barely using it himself due to raging insomnia, Spinister's not letting those nice cushions and padding go to waste.

: The captain's quarters probably used to be nicer, neater, and more spacious, back when the W.A.P was just an Autobot exploration vessel, but Krok has filled as much of the space as possible with an overflowing desk, crates full of their most precious/expensive cargo, multiple crowded bookcases, a small personal arsenal, a secret cooler he had Crankcase install after one too many stolen drinks, and that large cozy berth that everyone but him seems intent on sleeping on.

: Like Crankcase, Fulcrum also ended up taking an old storage room, as the idea of taking Flywheels' room just didn't feel right. But besides the desk he maintains for working at and storing personal items in, and his berth, shoved in corner and piled high with padding and pillows, the rest of the room is still used for storage and organization of salvageable technology and more delicate items that he and Crankcase trade back and forth between their rooms to each repair and work on. On the days he's losing the thermostat war, he's got a small heater he runs to keep the chill out. A cold room reminds him too much of Styx, so nice and toasty it is. Keeping it toasty also has the added benefit of warding off Misfire from interrupting his work.

: None of them have particularly healthy or "normal" sleeping habits, mostly due to inconsistent energy and energon levels, but also for a range of reasons.

: During longer trips from sector to sector with no stops and little fuel, they all sort of enter a vaguely hibernating state of fuel conservation. Which just means they nap on and off again for most of the trip.

: All of them suffer from nightmares, but Crankcase also gets sleep paralysis, and Krok and Fulcrum have night terrors.

: Krok's insomnia probably wouldn't be as bad as it is, if it weren't for him making it worse by actively choosing not to sleep until absolutely necessary. He hates the fear and confusion of night terrors, and struggles with rumination while trying to sleep. So, he pushes himself until his body almost shuts down for him. This concerns everyone, but particularly Spinister and Fulcrum.

: Spinister sleepwalks and sleeptalks. Sometimes coherently enough none of them can tell that he's actually asleep unless he wakes up mid-sentence or falls over. Mostly he just comes into someone else's room and stands silently over them, before either waking up or wandering off to curl up somewhere not made for sleeping to keep sleeping.

: Misfire just sleeptalks, both quietly and loudly, about any and every topic imaginable. Often incoherently, but sometimes not, other times it's basically a confessional slew of things the others usually silently agree on not bringing up when Misfire's awake again.

: They're all restless, either physically, mentally, or both, and struggle with falling asleep unless utterly exhausted. But once asleep, they each have different ways of sleeping.

: Fulcrum always curls up, which isn't great for his shoddily replaced joints, but it's a hard habit to beat.

: Krok tries to sleep on his side, but usually ends up on his stomach despite how instinctually wrong it feels to leave his back "unguarded".

: Spinister is either splayed out or curled up, rarely any in-between.

: Crankcase usually sleeps like he's in a casket, and often looks the part.

: Misfire shifts and moves so much it's probably a miracle he hasn't pulled or torn his own wings by accident.

-

So, wow, huh, it got long lol. But also I'm tired, so, yeah, that's good enough for now perhaps. Might do more later, since these are like, very basic ones, and it definitely didn't cover much with Flywheels, Grimlock, Nickel, and any others. But I'll get to those later. Probably. Hopefully.

Mostly doing this for myself tho, just to compile a bunch of random notes in one place. But if y'all read this far, cool <3

Also, if you see some and think, hmm, that sounds familiar? Yeah, probably is. Picked up a lot from fics and others ideas, and it all just sorta ended up in my garbled notes to save as inspiration for fics or drawing at some point. So, it's here now too, and that probably goes for any possible future hc posts as well.

If you see any that sound vaguely like yours, or are something you've thought of before, or aren't listed here at all, then I love you, you're brilliant, tell me more of your hcs pls and thank you <333

[black-butler-meta]

Analyzing Book of Circus: Sex, Attraction, and Physical Touch Are Simply Tools for Sebastian

There are two things we know for certain about Sebastian. One, he is a demon, and as such, isn't bound by silly things such as human morals and human standards of right and wrong. Two, he's hot as heck and everyone knows it. This is intentional, of course... it's a key part of his design and a big part of what makes him such a desirable character. It's a theme often found with dark supernatural characters (vampires, demons, werewolves, fae, etc.) and it's that call of temptation, exploration of sex and sexuality, looking taboo in the eye, and following that dark lure of danger that makes such characters so enticing for so many of us.

So, of course we see how this comes up and presents itself throughout Black Butler. Specifically, this post is looking at how Sebastian utilizes his attractiveness as well as physical touch to manipulate those around him.

So, first, let's look at how he seduces Beast and manipulates her to gain information. He manipulates Beast's loneliness and pain combined with her attraction towards him to sleep with her and get the name of "father." It was a few heavily spoken words, promising relief from the ache she felt, and choice hand placements. Gripping her wrist, a hand on her hip. But every moment of that entire scene, from the moment he approaches her to when they are in her tent, was him being calculating and emotionally barren. There was no kissing, hardly any face to face positioning. Even when he first comes onto her, he's behind her, with eye contact at a minimum. The parts that we do see of him touching her during the act are primarily when he's undressing and touching her prosthetic rather than her actual skin. Even the shadows on the wall are only of her and her reaction to what he's doing to her, symbolizing how he's really not "there" with her. He's removed entirely from the exchange, and he talks through the entire thing. It's just another work day for him.

It's not the first or last time that Sebastian uses his attractiveness and sex appeal to manipulate. There are other points throughout the series where it happens as well, and with good reason - his entire characterization is centered around his sex appeal. He's meant to be irresistible, attractive to the point of distraction, possessing an otherworldly beauty and air of mysterious allure that humans are particularly susceptible to. William describes him as much in Book of Circus. He's a predator specifically designed to lure his prey into a false sense of security before striking, and his prey are humans. It doesn't matter their age, gender, sex, or race. Souls are souls, and they are made for devouring.

Which brings us to the PTSD scene where Ciel is having a full on panic attack/mental breakdown, drool and all. Sebastian is very close to him, grinning like the cat that caught the canary, and the entire vibe of it is uncomfortable due to how close and intimate it feels, all while Ciel is suffering and Sebastian is looking and nefariously seductive. Every action and angle of him in that scene is sensual and intimate (his finger swiping Ciel's lip, untying Ciel's eyepatch, etc.), while Ciel is obviously not. His eyes are closed, his face contorted in misery, drool/vomit down his chin… this moment is about his suffering. In fact, he hardly registers the way Sebastian is touching him, which makes this scene verge on noncon; after all, how would Ciel react to having his lips touched if he wasn't in the middle of a panic attack? It's this crossroad of Sebastian's predatory sex appeal and Ciel's trauma that makes this scene so uncomfortable. This is exacerbated even more so by the fact that Ciel is a child which is made even more obvious during this scene. Ciel is having flashbacks of his trauma from years prior, when he was younger and smaller, and he is pleading for Sebastian in the way a child may call for their parent during a nightmare. Ciel in that moment wasn't "13 year old going on 30" as he often portrays himself. He was a small little boy, once again trapped in his cage.

Meanwhile, Sebastian is simply relishing in Ciel's suffering and seizes the opportunity to change the power dynamic between them. Ciel may be his master, but Sebastian is the one pulling the strings in this moment. Sebastian's gentle, his voice is smooth, his touch is soothing. He holds his outstretched hand, wrapping his arms around him. He fills up Ciel's vision, making him focus on the demon's physical presence rather than the horror that's unfolding. And Ciel allows it, even the touching of his lips, unaware of the boundary it's crossing because he's literally in the middle of a panic attack and needs to be saved. It's manipulation, plain and simple; Sebastian is fostering codependency as a tool to further corrupt the soul he will eventually get to devour. He's using this close proximity and intimate contact to push Ciel to call on his demon and slaughter everyone. Sebastian may be the sword, but Ciel is the hand, and in the end, this act of violence falls on him. In the end, it's his soul that suffers, which is just how Sebastian wants it to be.

Even the touch of Ciel's lips is a predatory one; it may seem to drip with sexually charged energy, especially since the lips are an erogenous zone (imagine if he did that to an adult… tell me that wouldn't immediately seem sexual); however, this sexual presence is largely in part to that just being a part of Who Sebastian Is. As stated before, that allure is a part of his design as a hunter, so of course it will be the strongest/most noticeable when occurring in the presence of human weakness.

The way he draws his thumb along his lip is like checking the ripeness of fruit. The way he stares down at him is like a chef checking a pot of stew simmering on the stove. It's almost as if he can smell the corruption brewing through Ciel's open mouth. (Also, I'd bet money that the soul is "removed" from the body through the mouth, as this was also implied at the end of season 1, even though that episode wasn’t technically canon). This doesn't really surprise me, because creatures of the night devouring their victims through physically intimate situations is a pretty common theme (e.g., vampires biting necks/thighs). It all ties into Sebastian's dark nature. Once again, it's intended to be uncomfortable.

And once he gets Sebastian's permission, the discomfort of the scene immediately ends, Sebastian’s predatory sex appeal is muted (but still present - always present). Ciel is carried in Sebastian's arms like a child being carried off to bed while Sebastian slaughters everyone. Sebastian's manipulation worked; his food gave into the rage and Sebastian gets to kill for him, thus bringing him closer to completing his contract.

Contrast this with the times when Sebastian is not trying to manipulate Ciel, and his touches are far more tame and appropriate. Wiping the water off of Ciel’s body, feeling his forehead for a fever, etc. It’s usually when he’s fulfilling his butler duties, or when Ciel’s life is in danger, that he almost forgets his predatory nature and behaves almost normally. Perhaps it’s through these gentler, everyday interactions that helps Sebastian gradually grow an attachment to his young master. He still sees him as food, but less predator/prey and more farmer and his livestock, a steward for a broken soul until it’s ready for slaughter. But I feel like if there’s any chance of Sebastian growing beyond his demon nature, it’ll be through these mundane but meaningful moments.

[eponastory]

Sometimes. Maybe, It's Okay. Chapter 1

James 'Bucky' Barnes finds it difficult to adjust to civilian life. People either think he's an Avenger or he's still a killer, making it hard for him to figure out who he is exactly. His therapist? She's not helpful at all because she pushes his buttons. He's supposed to move on, but how can he when nightmares and flashbacks have him sleeping on the floor? He isn't sure he is living like he should be. His apartment is an empty Hell that he thinks he needs to suffer in.

Until he meets Claire. His neighbor across the hall who plays the cello every day, has two guinea pigs, and cooks amazing food. On top of that, she doesn't care if he was an assassin who was involuntarily used to shape the world by a criminal organization. All she cares about is giving him a place to run away from those demons in his closet. It just happens to be more than that.

Chapter Summary: Bucky adjusts to life after the Blip and discovers his therapist is not exactly the best.

Pairings: Bucky x OFC

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3k+

He didn't have much to his name, just the clothes on his back and the things he had on him when he was arrested. If it weren't for the president, he'd still be in prison, though there were several conditions to his pardon. One of them was therapy. 

Sessions started on Tuesday with a Dr. Raynor, who appeared to be the tough love type. He was not interested in divulging anything to someone he didn't know, especially someone who was supposed to report on his progress. Yet, with that in mind, sixty days in prison went by faster that he cared to admit. He was technically a free man to do what he wanted, even though he was practically homeless at the moment. 

Not a problem, he had been awarded the biggest back pay in military history for his time as a POW in Hydra. Not to mention the other benefits he was supposed to get, like Tricare and any loan he needed. The problem was, he really didn't know what to do with all of that. Bucky considered himself a simple man, so what did he need? 

For starters, Sam could stop calling him every day. That would be a plus. He could block Sam’s number, but he liked answering the phone long enough for the man to say something and then hang up. That was entertaining and satisfying all in one go. It was all Steve’s fault though. 

“It's gonna be okay, Buck.” 

It sure as Hell wasn't when less than twenty-four hours after Steve handed over the shield, the FBI showed up and hauled Bucky off. He didn't resist. It was stupid to try, especially since they all knew what he did in the past. He knew it too, which is why he went along like a good citizen. Fifteen days of testimony and then another five for jury deliberation had him on the proverbial chopping block until the President stepped in. He didn't like the guy, but he could respect someone willing to see past all the brainwashing. 

So what now? 

He sits outside a Cafe in Brooklyn with a newspaper and a pen circling the potential places he could afford rent on. Technically he had enough to buy a place, but he lived his life before the war being frugal, so he intended to keep it that way. He really didn't need much. To be fair, growing up in the 20’s and 30’s taught him about living on nothing because of the Depression, followed by the war. Still, living simple was a blessing in disguise and he was pretty good at it. 

It's when a nice young lady bring him the coffee he ordered a few minutes before that he realizes there are people staring at him. She doesn't seem to be bothered by him when she sets the cup and plate down on the cast iron table, but it's the others around him that whisper. That’s fine, they can whisper. He doesn't really care at this point because his face has been all over the news for almost three months. He wears gloves to keep his arm out of sight, not because it makes people uncomfortable, but because he is insecure about it. He doesn't want the attention. 

“I'm sorry about the wait.” The waitress says to him as she tucks a platinum lock behind her ear. “There was a problem with the machine.” 

“It's fine.” He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out his wallet. It's not much, just a thin bi-fold he picked up at a store. “How much do I owe?” 

“It's on the house.” She says nervously. “You're an Avenger.” Not really, but if everyone wants to think he is, he’s not going to correct them. “I'm here because of you.” 

That statement sort of takes the wind out of him because his part in all of it is minor compared to Stark’s. He only shot at monsters and found himself eating dirt half the time. There was definitely a little more trauma from that fight too. 

“I really didn't do much of anything.” Most forget he had been turned to dust too. He can't smile at her or give her anything more than a polite nod after she accepts the tip he gives her. He watches her walk back inside the Cafe, ignoring the other patrons around him. 

He isn't in a good place. 

Figuratively and literally. 

“So what are you going to do? Return the stones and then go have the picket fence life that everyone dreams about?” He's upset. He shouldn't be, but he is. He can't help but to stare out at the lake in front of them as they sit on the only bench left on the property. 

“Bucky, what’s so wrong with that?” Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He probably doesn't realize what his absence is going to do. 

“I get it. Better than anyone else you know, but what about everyone you leave behind? Who is going to pick up the shield, Steve, because it isn't going to be me and you know that.” He knows that he isn't the right person for the role. There is too much damage. 

“Sam.” Steve says with every bit of assurance in his voice. “It has to be Sam.” 

“You want Sam to take up the shield?” Somehow, Bucky isn't surprised by this and he honestly can't disagree. He isn't angry about it, not like he should be. “He’s a good man, Steve. I don't like him, but he is a good person if he went into this because of you.” He remembers his fight with Sam on the helicarrier before he went on the run. “He stuck his neck out for me when he didn't have to.” 

“Isn't that all that matters, Buck? Someone who will have your back?” Steve puts a hand on his shoulder. 

“I feel a promise coming on.” He mutters out with a scoff. “Please don't make me promise to look after his ass.” 

“Nah, I wouldn't do that.” The smile on Steve’s face says otherwise. “Not when you need to look out for yourself.” 

“Well, I can't promise to do that either.” He chuckles. “But I'll try.” 

“Here.” Steve pulls out a small brown notebook from inside his jacket. “A list of all the things you need to catch up on.” He holds it out to Bucky, who looks down at it as if it's something he shouldn't touch. “I'm pretty sure you'll add more to it.” 

Bucky takes it in his hands. “I think there is another list to put in here, actually.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Cap tells him. “That's why you need it more than I do.” 

He’s got his hand over the inside pocket of his leather jacket where that book sits. He's not angry at Steve for wanting a life, he's angry because he was left with so many pieces to pick up from him. From all of them really. He had hoped he could give Stark some kind of apology, to give closure to the man that sacrificed himself for everyone, but that didn't happen. Now he had another name he could never cross off. 

“Look… it's the Winter Soldier.” A little girl's voice pulls him from his thoughts and he sees her sitting two tables away with her mother. “He isn't so scary.” He’s not. At least he isn't now. Children were safe from him now that he had control over himself, but that didn't mean he hadn't done some awful things in the past. “Can I go say hi?” Her innocence is refreshing and she seems excited to see him there.  

“No, baby, it's probably best to leave him alone.” Her mother says as she reaches over the table to wipe something from the blond girl's cheek. “He’s probably going through a lot right now.” The brunette woman looks at him with caution written on her face.

He decides it's time to leave the Cafe now. He finished his coffee and has found a couple of promising places in the classifieds so moving on was probably for the best. Standing up, he folded up the newspaper, sticking it under his arm before shoving in his jacket pockets and walking down the streets. Brooklyn changed quite a bit since his last walk down the strip. The old shops he used to know were now places where people brought their cell phones for repair or new eateries that didn't make the mark. There was even a smoke shop that he remembered being a clothing store back in the day. 

He remembered there had been a really good Italian restaurant and an Irish pub too. Maybe it was still there after all this time. He remembers his mother dragging him and his sisters to church every Sunday saying that they had to get right so life would be plentiful. If only she'd have known back then that her son would end up being lost to time in a way. She must have broken when she learned he died, or didn't really die even though he pretty much did. 

It wasn't a picnic in the park for sure.

But things had changed. Bucky didn’t know if that was a good thing just yet because he was practically alone and he had a lot of work he needed to do. Work being figurative. He needed to find peace, like he did during his time farming in Wakanda. Except finding that in Brooklyn was complicated to say the least. He never thought he'd go back home again, but here he was, walking down the sidewalk like it was still 1942. 

Okay, maybe it wasn't, but the fact still remained that he missed home more than he thought he did. Except home was a little busier and louder than he remembers. He could get used to it as long as he didn't have to deal with anyone or worry about someone getting into his business. Sometimes that caused a few problems he didn't know how to handle just yet. 

After making a few calls, he was able to set up a viewing or two of a couple apartments close to the main part of town. After talking to the landlords, he was able to confirm that both units were vacant and ready to move in as soon as possible, which was perfect. The sooner he had a roof over his head, the better because staying in a hotel downtown was absolutely eating up his cash. He still had to find a way to get around without getting on the train or taking a bus. Too many people in an enclosed space caused some problems. 

The first apartment he looked at was pretty much a studio setup. There was a bathroom, a large open space, and the kitchen all in one. While he didn't have an issue with a studio, it was too big. Too much space to fill up and he was not going to spend money on a lot of furniture he really didn't need. He politely declined in the Brooklyn way before moving on to the next place which was more like what he was hoping for. 

“It's been empty for a while. The last guy to rent it went to jail so it's been sitting since we hauled everything out two months ago. Before that, there was a couple living there, but they got dusted.” The landlord, Malcom, said as he led Bucky up the flight of stairs going to the second floor. He was a tall, skinny guy with a receding hairline and a heavy New Yorker accent. “My tenants are all really nice people. The ones on this floor kinda banded together to take care of each other during the Blip, so expect them to be a little welcoming. They're good people though… best tenants a guy could ask for.” He waves his hands around as he talks while they crest the top of the stairs. Bucky isn't sure if he likes the idea of neighbors knocking on his door all the time. “Oh and the elevator is out for the next three weeks. The repair guy had to order a part for it and what do ya know the damn thing is on backorder.” 

“Don't worry, when I grew up, our elevator didn't exist.” Bucky half smiled as Malcom opened the door for him. 

“That's rough.” 

The building had been around since the 1890's for sure, especially since Bucky could see the original dark stained hardwood flooring was in good shape. Despite it being scuffed up. On the far end of the corridor was a window that faced the street while four doors lined the hallway painted a dark red. It looked more like a hotel than an apartment building, but he remembers this place well enough. Back in the 30's it was one of the places that most of the big spenders lived. 

“Yeah, so 5B is down there at the end on the right.” Malcom is pulling the keys out of his pocket as they move to the door with the brass hardware. “We had the units renovated in 2014 with all new plumbing and electricity after the fire marshal said it was a safety hazard. All the appliances are in great condition, although I think the dishwasher in this unit is a little fritzy, but it still works.” He unlocks the door, opening it for Bucky to go inside and check it out for himself. “You've got a balcony with a fire escape, bathroom connected to the bedroom, and a stacked washer with a dryer. Courtesy of the couple that was dusted.” 

It was actually nice. The kitchen is small, but Bucky doesn't plan on cooking for more than just himself. The door leading out to the balcony actually made him feel like he had an escape route if something happened. Honestly, he felt fine with the place. 

“I'll take it.” 

“Tell me about last week.” 

He really isn't keen on paying attention to Dr. Raynor when she asks him questions. It's been two weeks since he started sessions with the most cynical therapist the people in charge  could find. It's not that Bucky doesn't like her, it's that he doesn't exactly care for any of it. He hates the big windows in her office because they let in too much light. The couch he sits on is not that comfortable, and he is pretty sure the mural of a peaceful forest is supposed to be where he can see it. It's ass backwards and he doesn't see the point of getting to the bottom of his problems. 

“What is there to tell?” Bucky doesn't want to say it. “I moved into my new place and I'm doing good.” Good may be an overstatement because the first night alone brought up some pretty intense memories. 

“What about your neighbors?” Its almost like she is trying to read his mind by looking down the scope of a 30-6 high powered rifle. It feels invasive and it's making him squirm internally. “Have you met them yet?” 

“Not really.” He's seen the old veteran that lives on the other end of the hall and the single mother with her son as they brought in groceries. Other than that, he hadn't really talked to any of them. “I don't really want to.” Meeting them would give them the idea that he was inclined to associate, and he really wasn't. 

“You'll have to talk to them at some point, James.” Not if he could help it. He could stay holed up in his apartment until someone breaks down the door and tries to drag him out. He's all kinds of antisocial. “It will not hurt you to forge some kind of relationship with someone, and I'm not including myself in this.” 

“I have a relationship with Sam.” As in a strange sort of love/hate type of thing that annoys him, not something to brag about really. “I don't really like him, but I have to put up with him.” 

“I suppose that is a start.” He rolls his eyes at the doctor that is pulling things out of her ass at this point. “Moving on, what do you think you need to work on the most?” 

Bucky knows what he needs to do. He's known it since Steve handed him that notebook and when he started writing down names in it. Names that could be the key to his nightmares fading away once he made amends. If he could make amends that is. Some of the names were… crossed off before he could do anything.  

“I want to…” he swallows, “right some wrongs.” It's hard for him to say because he doesn't trust Dr. Raynor. Not yet at least. His mind is still messed up and his trust levels are very low. “Steve said I could do that if I wanted it bad enough.” He reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls the book out. “I have the names, I just… don't know what to do about it.” 

“Do you think crossing them off will make you feel different?” It's an honest question that makes him sit in silence for a moment. 

He's not sure. He wants that to be the case. Every name is one less nightmare for him to see at night if he can find these people. Most of them are people who he had helped hurt others. The ones that didn't hurt anyone were going to be the hardest ones and he wasn't sure if he could do it. 

“I don't know.” He licks his lips. “Maybe.” 

“Let's set some ground rules if you are going to start crossing off those names.” Dr. Raynor opens her notebook and begins to write. “Rule one. Don't do anything illegal.” 

“Wasn't planning on it.” He states rolling his eyes. 

“Rule two. Don't hurt anyone.” He leans his head back against the couch and sighs at her second rule. “And rule three…” He half listens to her when she states his name. “I'm no longer the Winter Soldier and your part of my efforts to make amends.” 

He hates it already, but he agrees because he knows it's the right thing to do. Bucky knows it's engraved into his soul to do the right thing, but it was unfortunately something he couldn't do for the longest time. The right thing didn't exist. His morality had been erased along with the goodness he had slowly reclaimed. It took years to get it back, but only a few words to start that avalanche. 

“I'm with you til the end of the line.” 

Steve saved him, again. 

He's walking through the second floor hallway when he hears a woman talking on the phone. It's not really a surprise to see one of his new neighbors standing in the hallway on the phone as they try to open their door. But he sees her standing there trying to fiddle with her keys while holding her phone between her cheek and shoulder. The other part of this is that it's the neighbor across from him who he had never met. 

“Yeah I know.” She's speaking loudly until her keys drop from her fingers landing heavily on the floor with a thud. “Shit!” Bucky has half a thought to go up to her and pick up her keys for her, but she does it herself. “No, I just dropped my keys like an idiot.” She sighs before running her hand through her balayage locks. “It's been a long day at work and I need a shower.” 

The former assassin thinks it's best if he just sneaks by her to his door instead of being caught. He puts his skills to work in being silent as he crosses the wide corridor to his apartment without catching her attention. 

“Yeah, I love you too.” He's just made it to his door when she hangs up her phone. It's only the one squeaky floorboard just outside his door that gives him away. Fuck. 

Bucky watches as she turns to face him, seeing him standing there like he's been caught trying to break into his own place. She puts her phone inside her coat pocket as she eyes him with her blue orbs then raises an eyebrow. It could be worse. As a matter of fact, he was an idiot to think he could get away from this confrontation now, so he clears his throat to say something. 

She beats him to it. 

“You must be my new neighbor.” A smile spreads across her face as she looks him up and down. 

“Uh… yeah.” He can't help but feel put on the spot and he doesn't like it one bit. Licking his lips he pulls out his keys from his pocket and finds himself fiddling with thim. “Just moved in last week.” 

“I know. Maxine told me.” She says. “She's in 3B with her son. She said she saw you the other day.” This is getting really uncomfortable as she gazes into his soul. “I'm Claire, by the way.” She walks up to him and holds her hand out. The first thing he notices is the rings on her fingers and her purple nail polish. 

“James.” Bucky gives her the name he goes by to those he isn't close to as he clasps her hand in his right one. He can feel how strong her grip is in his leather clad grasp. “I didn't want to bother you while you were on the phone.” 

“Its fine. I was in my own little world.” She lets go of his hand. “The floors in this building are like an alarm.” 

“Yeah, I can tell.” He half smiles as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. 

“Well, I'll let you go.” She takes a step backwards. “It was nice to finally meet you, James.” She gives him a half wave before turning around to her door. 

“Yeah, nice meeting you too.” Maybe. She could be one of those neighbors that will bug him all the time. 

She was pretty though. 

Really pretty. 

Bucky shook his head. He didn't need to be thinking about women, even though talking to one did feel pretty good. He thinks about it as he unlocks his door and walks into his very bare apartment that most women would see as a red flag. He didn't even have a bed because a mattress felt like he was sinking into a marshmallow and it was going to swallow him up. The whole time he was in Wakanda, he slept on a pile of layered rugs that were firm to the touch. Before that, it was the floor or a really firm mattress. He had a couch, but he preferred the floor. 

Any smart woman would run away. 

He is pretty sure that Claire was very smart, but she was his neighbor. Unfortunately, they were bound to cross paths at some point. He can't entirely avoid people like Doc said. It wasn't like the interaction with… Claire? Yes, that was her name, was that bad. Actually, he felt pretty calm about the whole interaction because it was just the two of them. He felt on the spot at first, but when she started talking first, his nerves disappeared. 

He ran his right hand over his face as he leaned up against the door. He used to be a totally different person before Hydra got into his head, now he was a fucking mess. The shitshow in his head was proof of that because it took him a long time to figure out what memories were real and which ones he conjured up in his head to cope with the brainwashing. 

Sometimes he had these memories of dancing with a couple of girls in the 40's and then it always ended up in something a little more like skin to skin. There was usually some kind of drinking and the smell of cigarettes clinging to him when he went back home. His mother slapping him on the back of the head for coming home at the crack of dawn. That was before the Army. Then he remembers Steve shaking his head at the amount of times some girl would beg him for a light. He wasn't one of those ‘tough’ guys, but he was a charmer. He used to love sweeping the ladies up for a dance, bringing them onto the dance floor at the clubs and spinning them around was his second favorite pass time. 

“Hey Doll.” He sees her staring at him from the table in the corner. The lights are low while the band plays on the stage. Hours earlier his life changed for the worst. He sits next to her in the booth, because he knows she's been sitting there alone since the asshole she came with found another girl. “You look lonely over here in the dark.” 

“It's not so bad.” She says before digging through her clutch for a cigarette. “Sometimes a girl just wants to look lonely.” She puts the but to her lips as he pulls out his lighter and flicks it on. “It brings in all the nice fellas.” She leans forward to light up that wonderful roll of tobacco. 

“How do you know I'm nice?” Bucky smiles like the charmer he is. “I could be like your guy over there feeling that girl up.” 

“You're not. I can tell.” Her ruby red lipstick makes her brown eyes pop. “You've got a hungry look, but behind those baby blues, you just want to be loved.” She puts a hand on his cheek. “You can't hurt a girl to save your life.” 

She's a hundred percent correct on that, but he doesn't let her know it. He's never met a woman like this so he doesn't know how to feel. She looks young, but the crows feet in the corner of her eyes say she is definitely older. She's probably a decade older. He doesn't care, she's beautiful and independent. It's so attractive and he can't help but to stare at her for a moment as she hands over her cigarette. 

“They've called in your card, didn't they?” She's perceptive as he takes the drag and settles it to his lips before pulling in the sweet nicotine. “Most of the boys here are going.” 

“Yep.” He exhales the smoke from his lungs before handing it back to her. She's wearing dark blue, but in the light, it looks almost black. “I leave Wednesday.” She nods taking another drag then tapping the ashed into the tray on the table. 

“Most people don't know, but you'll go there like you are now…” she picks up her drink with a sad smile, “you won't come back the same.” He's not sure if his heart has plummeted to his stomach or if that was the drink he had earlier, but her words seem so final. 

Suddenly he is terrified. 

It's much more terrifying than Dot telling him that she thinks she may be pregnant. She wasn't, but it scared him to death. Not that he wouldn't do the right thing by her, it was just being a parent scared him. He was good with kids, he liked them a lot, but he wasn't ready for that yet. War seemed so much easier than raising kids. 

Going to war didn't seem so scary before he walked into the club, he saw the honor in it. Now that he sat down in the booth with this beautiful brunette, he was terrified. She made it terrifying by saying the truth because he didn't want to change. 

“I'll be honest with you, Sweetheart.” She rubs her thumb on his cheek. “You are a good man for serving this country, I adore that, but after tonight you won't want to dance like you did before.” 

Thinking about it then, Bucky had no idea what she said would be a hundred percent right. Now in hindsight, it was like she predicted his future and left it in the hands of fate. He never did catch her name before she sashayed out of the club into the night alone. All of his friends from that era were gone, so he couldn't ask them if she was a real person or something his brain cooked up. It felt real though. Right down to the way his shirt collar seemed to tighten up when she spoke about changing. 

Bucky almost wants to collapse because he has never felt as alone as he does now. He's never felt so different. He is trying to find himself and at least now he doesn't have to worry about someone else trying to take that from him. He can't help but to slide down the door onto the floor because even though he has a direction to move, he can't see the end of the tunnel. That proverbial light is too far away and he has to slog through the bodies he laid out over eighty years. He doesn't think he can get there, but he wants to try. 

His Hell is in this apartment. 

Master List Chapter 2

[nanomooselet]

Wraith VI

Have you ever noticed how much of Trigun Stampede involves sleeping and dreams?

The intro song describes a waking nightmare, an endless night without a dawn. Vash spends a number of his scenes asleep or dozing while other characters discuss him or events relating to him. Episodes 8 and 9 are largely taken up by a flashback presented in the form of a dream Vash is having. Knives creates a dream to trap his brother, and both Meryl and Knives entreat Vash to "Wake up!" - Meryl from the trap, Knives from what he calls a delusion of love. And there's Rem, of course; a woman who might as well be a dream for the brief yet profound impact her life had on those she knew - especially Vash.

And then there's the lyrics of Knives's theme.

Can we breathe the same way together? All the lives are part of me Wished we could stay here forever All of the stars are falling down Remember how We used to be? Don't turn it back Stars falling down

Does it count as wishing on a falling star if you're the reason the stars are falling?

Knives does not sleep, so there are few ways for him to realise his dream: create a prophecy for his cult, pick imagery from the Bible, proclaim he's creating a paradise. And for all that he describes it in such grandiose terms, there's no more to it than making things stay the way they were before. Knives is the one who lingers in the shell of Ship Five, playing the tune he learned alongside Vash, remembering both Vash and himself as the children they used to be. Knives has a dream, too, and it is one of never growing up, forever remaining in the last place he felt safe. To want otherwise, he thinks, is to be corrupted and afflicted by what lies beyond.

Perhaps Knives's fear of a repeat of Tesla is less than his fear of losing Vash - not to death at the hands of humanity, but to their love. I don't think Knives can stand the idea that Vash could love, could be loved by someone besides himself. I don't think he believes it possible unless Vash ceased to love his brother. The irony of that, of course, is that it isn't a brother Knives loves, but the dream. Vash is integral to creating paradise because Vash is an indelible feature of the past, but the boy he was then is long gone, or perhaps never existed. Has there ever been any such thing as a Vash who never loved his mother? Who always agreed with his brother?

It's childish solipsism, a lack of awareness that those who don't share Knives's point of view might have thoughts and emotions and alternative solutions. It's a world made of cobwebs and fairy dust. It cannot truly exist. The only way it could would be by leaving Vash to sleep forever, frozen in time alongside Tesla, already suffering as a gruesome Snow White, and despite what he said to Roberto at the series beginning, Vash himself is too much a fighter for that. He knows that there's a world beyond the safety of the shell. It's a hard one, but what is that if not a reason to wake up? People of that world need his help, and he needs them, the same way he needs his memory of Rem.

Now Knives's dream is at an end, and his fear is realised. Though Vash-as-Eriks is more vulnerable than he's ever been, he's taken care of in the wake of July by people who want and need nothing from him.

Even without memory of himself, Vash fights - cries out for help.

In the show's final moments, we know that cry is heard.

The bird fights it way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world.

However heavy the cost - as terrible as it is to destroy a world - it did not end in vain.

[verdemoun]

Do Sean or Kieran or anyone get like flashbacks from being in reform school or the army if someone like, yells at them or something? If so, how would they, and the other gang members react? (Sorry, it’s a stupid question-)

they proceeded to trigger each other on a regular basis.

the whole gang has ptsd. obviously. and for a lot of them, modern era was the first time they could address it. which meant. digging up a lot of stuff they thought they were over. sean and kieran in particular are dealing with a lot, but in polar opposite directions.

sean didn't go through horsemen, apocalypse. as a result, he still tends to call kieran o'driscoll. hearing o'driscoll in general puts kieran is a sub-par headspace, but with that irish twang pronounciation kieran is fucked. the first dozen of times kieran would hyperventilate so bad he would faint.

and sean takes years to unlearn the behaviour, despite only having known kieran a few months in canon era. it is not uncommon to hear 'hey o'drisc- SHIT KIERAN SORRY SORRY FUCK SORRY I MEANT KIERAN' and kieran is trying to force himself to take deep breath with tears in his eyes giving sean an awkward thumbs up he knows it was an accident

kieran's biggest trauma is being taken by the o'driscolls. war was hell, obviously, but the absolute torture he suffered at the hands of the o'driscolls both before and after the vdls. he 1. regularly wakes up screaming from nightmares and 2. often goes outside in the middle of the night for fresh air after a nightmare.

you know where else people let out blood curdling screams in the middle of the night? children being abused at reform school! you know who else slams doors at midnight? british agents breaking in to murder your da!

poor lenny wakes up to the door slamming and knows kieran is having a bad night, which he feels awful about as one of the people who didn't notice and did nothing about kieran being taken in canon era, but also sean uncontrollably sobbing because all that terror and grief from his childhood was dragged straight to the forefront of his mind and at no point in his life was he ever allowed to just cry about how much he went through.

it gets significantly easier after arthur timewarps in a way, because arthur will almost always be the first to go check on kieran when he's having a bad night. which means lenny can focus on trying to get sean to process his feelings instead of just burying it again only to have a worse response the next time he's triggered by sounds in the night or reminders like news articles or a thick irish accent or a boy playing with his father (sometimes he sees isaac and arthur playing and just needs to walk away because fuck losing his da messed him up)

arthur is also the only one who kieran has actually told in detail what happened to him after he was taken from shady belle. this proceeded to become a vicarious trauma for arthur himself. while the nightmares never go away completely - in his waking hours kieran is a gremlin of dark humor and learns to cope pretty well. this means accidentally sending arthur into a thousand yard stare when he jokingly signs 'don't lose your head'

also regularly causing each other to have flashbacks/panic attacks does not stop kieran and sean being long-lost irish brothers. sean will make sure kieran gets his extra ketchup or mashed potato instead of fries or correct new timewarpers who dare call him o'driscoll. kieran will actively listening to sean's stories about his da with stars in his eyes and let sean vent about things that happened without a horrified reaction which sean finds a lot more helpful than talking about reform school only to need to comfort lenny instead.

[andreanlee]

Annette’s character & Richter’s character and Richter & Annette as an official romantic couple(lovers) in Castlevania Nocturne:

People who want to bash Annette’s character & saying her & Richter should not be together show they don’t understand anything about her as a character & was not paying attention to Season 1 of Castlevania Nocturne because there was all kinds of hints that Richter was developing romantic feelings for Annette. We even get confirmation in Season 2 Episode 8 that Richter fell in love with Annette in Season 1 Episode 1 after she saved him from the night creature, also while Richter and Annette are all by themselves talking in the attic & sitting on the bed together & in this same moment Annette fell in love with Richter at hearing him confess his conviction as a Belmont by protecting the people he loves(Annette, Tara, & Maria), also Richter awakened his magic in Season 1 Episode 6 from wanting to protect the people he loves & Annette was one of the people he loves & wants to protect(along with Tara & Maria).

Annette was born into slavery(on the island of Saint Domingue) & lived like that for 16 years of her life, at 6 or 7 she witnessed her mother be murdered in front of her by her vampire slave master, she had no magic to protect herself till at 16 years when her divine magic awakened to protect her from being branded, then she runs for her life with dogs & vampires(one of them being Vaublanc her slave master) on horse back chasing her down till she makes it to town & hides, Edouard finds Annette hiding & scared to death yet Annette is still stuck on the same island(Saint Domingue) as her ex-vampire slave master(Vaublanc) where she hides with the Maroons in the mountains for 3 years of her life till they have a uprising against all the white slave owners & vampire slave owners on Saint Domingue & she try’s to kill Vaublanc(her ex-vampire slave master) but he escaped, then she finds out about about Erzsebet & has to travel to France to find Richter(who her teacher told her to find) to defeat Erzsebet at age 19 & she suffered from anger issues from the trauma she suffered.

Note: Annette confirmed in Season 1 Episode 3 how she suffered from fear from the trauma she suffered while living in the forest with the Maroons for three years when she stated “Cecile was the high priestess. She taught me spells. How to open spiritual crossroads for ceremonies. How to quieten my fear so that I could hear Ogun clearly.” Annette’s fear is understandable because of the trauma she suffered from the 16 years of her past life and with her vampire slave master(Vaublanc) still being on the same island as her & she did not know if they(her & the other Maroon) would get caught at some point.

Annette’s anger issues are completely understandable from the trauma she suffered & she finally overcomes her anger in episode 6 Season 1, & in episode 7 season 1 she & Richter make up & understand each other.

Annette is a great layered character with depth & thank God she is not a Sypha 2.0 & is instead her own character!

Richter he lived a happy life for 10 years of his life with his mother & already known how to use magic till he witnessed her be murdered in front of him(this causing him to loose his magic from a mental block) & then after Olrox lets him go he has to leave the United States(and away from Olrox the vampire who murdered his mother in front of him) on a ship to by himself for weeks & go live in France with two people(Tara & Maria) he has never even met before, but he gets know them & lives 9 years in their home & has a great life but he still suffers from flashbacks & nightmares(from the trauma he suffered) at age 19.

Both Richter & Annette had to overcome their trauma in season 1 & we see them overcome their issues in episode 6.

They are a perfect couple because of the things they suffered & overcame, they also understand each other the most.

Both Richter & Annette parallel each other in certain ways & juxtaposes each other in certain ways.

They are also both worrier mages, both using their magic in combat with Annette using magic to create her weapons(from her being a descendent of Ogun of her father’s side) to fight, and Richter using his magic in hand to hand combat & with his whip along with creating throwing knives from ice.

Richter’s & Annette’s romantic development into an official romantic couple(lovers) was beautifully done! In Season 2 you can see how much they both love each other by everything that was shown from Episode 1(the beginning) to Episode 8(the ending) & anyone who denies it is ignorant. Richter confessed his love and feelings to Annette(while she is in the Spiritual Realm and could hear every word he said) when he said “Annette. Annette. Annette! You are so strong. From the moment I first saw you, I knew you were strong. You saved my life from a night creature. I have never seen night creatures before, and it had beaten me. I was a dead man and you killed it. Maria called me an ungrateful wanker, and, as usual, she was right. I was embarrassed. What an idiot. But now, I can’t imagine the world without you, Annette. Any of it. Not hearing your voice, not seeing you roll your eyes at me, not waking up to know that, whatever happens, somewhere, you are there. Please. Don’t leave me. Please.” And after this Richter went past his limits to protect Annette from Drolta(who was blood-lusted to kill Annette from her being a vessel for Sekhmet’s 3rd soul & took away the other 2 souls of Sekhmet from Drolta) because of how much Richter truly loves Annette because she is precious to him!!!

In Season 2 Episode 8 Annette said “Thank you for guiding me home.” & Richter said “That was my job. My job was to make sure you got back.” Richter is Annette’s protector and home, Annette has shown that she does feel safe & protected around Richter even before she goes into the spiritual realm when in Season 2 Episode 2 Annette grabs Richter’s for support & protection when she got afraid at seeing that spirit, also Annette allows herself to be vulnerable with Richter & it all shows that she feels safe & protected with Richter.

Richter loves Annette so much that his voice and magic reach into the Egyptian Spiritual Realm giving an exhausted Annette(who could both see his magic and hear his voice) the drive to continue fighting and even defeat’s Ammit(The Devourer Of Souls)because she wasn’t alone because Richter was there with her but not in a physical way and it shows how much Annette truly loves Richter, and Richter guided Annette’s spirit back home to her body.

There is even confirmation from Samuel Deats that Richter loves Annette.

I was so happy to see both Richter & Annette get the happy ending they both deserved!!!

And that Netflix did not listen to the racists!!!