#because so far there is no mention of mental illness in my file at my family doctor's office despite mentioning the ADs

[tardis--dreams]

I wish i could get buproprion without a prescription this shit is way too good to give up ㅠㅠ

[oval3000]

Chapter 5

Yandere Teacher Nanami x Student Reader

Warning: Abuse, (force) smut. Abduction, violence, rough play, toxic behavior, age gap, everything from all above. Mainly from his point of view...somewhat... modern au- ish idk. College teacher x student.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

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

"Mr. Nanami?" A man in a suit knocked on his classroom door. Nanami was grading some paperwork before his next class. He turned to the side and saw the man alongside some police officers." I hope we're not interrupting you? I'm detective Aki, this is officer Yamada and officer Fujikawa. We want to ask questions about one of your students, (Y/N)."

"Sir." Nanami stood as the man and two police officers entered, closing the door. Nanami knew this day would come. How could he not know? "Of course. Miss (Y/n) hasn't attended my classes for the past month.

"That's why we're here. Her friend had filed a missing person's report on her and we just want to know if you may know anything regarding her disappearance." The detective said.

"The last time I saw her, was when she was sitting on one of the campus benches. I asked her if everything was alright and she told me she was waiting for her ride." He explained. " She seemed a little down and mentioned something about an ex-boyfriend. I've dealt with many of my students who were dealing with hard breakups so I didn't think too much of it."

"Ex-boyfriend?" The detective said.

"Yes. I don't know his name it was never said, but she did mention an ex-boyfriend and by the look of it, it's not something she seemed happy about." Nanami looked at the detective as he jotted down what he was saying.

"Was she acting strange while attending your classes before her disappearance? Did she seem a little down?" Aki asked.

"No. She was a normal student. In fact, she was my best student. Although she had trouble with one assignment, she would stay after her classes for help. Other than that, she was fine. However, I am a teacher with many students, so I might've not pay too much attention to her because of the others, who might be in the same position as her. College is college. Nothing changes." Nanami fixed his glasses and sighed. "Her family must be worried sick if she hasn't shown up." Nanami asked, almost looking a bit sad.

Aki raised his eyebrow. "Have you noticed her disappearance?"

"I did at first. She never missed a class ever. Then again. I have many students who don't bother showing up for months."

"Why is that?" He asked.

"They want to give up. Math is too hard. Struggling with mental illness. I've been working here for ten years, I've seen at all." Nanami sighed, looking down at his papers. "Sadly, no matter what I do, I can't always fix their problems when it's out of my reach. I should've asked Miss. (Y/N), about what was bothering her that day. That was my mistake."

Aki looked at Nanami, who still kept a normal composer. "So her disappearance wasn't too strange for you?"

"Like I said, at first it did. Then again, it's not the first time a student stopped showing up here. I guess I was wrong about that." Nanami raised his eyebrows. "Has anyone seen her since then?" He asked so concerned.

"No, we're working on a timeline on who might've. So far, you're the last person who has seen her. However, no one mentioned an ex-boyfriend before." Aki tapped his little notepad with his pen.

"Oh. it makes sense now." Nanami scratched his head.

"What makes sense?" Aki questioned.

"When she mentioned the ex-boyfriend, it went like this." He hummed, " 'My ex-boyfriend is a jerk who only thinks about himself. We were hardly boyfriend and girlfriend since we dated for three months.' It was confusing to me. I don't know what these young adults think now about relationships; now there is a thing called situationship' or whatever it's called. Every day, I hear students talk about their 'situationship'—are they boyfriend and girlfriend? I don't know what kids are up to these days." He explained. "I was puzzled because, aren't boyfriend and girlfriend, boyfriend and girlfriend? Now, I realize, it must've been one of those situations where you're just with a guy, just cause, with no title. Now it makes sense why it's called situationship'. Either way, it can still break someone's heart. Maybe that's why no one mentioned him; it didn't seem like what they saw was a relationship. Nonetheless, for Miss (Y/n), it must've been more than that, but it was overlooked."

"Did she mention anything about this ex-boyfriend or lover she had?" The detective asked, jotting down as much information as he got.

"No. She was on her phone during the little conversation we had so it was cut short. I swear those kids are always on their phones like they're addicted to them." Nanami picked up his papers and hit them on the desk countertop to straighten them in place. He checked his watch and saw the time. "My next class is about to start. Is there anything I can help with?"

The detective closed his notepad, "No that'll be all for today. Thank you, Mr. Nanami." He shook his hand and headed his way out alongside the two officers.

"Oh! Please tell (Y/N)'s family my condolences. She's one of my students here. Hope she's found soon." Nanami said.

The detective gave him a sympathetic smile, "Sadly, her parents died recently, in a car accident. I'll tell her friend though, she's worried sick about her."

Nanami went back to teaching his class. He went on to be a normal regular teacher. He saw the detective and two officers roaming around, talking to other students and teachers. He kept his usual face and went on with his day. He would hear his colleagues about you, how they're saddened that you just vanished.

Some came up and spoke to Nanami since you were in his class, and he gave them the same type of response he gave to Detective Aki. When he got into his car, he drove off.

He went on to run some errands really quickly and got some snacks and a beverage. He went and decided to stop by a public library and started to use the public computers and continued to do some paperwork and make new homework and test assignments.

He looked at the time got up from his chair, logged off, and walked away from the library building. He got back in his car and drove off to a food place.

He ordered a meal for himself and ate in his car while grading more of his paperwork. When the sun was completely gone, he went to a copy, and fax machine place that was open 24 hours and started to make multiple copies before heading his way home near midnight.

He did this routine for 3 weeks. 3 whole weeks. 3 torture weeks for him.

The day he saw a man getting arrested on the college campus with Detective Aki and the two officers, his 3 whole weeks ended.

He got out of work, he went on to the library, and used the computer for some time. He went to an electronic store and bought himself a new computer. He got into his car and drove home.

He opened the door that was inside the garage and placed the store bag on the kitchen counter.

He walked upstairs and opened the bedroom door. "Sorry, I'm late. Work has been chaotic." He stared at you with your eyes glossy and the rag on your mouth. Your hands were still tied up to the headboard. He went towards and touched the rag and pulled it out. " Sorry about this, sweetheart. It was just a precaution. On the good news, they arrested that ex-boyfriend of yours. It wasn't good for him when they saw all the texts he had 'sent' you. Too bad they found your phone on his property."

"P-please...don't hurt me...Please don't hurt me." You cried to him.

He grabbed your cheeks with his hand, "Who's your best friend?" When you didn't answer him, he grabbed onto you harder, "Answer me!"

"E-Emi." You told him.

"Well, that Emi bitch made those 3 weeks a living fucking hell for me and I'm not too happy about that, sweetheart." He sighed and let you go. "At first I thought your family was gonna be in my way, but it turns out is Emi. Tell me, what should I do?"

You shook your head.

"You're right. It'll be too suspicious." He got on the bed and laid next to you. "I'm just happy to be with you." He slid his hand down to your body and stopped once it reached your stomach. "It must've been lonely here for you. Tell me something else, do you want some company while I'm gone?"

You felt your body shiver with his touch and talk. "N-no."

"No? You're fine here without me? Because if you ever feel alone, I can change that." He rubbed your stomach.

"I'm fine. I-I'm okay." You pulled your knees up to your chest feeling chills going through your body.

"I love you, I hope you know that." He said, smiling at you. He pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your body. "I'm doing this all for you."

He kissed your cheek, "This is all for love."

SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Sorry for the long wait! R.I.P to Nanami 😩)

[ryuzakemo128]

Grim Reaper Part Three

Pairings: Poly 141 x female reader / female reader x her mental health

Content Warnings: Kidnapping, breaking and entering, mention of one-night stand, pregnancy from one night stand, possessive & obsessed Austrian man.

Words: 2345

Masterlist - Prequel - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine

Supernatural AU - Poem

Credit for Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Note: Song inspired this part: Only You by The Platters

Summary:

Only you can make all this world seem right.

Only you can make the darkness bright.

Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do

And fill my heart with love for only you

‘If you think you are perfect because you have no disabilities, illness or family trauma. I will be there to knock you to back on your knees and crush you like the ant you are.’

‘Pathetic.’

‘Weak.’

‘More excuses from those who have a superiority complex.’

‘Turn away like you do when someone asks for help, when foster homes and orphanages do shady shit. Your word mean nothing to me.’

‘Leave. Me. Alone.’

They don’t know what your real name is. Your file is coated in so many layers of black ink it might as well be a black page. Even then, so much of who you are and what made who you have remained classified. Under lock and key. Away from unauthorized personnel. To be able to view your file they would need permission from your superiors as well as their boss.

You wore a nanofiber, reinforced body suit underneath your shirt and trousers. The black jacket draped over your shoulders, as you continued to glare from the sidelines. “I don’t care why you might want to have her. She’s not yours to have, she doesn’t belong to you, she isn’t yours to take. She is better off in our care than she is in yours. Don’t ask or request for this again.” Your superior, to say he was angry with them would be an understatement.

“It’s like they don’t understand how you function.” He groaned as he slammed the phone down. Cutting them off from making more incessant demands. You and he walked from his office to the mission briefing.

“Hopefully, they’ll find someone else to assist sir.” You told him.

He nodded in agreement, “Hopefully they do Reaper, hopefully they do.”

It felt like yesterday when that conversation occurred. You wanted to go back to that time. It was far simpler than the time of your life now. Things didn’t feel like they were constantly stacked against you for one reason or some other.

You were always told to love yourself. Yet you never learned how. You didn’t have a role model like the children you grew up with. You didn’t look up to your mother or your father, you saw them falling over themselves. Mentally, sometimes literally.

You wondered what it would like to have parents to pick you up from school. For your parents to put your report on the fridge to show off your good grades.

You reminded Soap, “I'm only helping you to make sure you don't fuck it up.”

The thick leather boots kept the cold snow from seeping to your limbs. You’ve been here before. Many times, before. The cold welcomed you back like a mother waiting for them at the front door after school.

You make took any work to have the excuse to avoid a confrontation from any of them. ‘Can’t confront someone if they’re not there, right?’ you mused with a slow smirk creeping across your face.

However, they weren’t keen on letting you slip away into the night, you were about to cut firewood as they huddled up in the main room. You didn’t mind the cold as much. It felt more welcoming to you than the warmth inside. Layering the wood, you cut up into the firewood holder inside. Picking it up from the wheelbarrow you found in the abandoned shed close by. You were about to make another trip outside. This time to gather sticks, leaves and anything to keep the fire going without resourcing to depleting their back-up firewood.

A firm hand grasping tightly on yours as you turned the doorknob, you were warm, weren’t you? You had more layers on than an onion, at least you felt like you had more layers on than people would have loved to assume. The reinforced bodysuit, the shirt, the trousers, the fur jacket over the top. Black leather with fur lined gloves to tie it all together.

Layers like an onion. Warm like a Siberian bear. The more dead wood from the snow-covered forest you gathered, seeing your mother everywhere still, you walked closer to her, or you attempted to. Yet no matter how close you got, the further away she was.

Was she a hallucination? A visual and audible hallucination? A product of her grief, lack of proper sleep, a lack of a proper send off when your parents passed at sixteen. Once you saw your mother, it was like something inside of you snapped. You didn’t realise you were chasing after her until you felt someone grab your wrist tightly.

You were slowly moving further away from the cabin, step by step, losing your mind in a haze of grief.

‘Have you come to apologise?’ you wondered. Moving faster to get closer to her. Hearing her humming through the forest. Echoing through the trees. Feeling like you were ten years old playing hide and seek with your mother in the park. Only for to disappear whenever you got too close to her.

You didn't hear them calling out to you to snap out of it. You were too caught up in the chase, the illusion of your mother's presence. The cold wind whipped around you, but you felt no chill. Your mind was racing, your heart pounding. You were desperate to find her, to talk to her, to understand.

‘I’m coming mother. Wait for me.’

‘Wait for me.’

‘Please mother.’

Those three thoughts repeating like clockwork, repeating like a broken record. A grandfather clock chiming, the sound of the reverse and slowed down. You never caught up. As soon as you closed your eyes and opened them again. The illusion of your mother vanished, replaced by the stark reality of the snow-covered forest.

As the illusion of your mother faded, you found yourself standing in the middle of the snow-covered forest, the sound of your own ragged breathing echoing in the quiet. You felt a cold shiver run down your spine, not from the frigid air, but from the realisation of what had just happened.

When you got back to the cabin, you hoped you were quiet enough to sneak to your corner and sleeping bag to go to sleep. Ghost spotting you asleep in the corner, arms crossed and frowning like you were still annoyed with someone.

Even in your sleep. You looked like you were tired of dealing with people. Though you were not as young as people assumed you were. You were treated like you didn’t know anything or that you didn’t know any better.

“I’m a thirty-year-old woman. I’ve been in the military for twelve years. Stop treating me like I don’t know anything.” You said to Price once. You were beyond angry at the time. “You have second guessed every decision I’ve made since this whole thing started. If you have an issue with how I did things you could have told me instead. For someone so keen on open communication. You haven’t been doing a lot of it.”

"I apologize, Reaper," he said, his voice sincere. "I've been under a lot of stress lately, and I've taken it out on you. I trust your judgment, and I'm sorry for doubting it."

“Try to do better. An apology without action is just as bad as no apology at all.” You reminded him. “And no, I’m not mad at you, a little disappointed, but not mad.”

Price raised an eyebrow at the second part of what you said, "You're not mad? That’s a first.”

“What can I say? I’m full of stardust and miracles.” You snorted sipping your coffee, wrapping your gloved fingers around the white coffee mug.

Price chuckled, "You're definitely something else, Reaper."

“I try. It’s hard work, and most of the time, a bow and arrow doesn’t always cut it.” You replied, taking another sip of your coffee.

His gaze falling on the compact bow on the table, next to your recurve bow, more like hunting bows. The military didn’t use them as far as knew. You have been using them to hunt for more food, Ghost said something about it while you were gone hunting.

Soap loved taking naps near you afterwards, which didn’t bother you nearly as much as they assumed. “We’re in a snowy area.” You stated. As if they should think about the cold rather than anything illicit.

His head resting on your shoulder, as you both were fast asleep, as Ghost walked inside from the blizzard outside. His breath fogging up in front of his face, closing the door behind him. Eyes drifting over to where you and Soap were huddled together on the couch in front of the fireplace.

Now the mission a distant memory. An echo inside their minds. News of your kidnapping drifted to them. A week after it had occurred. You were taken by someone while you were on mandatory leave. Price kicking himself mentally. How would he have known this would be the outcome of sending you back home?

“When was the last message she sent out?” Price asked Gaz, his frown deep and his impatience growing by the second.

Gaz checked the transcripts of the most recent messages she had sent them to the last one she had sent through before the recent one. Searching for a possible connection between the last two calls you made. The only thing standing out to them was the number. The number of your mother’s cell phone stood out to them as an anomaly.

The last two calls you made were to your mother’s cell phone. Odd. Suspicious even.

“Gaz, run a trace on the phone number, Soap, grab the co-ordinates after Gaz gives you and follow up on the location of where the phone call might have come from.” Price said to the two of them.

Alaska. Northern part of the forest called the Chugach National Forest.

"According to what I've seen. It is coming from a burner phone." Gaz told Price.

Soap is still gripping onto the shirt you gave him a year ago. "Take it." You said.

"Odd way to give a present Reaper." Soap smirked.

"Odd way to say, 'thank you' Soap." You countered with a smirk. You didn't know how to give people presents without making it awkward.

Yet Soap, he never seemed to mind. He always seemed to appreciate your awkward attempts at gift-giving. He cherished them. Although now his mind has is pictures of you in an oversized hoodie.

When your rank of Lieutenant Colonel was revealed to them. A picture of you at 18, dead pan expression and a tired look in your eyes giving look of a 'perpetually resting bitch face' according to Price. Which strangely enough fit you, well that, along with your personality of a stray feline with a penchant of an Irish goodbye.

The last recorded message to them, 'It's weird being back home. But doctors’ orders are final, and I don't think I would be able to look him in the eye if I didn't. Fear of failure is scary I'll say it. It's strange here. Too quiet. I think I got used to Price's snoring and Gaz's endless chatter. You have no idea how many times I was overstimulated, and your chatter was the perfect white noise I needed. Hard to have ADHD and depressive disorder with psychotic traits mixed in. But hey, it is what it is, and the rest is stardust, biscuits, naps and getting scared because you saw your own mask in the mirror at 3am. I'll say this once though I love you. I'll never say to your face because you'll have to pry the word from me like you'd have pry the mint chocolate ice cream from my cold dead fingers. But, yeah, I love you and I'll see you soon alright? And you too Ghost."

The last message you sent out. 'I think someone might be in my house. Not too keen on being someone's target. Ghost, being you're the responsible one out of the two of us. I sent you confirmation of where I lived with my parents. A starting point.' The background noise of creaking floorboards, as you whispered. An unmistakable Austrian accent, "Maus where are you?" In the background followed by heavy rain masking the footsteps.

You continued to whisper into the phone as the message was pretty long in duration. "Ghost, you were right, I admit it, you were right during that argument, and I was clearly wrong." You moved to the attic. Sneaking there while the intruder was downstairs. You continued to whisper, "I'm sorry I argued with you. I should've listened to you. I should've stayed with you. I should've..." Your voice trailed off as you fumbled with the attic hatch, trying to secure it. "I should've just stayed with you."

A sob escaped your lips as you realized your mistake. You had been so stubborn, so determined to prove your independence, that you had ignored the warning signs. Now, you were trapped, alone, and terrified.

You pulled out your phone and sent a final message to Ghost: "I was wrong. He found me. I'm in the attic."

"Mäuschen there you are." The male Austrian voice said in a chilling tone, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the attic hatch. The line went dead as he crushed the cell phone beneath his hefty foot. "You're pregnant Maus. I can't have you hurting OUR child."

You didn’t know what he was getting at, what did he mean by our child? Surely you remember what he means by that don’t you? Apparently, it seems to bother him. It bothers him that you don’t remember him. That’s fine Maus. He’ll make you remember him. One way or another, you will remember who he is.

Over his shoulder you go Maus.

Right to the den of inequity.

One of his own making.

Only you can make all this world seem right.

Only you can make the darkness bright.

Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do

And fill my heart with love for only you

Note: I'm trying to hint at him without revealing who he is too fast. I hope you enjoyed reading. See you when part 4 comes out.

German Meaning for:

Maus means mouse.

Mauschen means little mouse.

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Therapy Files 2: Splinters in the Water (Therapist)

Summary: Carmen Berzatto is the most interesting patient this psychologist has met in the city. (669 Words)

Warnings: I am not a psychologist; this is not medical advice. Swearing, mention of suicide, mention of alcoholism, mention of mental and emotional abuse, religious references. Feat. Darling (aka fem reader, though the reader could also be the psychologist).

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! This is a work in the Therapy Files Series and will be tagged with #cb therapy files.

Sideblog for commentary and social stuff: @m-z-shoroi

Day 1

It’s too late to be doing this right now, but here we go.

I’ve had a few cases that have stuck out so far—Chicago needs about ten million more therapists yesterday, this city is drowning under crippling mental illness—but Mr. Berzatto might be the most interesting.

He’s a disaster. A wreck of biblical proportions. He’s the broken slats of Noah’s Ark on Mount Ararat. Splinters in the water as it recedes. It’s like he’s held together by duct tape, super glue, and two prayers, this poor young man. Needs about a thousand more. I might add him to the list of patients to pray for, and I only just met him.

He looked like he was going to pass out when I called his name in the waiting room. He had a woman with him; she was holding his hand and rubbing his back. She seems sweet. He looked to her for reassurance, not unlike a small child. I feel like I recognize her, but that’s a problem for later. He was hunched up in his patchwork jacket, almost like he was trying to take up the least amount of space he could, and it wasn’t until he handed me the clipboard of his intake paperwork that I noticed his tattoos. He’s got some novels on his skin. Could be safe topics to unpack if needed. Lipstick print on the left hand, matched the shade his partner was wearing. He kept looking at it every time he locked up during the appointment. Also something safe to ask about.

PHQ-9 is 21. GAD-7 is 18. Suicide risk low; girlfriend is a protective factor. Referral to psychiatry sent.

Full clinical assessment in clinical notes; I keep getting off track with these entries.

Obvious severe anxiety, sure, but he’s softspoken, almost like he’s choking on his words as they come out. I’ll admit, he looked like he would be a difficult one. I know the type, I’ve had several. Significant other or parents or best friends force them to come to therapy hoping it’ll fix the damaged relationship they have, but because they don’t want to be there, the exercise becomes a fruitless endeavor. He’s not one of those. He admitted he needs help, but he’s not sure where to start. Admitted that the idea of therapy was unappealing to him, but that something had to change, and this would be a change. It’s unique. He’s highly logical and goal-oriented but also lacks organization and emotional development. Wavers between extremely attentive and absent. Alcoholic mother, absent father, addict brother who was a suicide victim, high-stress job, mental and emotional abuse. But warm. Vulnerable in his nature. A child forced to be an adult too soon, but more comfortable in that adulthood, even if he lacks the legs for it. Odd.

This kid’s got a lot of skeletons in his closet.

He has the bluest eyes I have ever seen in my life. I don't know if they're real or contacts. I'm tempted to say real because, with the state he is in, I doubt he'd want to put in bright blue contacts, but I'll have to gather more information—could be part of the masking. His hair is a mess, too. It's somehow dry and greasy at the same time, curly, wavy, kinky, some random ramen noodle shapes by his temples because he drags his fingers through it repeatedly. Seems to be a nervous tic. Couldn't hold still. He was uninterested in any of the fidgets I had available.

Prominent stammer. Wouldn't hold eye contact when speaking but held it when listening. Self-soothing face touching. Jerky movements. Mask-like flat expression. Looked tired. Looked like his soul was tired, the kind of tired I’d expect in a middle-aged mother of 4 teenage children, not someone in their mid-20s. Heightened sensitivity to sound and light. Anxious about sitting with his back to the door. It took him too long to answer basic questions—overthinking? Anxiety? Guarded? Why not all 3?

Likely all 3.

Trauma referral sent.

Appointments once a week scheduled for the next 3 months.

So, why the fuck can’t I sleep?

[borealopelta]

wip whatever

i'm gonna go ahead and consider myself tagged in @arokel's tagless tag game because i want to talk about My Wips :-) if anyone feels like joining in, please do!!

after posting my latest fic i was kinda like. hmm. i don't have anything to show. which is not true!! i have not one but two geologist!don fics in the wip folder. (now you could ask. hey finch why do you keep writing geologyfic. well a) i have this mental illness called degree in geology and b) it's basically just me trying to conceptualise what being a geologist (or studying geology) must have been like for someone who was doing it before the theory of plate tectonics was even proposed (not to mention accepted). the amount of stuff that was fully unknown to geology in the times these fics are set is limiting as fuck and that's what makes them endlessly fun to tinker with. i've done sooooo much niche research. this is what constitutes fun for me. apologies)

i've already talked about the first one in an ask game, don's horrible geology exam, which i've been slowly piecing together from semi coherent notes app scribblings from the height of my mystery illness, BUT the other is newww so. also i don't have titles picked out because i'm bad at that so the titles are. the file names. yay! snippets under readmore:

geologydonfic is the aforementioned don's exam misery fic

Bobby takes in Don – the line of his bracelet a red imprint on his cheek, bruise-black circles under his red-rimmed eyes, paler than ever, frown lines like deep etchings on his handsome face. It’s clear that he’s not dealing on his own. “Fine,” he says after barely any deliberation, “I can help you study.” He picks up Don’s textbook and flips to a random page. Most of it is taken up by a big, colourful chart, sort of like a repeating rainbow getting more and more washed out, with ray-like lines coming out of one corner. It’s utterly incomprehensible. Bobby puts the book back down on the table. “I can’t help you study.” The corner of Don’s mouth twists into an almost-smile.

argentina is the newer one, set in argentina in 1967. don is there for work, bobby is there for don, it's hot, it's dirty (so far only in the "the drill site is a filthy place in general" way but who knows)

The Jeep that had picked him up at the airport slowly rolled away to join the fleet of identical vehicles, all decorated with the letters YPF – the name of the company in charge of the work, Bob assumed. He barely had time to feel (or look) lost when he noticed Don coming his way. Or at least he guessed it was Don, from the familiar walk and the fact that the man was a good four inches taller than everyone around him. Dressed in grubby work clothes and wearing a hard-hat that cast enough shadow to hide his entire face however, he could have been anyone. Then the smile gave him away. Bob had not been twenty-two and a fool in love in a good while, but that toothpaste-commercial-runaway, all-teeth, bright-as-the-sun smile Don could smile when he really put his mind to it still made him go weak in the knees.

[happysparklingshadows]

𝚃𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚃𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚛 + 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝 (’96)

Warnings: Controlling behaviors, Financial abuse, Mental illness, smut, mentions of physical pain (Not intentional and from a sleepwalking moment)

Notes: Taissa is such a mean lesbian and I feel like we as a fandom need to give her more love because who doesn’t love ‘96 Tai? Btw I love this format! @zhivaxo​ @g1rlsriot

                   *.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*  

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

I think Taissa is a very dominant ChapStick lesbian and would like to do more masculine performances of affection. Taissa holds the door for you, protects you with her mean standoffish personality, and tries her best to provide. She grew up in a very middle-class traditional home with still-married parents and two younger siblings, and she wants to be like her mom, the more significant breadwinner in the household. She wants to become a high-paid prosecutor, and she would want you never to have to work again. She is a big BIG act of service and Verbal reassurance, so she does a lot of hard labor for you and wants to be told she is doing good by you.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Taissa is very conflicted about how far she will go for you and how much her ambitions get ahead of her. Like how she was with Allie’s leg, I feel like Tai has a lot of pent-up rage inside of her for some reason that even she doesn’t know why she has. It would have to be other Tai getting their hands dirty, acting out all of Taissa’s subconscious urges of bloodshed. I don’t think it would happen often, only when someone threatens her profoundly because she usually relies on her sliver tongue to get her out of things with you.  

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Taissa would never kidnap you because she doesn’t want to have the consequences or social isolation of being a creepy person. However, she would mock you when you act like you are trapped with her. Because are you serious? Are you in bondage? Are you locked in a cage like how she wants to? No? Then fucking get over it, baby. 

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Taissa is overbearing and dominates your life in many ways. She will do things for you against your will as she files you into your license, she will let you cheat off her homework with her hovering over you to explain how to make it look like you did it all on your own, and she doesn’t let you solve any of your own problems. It’s a fucking godsend for you at the beginning of your relationship, but it becomes something of a problem when she starts fights with you and makes it about how you are being crazy. Taissa loves a good Gaslight. 

“Okay, so just make a little box in the corner and start writing the radio. So, Mrs. Goldberg can’t tell you’re coping.” Taissa says to you as she sets her homework beside your empty one. There is no judgment but just serious business in ensuring you didn’t get caught. 

“Thank you, baby, again. I just didn’t have time to do my homework last night because of my shift-”

“Don’t worry, pumpkin, I got you,” Taissa said as she kissed your temple, moving a hair behind your ear. She gently points to your writing and says, “Carry the two.” 

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Yes, she is very open but keeps certain things to herself. She doesn’t talk about her generational trauma with the man with no eyes, she doesn’t talk about the sleepwalking unless Tai has to or is forced by you, and she refuses to believe that the other Taissa is real. She didn’t want to accept she had problems because if Tai had any, she was fucking insane and destructive. Taissa is not doing her best and is not perfect, which fucking breaks Taissa apart inside. She doesn’t share that stuff. 

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Taissa is never wrong until proven wrong with rock-hard evidence, and she can’t believe you are fucking serious right now. She will simply double, triple, quadruple, and quintuple down because she doesn’t want to be wrong in a fight. She is the type to keep fighting even when Taissa knows she is wrong, but you don’t have enough evidence to prove her wrong, so she keeps fighting.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Taissa controls you, and she does so much for you that she doesn’t give a fuck if you are trying to leave her because you can’t. Try to find someone who will take care of you like her. She would use any means to keep you or manipulate you to anchor you to her. She came up in a very upper-middle-class family. If you were from a more similar to Natalie’s economic state, she would make you believe that you deserve how you are being treated because you are so lucky to be with her because of how much she can and does do for you.  Like, find someone who is going to buy you a car? Who can save all the money they make at their part-time job because their parents don’t need a dime from them, and they just buy you a fucking car because they just build up money for college? Or, more significantly, she would pay rent for your parents when they can’t make up this month because money is very tight. She would never outright hold it above you, but it is implied in the fabric of the relationship.   Even if you were in a better financial state than Natalie’s, Taissa would find a way for you to depend on her to provide for you. 

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

 Normal Taissa Never intentionally tries to hurt you physically or emotionally, but another Taissa is not ashamed to do any urge that subconsciously comes to her. Other Taissa would be physical and unwilling to listen to anything that you will say to them, which is quite terrifying, especially in the middle of the night in the wilderness. 

“Tai, Wake up, Please, wake up!” You beg her as she pulls you further and further into the dark woods. She blankly walks into the woods, letting you get hit by branches of trees as she naturally seems to duck; she ultimately lets you get hit by the wood. It has almost knocked a tooth out of your mouth, your lip is busted up, and a bruise is forming on your cheek. 

“Come.” She just says as she pulls you with a death grip on your wrist, not letting you go as she walks further into the woods. 

“FUCKING WAKE UP!! YOU’RE HURTING ME!” you cry as you pull her arm away from yours to no avail. It’s not working. She is pulling you to the cliffside. 

“He wants us here.” She stopped and stood in front of a tree. Her hands cup the sides as she starts to wake up. Taissa gasped as she felt how cold her feet were with the snow in-between her toes and her body without a coat. Her eyes are met with the same fucking symbol. 

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Traditional. Taissa wants to have kids and a dog, with a red house with a white fence. She grew up that way, and she wants to grow old that way. She doesn’t care to deconstruction the patriarchal or mystical aspects of what ordinary people see marriage as because, for Taissa, it is more of a confirmation of your championship being for life. Although controlling and manipulative, she doesn’t want you to be unhappy and try pretty hard to make you happy. 

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Taissa is very confident in herself and is not scared of anyone taking her away from her because she is very secure in herself. She doesn’t think Jealousy is very healthy and doesn’t let herself get jealous, and she does that by controlling who you hang out with and what you are doing. She trusts you and doesn’t think anyone is special enough to take her attention away from you. 

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Taissa tries her best to be good to you but isn’t the best because she is just a teenager. She treats you like her wife and doesn’t like the idea of being with another person. She loves you and only wants to be with you; she can’t imagine why you want anyone else. She treats you like you are her lover, but she doesn’t hold as much reverence as the other girls have for you. 

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Taissa took a while actually to approach you with anything other than friendship. You two were a part of the soccer team since freshmen year, but you didn’t have any classes together. You two weren’t very close, but Taissa always paused when she saw you, always having to look at your beautiful face. Once you two have classes together and have a moment to talk to each other, you two become closer until she finally asks you out. Once she is your friend, it will take her a few weeks. 

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from how they act around everyone else?

The two sides of Taissa are the most challenging thing for her to mask; her personality naturally masks many of her tendencies and darkness. The Snarky smart-ass way she held herself before the crash pushed people away enough not to see those things. But I don’t believe her showing or being more verbal about her darkness to you wouldn’t break her mask because it’s just something about being with Taissa. 

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Cold shoulder and eye rolls. Taissa thinks of herself as mature and calm but still a teenager. She doesn’t know how to talk healthily about her feelings, and she doesn’t want you to hate her, so she just becomes quiet and shows her displeasure with you at every chance she can get. 

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

A lot of them. She would make things very strict in your relationship, and she makes sure that you follow each one or else you will be at the end of hours of lectures from her. Or worse, you will start a fight and have a bad tonight. She gives you a schedule, rules like which hallway or jobs in the group you can do, and Tai doesn’t let you do your own things. 

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Taissa doesn’t have much patience for anything and uses that impatience to work towards her ambitions. She was raised in a home that only praised her or gave her the spotlight of attention when she was going her best and excelling. She was on top of everything for some reason, and it wasn’t because she was patient. It was because she puts so many fingers in many pies and quits when it gets too annoying and lengthy.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Taissa would literally stop. Taissa would just disappear, and other Taissa would keep her going. My headcannon is that other Taissa is a splitting of Taissa’s psyche that does the things that normal Taissa doesn’t want to do. Like is closer to the spiritual, does the hunt, and eats the meat. So I believe that if you died in the wilderness, Taissa would “move on” by her brain, not letting her feel it until she returned home. I feel like Taissa would never remarry or find a new partner because you were her wife after the events of the wilderness. 

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Fuck no. Taissa isn’t being as bad as she could be and doesn’t think she is being that bad. She doesn’t understand why you think you are “trapped”; the door is right there. But you both know you can’t because of more than just not wanting to be with her anymore; you no longer have the resources you have because of her, and it would ruin your life. 

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

She got this way because of her neuroses and upbringing. Taissa grew up with very healthy parents to each other but was controlling her every move, and she learned that her parents' hovering and expectations were love and care. She was given a tight school schedule, clubs, tutoring, piano lessons, and French lessons, and she was expected to be the perfect daughter. And Taissa fucking crushed it because of that pressure; her mother once said something about it, making Taissa a Diamond. She is a tough, sharp, and beautiful person because of all of her weight since she was young. Tai’s mother didn’t see an issue with parenting style because, after all, her grandmother did that to her mother, and she is a successful doctor, now Chief of Staff. So, to Taissa, being possessive, strict, and controlling is all an act of love. 

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

She is annoyed normally because she doesn’t know how to fix it. When it’s a moment of mutual sadness and vulnerability, she has no problem. It’s healing to cry together, but she is usually really not great with tears. 

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic Yandere?

Taissa is not verbal about her dark tendencies, which are very much kept to her chest. Because you are the same age as her, 18 years old, you just think these strict rules you both follow are because it’s how serious relationships work. I don’t think you would ever have the vocabulary to put together that she is a Yandere unless someone told you that those things are bad (bc it’s 1996 girl. These girls didn’t know what seasonal depression was) 

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit to escape?

Her ego and pride. Stroke either, and be kind to her; you can do anything. She doesn’t mind too much and allows you to do your own thing on your schedule, so you have plenty of opportunities to leave her. 

You moan as Taissa kisses down your stomach, and her fingers plunge in and out of you. Your legs are open and wide just for her to have all of you. You were wet because of her. Taissa smiles as she starts to lick down on your clit. 

“Fuck! Tai-” You pant as you try to stay quiet for the girls downstairs, “Yeah, just like that. You’re so good at eating pussy.” 

Taissa feels a surge inside her as she moves her tongue faster. She loved the praise and just wanted you to be pleased with her. She loved how you tasted and how you felt against her tongue. Your hands come to her hair, and you move them to her shoulders to not mess with her hair, and you claw your fingers into her shoulder. “Yes, ah~.” 

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Never intentionally; it doesn’t hurt you terribly when other Taissa doesn’t get physical. I see the other Tai grabbing and dragging you in the wilderness and letting you get hit by branches of trees, and she would drag you to where she could feel it. 

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Tai is like Van in that she reveres you as an angel figure. You are simply better than everyone else, and so is she. She thinks you are too good for this world and doesn’t like it when people try to silence your personality shine, and she doesn’t hold back from confronting anyone if they do that to you. 

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

She just didn’t get close to you for a while until you were meant to meet. It didn’t take her long to go for you when she knew you and became friends with you, and I would say she would take maybe a week of friendship to be like, “Okay, this is not just friendship.”

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

In the sense of independence of yourself, yes. But your will and your opinions, never that. 

Yandere Level

 7/10 (She is Controlling and very Territorial over you. She is good to you and loves you openly. But she does have problems that people outside of the relationship would notice.)

Freedom Level

 6/10 (You are not very free with your schedule and what you can do with your free will, but she doesn’t stop you from having your own opinions and hobbies. She doesn’t take your personhood away from you.)

Vanessa    ✿  Shauna ✿

[xianhuashi]

I saw that people do this on their blogs so I thought maybe I should. Hello, I’m (金萱) Jin Xuan/ (金) Jin!!!!! my American friends call me Jennie (refrain from calling me Jennie unless i say you can) !!!!!

She/her/herself/they/them and bisexual (pref for girls). I have diagnosed Autism so please don’t be upset if I don’t respond right away, i’m thinking of a way to respond to ur statement!!

(((((A lot of my comics involve heavy topics. Like self bye bye, self injury, wars etc, but not all of them!!! I make the occasional cute, wholesome comic!)))))

I am an artist obsessed with big hero 6 and genshin impact to name the most impactful hahaha pretend to laugh pls

Terms of DNI : DNI for me means don’t comment anything because I don’t like negativity, but you can like my posts (besides the second list of DNI, then don’t interact with my posts or my page at all)

DNI if you are homophobic (includes transphobia) , racist (no ching chong jokes please)🙏 or just bigoted in general!!!

Just don’t be mean, this blog is just to have fun and post silly art and comics, not to foster hatred. JUST BE NICE IS IT THAT HARD!?!?!?

SERIOUSLY DNI if you are a pedo/‘MAP’ , animal ‘enjoyer’ (you know what I mean) 😭 in love with your family (incest) or illegal immoralities, like dead body… attraction… more in par@f1les later

Some artwork may have suggestive themes. Those artworks are few and far between. And, it’s nothing like, OH MA GAH HOLY WATER!!

No, no. Just showy outfits or exaggerated features. Nothing outwardly sexual.

I am anti Par@file. This is in fact, not a safe space for you.

I do not support endogenic systems. You are essentially making fun of serious mental illnesses like DID.

Please refrain from mentioning the Israel Palestine situation. This blog isn’t the place for that.

Please refrain from mentioning the Russia Ukraine situation. This blog isn’t the place for that.

THIS BLOG IS RUN BY A MINOR, NSFW BOTS DNI DNI DNI

!!!!If you are an nsfw blog please don’t interact with me, my art, don’t message me, don’t like my posts, ignore me!!!!

Hey! Don’t get lost in my blog, please. Here is a guide!!

- #IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT 📣 📣 (Jin Xuan’s important announcements)

- #Dr. Hamada chronicles ( The doctor hamada comic related things)

- #Xianhua art (my art)

- #Xianhua special art (commissioned/ gifted artwork. You can commission me by DMing me and we will work out those details. My coms are ALWAYS open)

- #Xianhua’s other stuff (stupid unrelated stuff that I shouldn’t have posted)

-#the iPad Saga (every post about when my iPad broke)

-#Jin's digital diary (personal life, mostly heavier topics like my brother's sui, my ED recovery, (I was nearing an0r3xi@ levels) my challenges with racism during 2020, (I was beaten) and my coming out worries. if you don't like that kind of thing, stay away from this tag. You can block this tag by going into your settings and typing “Jin’s digital diary” or “digital diary warning” into filtered tags. If you ever decide you wanna view these posts, take it out.)

[pansy-placebo]

About me

Hi! Call me Pansy, or Bo.

I don't know what this blog will be yet, so it'll be a lot of reblogs for the time being. I'd like to make some friends here, though.

Content warning: brain damage, drug use, trauma, sex and rape mention, mental illness, er... politics? Also the DNI section includes a lot of difficult topics, I need to mention stuff to be sure to ward away assholes, sorry.

I'm mlm and polyamorous.

I'm a very gender little goblin man, I'm a drag artist with a couple shows under my belt. Said shows are very rare at the moment, so the drag I do the most is just dressing up lol. I'm really considering making a drag society/club in my local town- I'm Welsh, and re-learning the language since I went to live in England for a few years and completely forgot how to speak it.

My pronouns are he/him or xey/xem.

I have a degree in fine art, but got some brain damage (oops) which means my art production really slowed to a halt for the past few years. I still occasionally draw, paint and make jewellery though. At the moment, I'm too disabled to have any kind of job but I hope over time those issues will get better and I'll be able to support myself on my art again.

I have ADHDtism, here are some special interests and hyperfixations, some of which are active, some have passed and just left a lasting impact on my psyche:

goth music

nutrition, digestion, and diet culture (which is a scam btw)

art and art history

human anatomy

aquatic life, especially aquatic snails

religions, particularly shingon

sexual paraphilias, the more niche the better (that one lasted a decade) and I won't be posting about it here because honestly wtf is my brain

I write. So far this post has been a truly terrible showcase of my writing skills, because my brain is very blob-of-goo-sloshing-in-a-bone-fishbowl right now, but I used to produce mass amounts of poetry and I still write occasionally. Maybe I'll even post some of it from time to time, who knows!

I'm ok with some nsfw stuff, but I won't be reblogging or posting porn, and I don't want any of that on my dash please. PLEASE DON'T PUT PORN ON MY DASH.

I'm very mentally ill, but I'm reticent about it because I'm still feeling out the culture here. For now let's just say I have a lot of trauma in my past and sometimes my brain says "fuck you, lmao" and takes all my memories out of their filing cabinets and lights them on fire.

I'm also a drug addict, which exacerbates the amnesia, and a former alcoholic still wrestling with the bottle.

My politics: I'm very left leaning and very aware of societal issues. I'm somewhere in the arena of socialism and communism, and I've read enough theory to know I don't know how to correctly pick a precise label for my politics in that area. Initially while writing this post, the political section was super long and then I realized that this is not the point of this blog, so fuck that. You get the idea. I give a shit.

DNI:

porn blogs

SWERFs

transphobes, "gender critical" people, transmeds

aphobic people: if you think ace people are not discriminated against, you are included here, so DNI.

racists, nazis, islamaphobes, antisemites: for example if you think white people/culture are under attack, you are included in this section, so DNI.

discourse-havers: I mean the people who will bring the discourse to my dash. I mean a sensitive topic discussion which devolves into a screaming wall of reductive rhetoric and contrived logic where everyone who disagrees in any way is a bad person and people just start attacking each other for having the wrong opinion instead of having actual conversations about the subject at hand. I was on twitter for years, and I learned early on that The Discourse was never something to engage in, and I'm aware that it happens here too. Keep it off my dash. Thanx.

Pedos, MAPs, lolicons and their supporters.

ableists, anti-self-dx people. Do you think you can tell when people "aren't really" disabled, or that there are a hoards of people out there claiming to be disabled for the money? if so, DNI.

if your blog has a lot of self harm, gore or rape content

people who think doxxing is generally okay. I don't think it's okay in most situations

classists: Do you think poor people deserve to be poor, that they have done something to "deserve" poverty, that they should just spend their money better and stop being poor? do you never give money to homeless people because they'll "spend it all on drugs"? if yes to any of these, DNI.

Do you think people with eating disorders should just "eat a sandwich?" if yes, DNI. EDs are complex, I won't want to interact with people who belittle ED havers.

can't currently think of anything else to add here but yeah i think you get the idea.

See ya,

xxx

Bo / Pansy

[21ate]

thank god ive never personally seen michael slander come across my shit, id be livid tbh

i feel these kinds of ppl just dont wanna acknowledge that mike/pat are Actually Mentally ill, like... its just because of the supernatural stuff for the way things have turned out or something

like a pretty common perspective from a few years back was that patricks this supernatural entity similarly to habit and michaels just letting him ruin his life, or even in on it himself. this was largely before emh had ended and the more recent recovery of the michaels computer files from the video eric/documents, which has patrick DIRECTLY mentioning that he/michael have did. hell ill admit, i was a bit of an outspoken proponent of this idea too. i didnt go so far as to say they were bad people (cuz frankly i was a shaun hater at the time, oops) but still, not the greatest take to have in hindsight lol

its not that much better than acknowledging the mental illness aspect and thinking poorly of mike and pat anyways so??? like THATS bonkers tbh. so yeah.. for me, now with some time and more information to go off, of ive definitely changed my tune on the matter quickly (and i dont hate shaun anymore ofc, even if i still think he was being an ass in brotherly love)

either way though, it does a great disservice to the character and the story overall to see that people are misunderstanding the guy SO BADLY these days, let alone make a villain out of him too. wild shit fr

i don't usually block people much in the community, i more go for blocking tags and keywords if it's a ship i don't like or something. this is because there's people whose art i love who might enjoy ships that i don't (i'm very picky with my ships so this is extremely common and normal), so really i only block spammers and drama hoarders

however, i have to admit the urge is always there when i see someone dogging michael andersen to hell and back, portraying him as a manipulative mastermind or an energy vampire or something. like it's just annoying and sometimes dips into some arguments that rub me the wrong way. this goes doubly for when this stuff ends up in the notes of my own posts

don't get me wrong, i'm not saying the guy is purely good, or that he never did anything dickish... but, everyone in the series is like that sometimes, so i don't think it matters much with his character specifically. so seeing michael's flaws getting inflated to be way worse than everyone else's is weird. hell, even if you take habit's words at face value and believe them, which honestly could be interesting as a story beat if done correctly because it has the moral complexity i love so much, i think it's more likely that once again, michael is being turned into the universal scapegoat and he can never escape it. but i'm getting off topic

it makes things difficult sometimes when i see michael get this kind of character reception i guess, because i often see it among people who enjoy shaun's character like i do, but it's almost led to a level of distrust because it's like. do you like shaun's character for the moral complexity and/or the potential for a character arc, or are you a fan because you watched the series, saw michael clearly needing help, and immediately translated that into him being a danger to everyone around him or being toxic or whatever. sometimes i worry that by simply posting about shaun a lot, possibly contributing to some more popularity with the character, i've unintentionally opened the floodgates for some people to watch a series about mental illness only to completely disregard the guy with a mental illness who needed support. no matter how much i say i love the character and i think this mentality is fucked up, there's always going to be a possibility of it happening, and i've seen it more often in the last year or so. do you get me

[leafs-lover]

Too Far Gone - Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: It's almost here! I know you are excited and eager for this fic and I am too. I currently don't have a timeline or schedule for posting updates.

If you would like to be added to the taglist send me and ask here.

I have a bunch of asks stored under "auston!dad fic" from before any parts were published. Going forward all asks will be filed under "Too Far Gone Asks" in case you want to dive into those

The idea of a secret child is somewhat inspired by @/raysofcrosby "Whatever Life Throws At You" fic with Matt Tkachuk. But the similarities stop there. To that point go read her story because it's amazing!

My work is my own, I do not consent to it being copied, translated or posted on any other service. If you see it somewhere else please let me know!

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, and not all of these apply to every part. But just a heads up so you can decide if you are interested there will be: cursing, drinking, mentions of cocaine use, single parents who make stupid mistakes, strippers and talks of the sex industry, body shaming, slut shaming, smut, cheating, talks of adoptions, abortions, mental illness: depression and anxiety and possibly more (I'll update this if any more warnings come up). Do not read this if you are not 18+

Introduction

Meet Tia

Part One *

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

*Part Five

The FaceTime*

New Years*

Part Six

Part Seven*

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten *

Part Eleven *

Part Twelve *

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

Part Eighteen

Part Nineteen

One Shot - Legally Blonde*

Part Twenty

Party Twenty One

Part Twenty Two

Part Twenty Three

Part Twenty Four*

Part Twenty Five *

Part Twenty Six*

Part Twenty Seven

Part Twenty Eight *

Part Twenty Nine

Part Thirty*

Part Thirty One

Part Thirty Two*

Part Thirty Three*

Part Thirty Four

Part Thirty Five*

Part Thirty Six

Part Thirty Seven

Part Thirty Eight

Part Thirty Nine

Part Forty

Part Forty One*

Part Forty Two*

Part Forty Three

Part Forty Four*

Part Forty Five

Part Forty Six

Part Forty Seven

Party Forty Eight

Part Forty Nine

Part Fifty

Part Fifty One

Part Fifty Two*

Part Fifty Three*

Part Fifty Four*

Part Fifty Five*

Part Fifty Six*

Part Fifty Seven*

The Extra's

Epilogue One

The tattoo*

Epilogue Two

Epilogue Three

The Contract*

Epilogue Four

Epilogue Five

Epilogue Six

Epilogue Seven

Daddy's Girl

Instagram Edits

Part Twelve

Pregnancy #2 Announcement

The kids

Taylour James

Maddison Grace

Benjamin Levi

Quinn Leigh

[system-of-a-feather]

Sorry for probably rendering your notifications a mess after I went through your blog like it's my dash 😅 I just really find your posts insightful and ended up spamming you a bit as a result.

PFFT No worries. Some other users do that too from time to time; its all good. Your tags were quality content and I too want "Jake Lockley killing Bezos in S2 Challenge" because yes. Please. I need that. Marvel, please make that the whole plot of S2. Send message. /joking

Honestly, we have gotten to a place with having DID where a lot of the stuff people struggle with and talk about on in early stages or things that seem non-intuitive / not-obvious are just so like... integrated into our normal daily life that we don't even really remember or think about mentioning it? So its been a bit of a fun moment to sit and look at some people making weird assumptions, stretches, and just missing major things about living with DID because they don't live this life 24/7

I think its nice to open up conversations on stuff like this, and Moon Knights been pretty good for prompting topics and thoughts in our head including a fucking five day long trauma spike spell, but totally worth and totally fine /genuine/ and usually people without DID (especially people without trauma) rarely talk about trauma, abuse, and shit - and when they do they usually talk about it horribly - so I do like that some parts of the 'normie' /light hearted memeing/ parts of the world are actually having the concept of abuse brought into their backyard in a way they can digest. (though I will say much of the MK tags are full of people who obviously aren't survivors, which I'm glad they aren't but its kinda funny)

I think the thing from Moon Knight that - having sat on it and its ending for a while - I liked is that it the main impact / theme built by Marc having DID isn't that hes "quirky" or a "killer" or "uwu cool acting shots" which like yeah sure, its part of it - but the MAIN theme in my opinion is that Marc having DID makes him a vulnerable party and the amount of manipulation, gaslighting, and infantilizing that he gets as a result.

Because THAT there, is very real and a painful reality that most people without DID don't know, don't realize, and often forcefully stigmatize to say that no no no, people with DID are MORE dangerous.

Not having a completely memory file, not having continuous and coherent memory of who you are talking to and what you are doing, not having full and entire control of your life and body due to dissociated parts acting independently of 'your' wishes, having a long history of easily exploitable trauma and trauma-based coping that people who know could take advantage of, not always knowing who you are, looking overtly mentally ill and thus being assumed to be unable to make any valid judgements, etc etc. That shit is very very very real.

Its why a lot of people who went through childhood trauma and developed DID end up getting a long long wrap sheet of traumas throughout their life that extend far past childhood and even living at home. We got Harrow gaslighting gods, we had Gods completely infantilizing and looking down upon Marc for "not knowing his name" and shit, we had Harrow just straight up chronically gaslighting him, we have Khonshu over here just being well *motions to his piece of shit manipulative bird headass*. Like the ONLY character in the whole series to not take advantage of it is Layla (and Taweret), and shes confused as shit about it - and thats decently accurate imo.

That I think is what I appreciate the most from the series in the end of it. Anyways I'm always open to going on rambles and thoughts.

-Riku (Host)

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

Insania Ch. 2

Summary: A psychiatrist has to face the biggest challenge of her career so far. Malakai Black, the most enigmatic and yet dangerous patient at the Redemption Asylum. As time goes by, the doctor has to leave her skepticism behind if she wishes to understand the deep waters of Malakai’s mind.

Word Count: Long

Pairings: Malakai Black x OFC Dr. Calla

Warnings: +18, adult themed, mentions of mental illness, disorders and psychopathy traits, display of anger, violence and graphic description of murder

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @theworldofotps , @blxckestheart , @letsgivethisonemoreshot , @unusual-tomorrxw , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @rdhester1987 , @wrestlersownmyheart , @new-zealand-chic , @aerynscrichton , @thealliasylum , @crowleysqueenofhell , @sassymox , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @ava-valerie , @alliwant456

A/N: I’m not a doctor whatsoever and all the subjects approached on this fic are for plot reasons only. I’m in no way, shape or form affirming that anyone diagnosed with the mental illness mentioned in this fic have ill intentions or are criminals. I’m just using the diagnostics to construct the plot and create my version of Malakai’s character for this specific mini series since most of these mental traits can be found in psychopaths. If any of these themes offend or hurt you, please do not read it. Reminding you that to each chapter there’s a link to the song that inspired me to write, so you can add its meaning to the chapter as well. And last but not least, check out my Masterlist if you’d like to read some of my other works ❤️

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Prologue, Ch. 1

Duo

Inside the bright white room, Dr. Calla stood stoically across from Malakai as she studied his body language.

He was relaxed, prideful, and certainly felt like he was in control of the situation. Free from the handcuffs, he compared his feelings to those of a predator stalking its prey.

*Let’s see for how long* She thought to herself, already aware of how his reaction would be regarding the next subject.

Dr. Gibbs had jotted down notes about his cold behaviors - well, cold unless a specific subject was brought up.

“Nothing fuels Malakai’s anger more than the mention of her name” That’s what she scrambled on the small observation lines in his file.

Keeping her gaze glued to his, Dr. Calla stated:

“I’d like for us to talk about Anne”

His jaw clenched, and his eyes turned into voids of pure rage at the mere mention of those four letters.

“We’re not gonna talk about that”

“Why not?”

Malakai’s voice was almost inhuman as he growled “Because I fucking said so!”

Stepping away from the door, Dr. Calla took slow but firm steps towards his chair “And exactly what are we not going to talk about, Malakai?” The closer she got, the more she could see the rage in his eyes. “We’re not going to discuss how your wife cheated on you repeatedly with a gentleman named Matthew?”.

She was aware that this wasn’t the best (or most ethical) approach, but she’s been his doctor for over two months now and the man still hadn’t had any improvement. He didn’t want to talk about anything, didn’t share any information that might actually help his treatment and refused any kind of therapy activities. He just sat there, seven days a week, for two hours a day and toyed with her. Stared, made inappropriate comments, laughed…

And to say that Dr. Calla was growing frustrated was an understatement! She was exhausted to the point of desperation. And being at said point, her ethical worries had entered a gray area of sorts.

“Or that the reason you’re here is because you murdered her after brutally torturing her for four days?”

Malakai’s laugh was cold and frightening “You know nothing”.

Dr. Calla used the smidgen of energy she gained from his tantrum and chose to instigate him further. “Don’t I? Are you sure about that, Malakai? Are you sure I don’t know everything?”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He roared, but that was the exact reaction she was looking for, and continued in a stern voice.

“June 17th, 2019. You got home from work, parked your car in the garage and walked towards the front door. You heard screams coming from inside of your house-“

“SHUT UP!”

“Anne was screaming at the top of her lungs and it worried you. You lived in a farmhouse, distanced from everyone-”

“I already told you to Shut.The.Fuck.Up!” Malakai was unable to stay sitting still - the adrenaline from reliving that horrible day was kicking in, causing him to pace in circles.

“The closest neighbor was 4 miles away, so there was no way someone could’ve heard the screams and called the police-“

She was cut off by Malakai shoving his chair under the doorknob as a barricade, and then swiftly closing his hands around her neck before she could further react.

Malakai laid Dr. Calla’s upper body on the cold table, and with each word, his grip on her neck tightened, forcing the air out of her lungs.

“I walked in, thinking I would see my sweet little wife being murdered or raped, but oh no. It was only her fucking Matthew. They were so caught up in their fucking that they didn’t even see me come in” He laughed and leaned closer to her face “I went to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, walked back to the bedroom and stabbed Matthew in the neck”.

Dr. Calla could hear the security guard calling for code purple, which meant a patient had held someone from the staff hostage.

Her eyes instantly went to the window as the security guard ran to get help.

“No no no no, don’t look out there, sugarplum. Look right here” Malakai turned her gaze away from the window and back to him. “That’s it! Look at me when I’m talking to you! You wanted the full story, didn’t you, Doc? So, pay attention to me, baby”.

The wet feeling of his tongue licking stripes on her cheek made Dr. Calla wince in agony. He then dropped his voice to a whisper:

“I tied Annie to the bed, and dragged Matthew out to the woods. I cut off his balls before I split his cock into two pieces.” Malakai stopped and smirked before gathering some spit in his mouth to spread on Dr. Calla’s lips with his tongue.

When he leaned back, a thick string of saliva still connected their lips together, even as he talked.

“When I came back to the house, Annie passed out. So I did what every worried husband would do - I woke her up with a pan of boiling oil” He smiled widely “Then we began a fun little game that unfortunately only lasted four days. But they were the best four days of my life, Doc” He tsked his tongue in amusement at her shocked face “I bathed in her blood every night and it was delightful! Yes, it was sad that poor little Annie had to go, but she had it coming, didn’t she?”

His head tilted to the side as his blue eyes stared intensely, savoring every frightened feature on display to him.

“Her screams of agony still make me hard every, single, night. They still make me cum so much, even after all these years...What makes you think that I won’t bathe in your blood too, Doc? Maybe your screams can replace hers and serve me as an erotic audio for lonely nights”. Malakai smirked sadistically.

And suddenly, the deafening pressure in her ears from his vicious choking was the last thing she remembered, before everything became dark and silent.

[maplecornia]

chapter 39

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3.85K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: Hello everyone! I know I know, I kind of took a semi-hiatus without much warning and I apologize for that, things just got crazy all of sudden with homework and school and I had no chance to really tell you.

However, we are now back and I'm hoping to give more chapters very frequently! Since I'm working on planning out new ones the first few updates might be slower, but I WILL be uploading again.

Anyways, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the comeback!

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language | mentions of rape | childhood trauma | multiple forms of abuse | mentions of blood and injuries | toxic relationships

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx |@taradevonne | @rae-bear | @mangminnie | @pixiekooo (not taggable) | @cana | @eridanuswave

< Bang Sihyuk >

I didn't think things would be taken this far.

Holding my head in my hands I stare at the seven different profiles of seven different girls scattered across my desk. Each of them are talented in their own different way. Each of them were crafted and chosen in order to create a revolutionized kpop group. One made to hopefully break barriers and create a new globalized look for this industry. A plan that has been in motion ever since I first heard her voice, the one amid them all.

Yen.

My eyes narrow as her profile smiles up at me.

Name, Yen Lin.

Gender, Female.

Mother currently residing in Daegu, Korea.

Father deceased.

One sister living in America.

Talent, Vocalist.

Experienced in acting and writing.

Was formerly in a dance group named Universe located back in the States. Hopes to one day hone her lyricism and producing skills. Her hobbies include drawing and reading.

I run my hand over my face, as I push the profile away. She's filled with so much talent and promise, one of the main reasons I am fighting so hard for this. However...

Thoughts of the way Namjoon held on to her protectively during our first meeting, memories of Suga's outburst, and the look Jungkook had in his eye when he presented me with her voice. The pictures Jhope took with her, most rejected because of the clear intimacy, the secret glances I find Taehyung taking when she's not looking...

This is proving to be more troublesome than I originally thought.

And now...

-

"She's not ready!"

The outburst causes Park Jiwon's eyebrow to rise significantly. I try hard not to be intimidated, after all, I'm the one with the upper hand here, but it's hard considering the way he's staring me down. Standing from his place at the head of the meeting room, he picks up the file that was presented to him earlier this morning.

"May I remind you that you no longer have control of BigHit?" He mutters, but the warning is clear in his tone, as he flips through the papers. "This is not your decision to make."

I nearly growl at the clear insinuation, my hand tightening into a well-proportioned fist. If he thinks it's that easy to undermine my authority, he's wrong.

"I am still the chairman. Every group has to go through my approval." His jaw clench is subtle but enough to let me know I've hit a sore nerve. "Did you forget? You don't have full control of my company Jiwon."

When he turns to me once more, his expression is neutral but his eyes are as cold as ice. He places the profile on the table, leaning forward as though he were trying to make sure his words got through to me. "Maybe not, but I do have a say in who can debut or not."

I bristle, and he notices, a small smile breaking through his otherwise calm facade. In a swift motion, he pushes the file over to me, the contents spilling out quite messily on the polished marble. And there is Yen's profile bare and valuable for all the world to see.

"You went behind my back to acquire this Yen, you knew I would not agree with your decision and that's why you did it." I grit my teeth, he's not wrong, but somehow it's worse hearing it said out loud. "I'm not saying you don't have that right, I am perfectly aware of the balance of authority. However, my terms stand."

Tightening my jaw, I find myself staring at him against my better judgment. There's no doubt that he is perfect for the position I passed on to him. He's the perfect businessman, calm and collected, willing to overthrow and destroy anyone who might get in the way of his business or the way of its success. And now, he has extended that same treatment to BigHit, a company that I started and built. The thought grates at my nerves and makes everything worse in some way.

I know I made the right choice when I stepped down as CEO.

But this just makes things more complicated.

"If she is going to debut, she will first have to pass a preliminary test, just like every other trainee." I scoff at the statement, gesturing incredulously to the papers he's just scattered across the table.

"Yes, but unlike every other trainee, you are expecting her to perform in front of a live audience. In a position, she isn't even training for! Alongside the most renowned kpop group in the world!"

It's an impossible request.

To ask a child to perform when she's hardly been training for a week? The only artistic feat she has accomplished was modeling for those concept photos and even then it was with BTS, not something she did on her own. Perhaps people would know her from her dance group, but they have hardly a thousand followers at least!

If you put someone who people hardly even know, alongside a band that the whole world holds in high regard, what do you think is going to happen? Especially if this person is a girl, a foreign girl, an inexperienced girl who has been training alongside them this entire time?

"If she is as talented as you say she is, then this should be an easy feat. Besides, we are taking a great risk just to have her as a trainee, shouldn't she take one as well?" Jiwon stares at me with a calculating look, one that is unforgiving and ready to tear apart any misstep I might make to use to his advantage.

I won't be so easily swayed.

"You're setting her up to fail."

The expectations are too high, the risk is too fatal.

There are so many things that could go wrong, so many ways people would react. I know the way this industry works, I've been a part of it for the longest time, and the one thing I've struggled to keep my artists away from was this.

Scandals, rumors, the inescapable hatred.

I've seen the way it affects even the most veteran of artists, the way they struggle to push past it even when they know it shouldn't affect them anymore. And now, he wants to expose this girl, this trainee to that when she's hardly been a part of this company for more than a week?

"Really, Sihyuk, I thought you'd have more faith in your recruit. Wasn't it you who said she was worth the risk? Is she not as talented as you've described? Do you take back everything you said?" Jiwon scoffs as he settles back in his chair, shuffling other documents and papers and putting them in their rightful order.

Narrowing my eyes his way, I clench my fist even tighter.

"If you want to follow through with this plan, we have to make sure they are marketable first. I've read through the files, and I've seen how talented they are. But you know how this industry works. If we cannot make a good profit off of them, then they will fail before they've even started." He pauses for a moment before turning to me once more, his eyes hardened and cruel with the harsh reality the world has provided.

"This is necessary for their survival."

-

When the door opens, and she walks in, Namjoon close behind, I swallow hard.

If I'm being really honest, I know that Jiwon is right. Perhaps, I think his methods are a bit extreme, but that's one of the reasons I trusted him to take my position. Because I knew he could make the choices I didn't have the heart to carry out. I know this is necessary, I know this is preparing her for the backlash they will get if my plan does succeed.

But when she looks up at me, I can't help but wonder...

Is she ready?

"Where's Yen?"

When Taehyung enters the practice room, he isn't surprised to see Jungkook already there. He's been excited to start his first real vocal lesson with Yen for a while now, ever since they sang together after that meeting so long ago. It's all he's been talking about, sometimes he forgets to prepare for the comeback.

It would be cute if it weren't so annoying.

"She's on her way. BangPD and RM are really stressed about her evaluation that they've prioritized Yen's training over everything else."

Oh yeah.

Taehyung swallows hard as he remembers Jiwon's ultimatum. This morning BangPD was supposed to inform Yen about it.

Tae feels a bit guilty that she has to find out separately after it's already happened, but BangPD felt it best she didn't meet Jiwon just yet and Taehyung has to agree. Jiwon isn't like their former CEO, he's not an artist and doesn't let trivial things such as morals and ethical decisions get in his way of success. For a businessman, that's a redeeming quality trait, but for the artistic industry...

It's nothing more than an impairment.

"I can't blame them, I'd be surprised if they weren't stressed." Tae murmurs, leaning against the wall beside the door, completely unaware that it's held slightly ajar.

"I just feel bad for Jojo, now she has to fill in as Namjoon's assistant, and with her already hefty workload you can bet that won't be pretty."

At Jungkook's words, Taehyung leans his head back against the wall, staring dazedly at the dully painted ceiling. "Yeah..."

A performance with BTS.

It sounds like a dream doesn't it? Things even mere children would desire, things you may hope to one day achieve as a reward for all the hard work you've done, for all the struggles you've gone through. A chance to perform with an idol, a celebrity, a chance to show the world what you're made of and finally be seen.

Taehyung smirks almost cruelly to himself at the thought.

Ironic how they're considered the standard when they were once thought to be a failure.

Taehyung wonders just how humiliating it is for those who once doubted them to come up to them now and show respect. All those fake smiles and empty words...was any of it ever real enough to care about? Or was everything always made to be a mask? A painting to cover up everything else they struggled to hide along the way?

How did Yen feel when she heard about it?

Her evaluation.

A performance, as a backup dancer, with BTS.

Laughable isn't it? And yet, this is the situation they have gotten themselves into. One with incredible pressure, to excel in a position she isn't even training for just so she can continue to work towards her dream.

Glancing over at Jungkook, Taehyung wonders what he's thinking.

If he has the same dark thoughts.

If he's made the same conclusion Taehyung has.

"Jungkook."

Jungkook looks up at the sound of his name, turning to Taehyung with an innocent look on his face. It almost makes Taehyung lose his nerve and back down from asking the question. He doesn't want to doubt him, and he doesn't want to ruin their friendship. But he can't seem to move on until he knows. Swallowing hard, he bites his bottom lip before continuing.

"I've been wondering this for a while." Jungkook nods, taking a seat on one of the stools that have been placed in the center of the room. Between them lies a lone microphone, and on the other side is the one-way mirror-like glass where the producing studio lies. Nostalgia breaking through Taehyung's throat, he doesn't bother trying to look away as he asks the question that has been burning in the back of his throat for the longest time.

"Why were you so insistent on Yen becoming a trainee?"

You're so tired.

Trudging down the dull recurrent hallways, you grow weary of the shades of black and white. It hurts your head, the structured way they were all meant to look neutral and almost identical. As though you were stuck in a prison of your own making.

Shaking your head, you rub your temple at the budding headache.

Your thoughts are scattered, almost toxic and you know that you should forget about them, stop trying to grab at the strands and focus on what is right there in front of you.

You have no other choice.

But it's impossible with all the noise.

People telling you what to do, plans being made behind your back, a life that was meant to be yours now becoming tainted and molded into something that isn't yours. You're losing control day by day and you don't know how to stop it or fight against it.

How could they expect this from you?

Your legs suddenly growing weak, you have to pause, resting against the wall next to the studio door so that you can regain your strength. You want to give up, you want to let go, but you can't. It's like there's an invisible noose around your neck, strangling and stealing your freedom until you have nothing left.

Is this what you're meant to be now?

Is this what you're working so hard to become?

A doll for their enjoyment?

Tears speckling at your vision, you probably would have broken down right then and there if it weren't for the voices you hear behind the door. The same door that Taehyung accidentally left ajar. Wiping your eyes, you step forward, trying to focus on what they're saying.

"Tae...?" you mumble to yourself, your ears so familiarized with his tone that they can recognize his voice even in a crowded room. Your heart blossoming in warmth at the sound of his voice, you would have entered right then and there, if it weren't for what he says next.

"Why were you so insistent on Yen becoming a trainee?"

The silence that follows is almost suffocating. Jungkook stares at Taehyung with a veiled expression, but Tae doesn't back down. He meets the look with a level one of his own, awaiting his answer. Jungkook shakes his head, smiling a bit to himself.

"You know you could just ask." He mutters, and Tae's eyes widen at the response.

"What do you mean?"

Jungkook scoffs at the question, before leaning back in his chair and meeting Taehyung with daunting eyes.

"I wonder, what's your relationship with Yen?"

Taehyung tries to look unaffected, but with the way he swallows and avoids Jungkook's eyes, Jungkook already knows the answer to his question even if Tae isn't willing to admit it to himself.

"Don't change the subject." Taehyung answers instead, and Jungkook shakes his head incredulously.

"I'm not. It's just curious, why do you care about my involvement if something wasn't going on?"

From the way Taehyung flinches, his fist clenching at his sides, Jungkook knows he's hit a nerve. He wonders if he should push for more answers, but given the fact that Taehyung is unwilling to see the truth for himself, he decides to let things play out as they have been. Sighing, he rubs the back of his neck, trying to ignore the strange feeling erupting in his gut at the thought of Tae having feelings for Yen.

What should it matter to him if he likes her? Jungkook only sees her as a friend, an admiration. It doesn't concern him anyway.

But then again, their relationship doesn't concern Tae either.

"Don't worry Tae, I have no ulterior motive. There's nothing in it for me if I help her, and I'm not doing it because of my infatuation with her." Jungkook answers and you feel your heart skip a beat on the other side of the door. Before you have any time to ponder on that small revelation, however, Taehyung speaks up once more.

"Then why?"

You're curious as well and lean just a bit closer to the crack in the door, waiting to hear Jungkook's explanation.

What was it about you that prompted Jungkook to fight so hard for you to become a trainee? You think it's more than just your talent, there has to be some other reason.

"I don't know." Jungkook shrugs, smiling insignificantly as he spies the microphone standing alone in the center of the studio.

"When I heard her voice I just felt the need to share it, to show the world what she's capable of." You feel your heart warm from the inside out at the praise. The fact that someone recognized you and longed to share your voice with everyone around them touches you in a way you cannot possibly hope to describe. It makes you feel important, significant, and special. Almost as though you meant something after all. "I mean, you were there Taehyung, didn't you feel that way too?"

You flinch as you hear the words, the warmth fading as an icy chill takes over your body.

Taehyung...was there that day?

But Jungkook told you that he was the one who heard you that day, that he was the one who recorded your voice and sent it to BangPD. Why wouldn't he tell you that Taehyung was there as well? Why would he lie?

You try to ignore the roar that starts to rise in your ears and listen to the rest of the conversation. Maybe there was a reason they kept it from you, maybe there was a reason they lied. You can't just jump to conclusions based on one statement alone.

But the doubt that starts to erupt in your chest refuses to be ignored.

"No, I didn't."

At the brisk, almost bitter statement, it takes all you have not to drop to the floor, your head suddenly swimming and legs growing weak.

"What do you mean?" Jungkook is just as equally shocked. He can't believe that he was wrong, that he could have misunderstood Taehyung's feelings towards you.

Taehyung looks down at the ground in his guilt.

"Jungkook, that day I saved the song on impulse. I went after her to tell her that I heard her, maybe beg her to submit it to BangPD...I don't know. But in the end, I couldn't do it." It's true, he didn't feel the same way that Jungkook did.

His first thought wasn't to share your voice with everyone he could see, he didn't want to think of the thought of others hearing your voice or seeing what he saw that first time he met you on that bridge. He knows it was selfish, but he didn't want to lose you. He thought that if he gave you that flash drive if he presented you with that opportunity, you would leave him and never look back.

"I kept it to myself. If you weren't there, she would've never gotten a chance to pursue her dream."

He didn't want you to leave him.

"Why?"

Taehyung sighs at Jungkook's question, running his hands almost in frustration through his hair. Maybe if he regrets the decision enough that would make things right again, that would make his choices understandable. But if he's being honest, he doesn't understand them himself.

"I was selfish. I wanted to keep her to myself, I didn't want anyone else interfering." As he glances to his side, he sees that the door is ajar, and walks over to it to close it securely. He chuckles bitterly as he reaches it, knowing that the real reason he wants it shut is that he couldn't stand the thought of Yen overhearing. Even now, he wants to keep things from her for fear that she'll leave his side.

There is no one who hates Taehyung more than himself.

Especially in this moment and the ones to come.

"Do you want to know the worst part?" He scoffs as he opens it, glancing at Jungkook over his shoulder. "If I could go back, I probably would have done the same thing."

Before he can close the door and continue the conversation, however, he sees her.

Her eyes are wide and glossy with the sign of future tears breaking through their cage and spilling over on her cheeks. Her face is slack and she stands there, frozen even when the door has opened.

He doesn't know how to describe the expression on her face, filled with such misery and betrayal that it tears his heart to look at her knowing that he's the one who caused her to look this way. As her eyes raise to meet his, his soul shatters at the pain he sees in them.

The overwhelming amount of misery and dejection is almost too much to bear, but he refuses to look away, this is the least of what he deserves. And though he knows he can't be certain she's heard everything, he can see it in her eyes that she has, and that it's torn another chip at her already fragile heart.

Before he can say anything more, you turn and run down the hallway, unable to look at him for long. Even if he's able to look you in the eye, it's too much for you to stare at him for too long. It's too much to know that all this time you've been deceived. It's too painful to deal with the truth that you foolishly thought he cared for you, that he felt the same way you did.

That you broke your promise and got broken in return.

When you run away, Tae tries to follow you down the hallway, say something to let you know that he was stupid, that he didn't mean any of it, that he doesn't feel the same way as he did back then; but Jungkook grabs his arm, holding him back.

"Tae wait!" He shouts, as Taehyung struggles against his hold, the only thought on his mind is Yen and how he has hurt her.

"No! If I could just explain--"

The statement brings him back to the incident that occurred last night and Tae freezes at the memory of what her ex had said in justification of his actions. He nearly chokes at the similarity between the two of them and goes limp with loathing. All of his resolve now lost and replaced with regret and despondency, he stops struggling, his muscles going slack and his spirit dying with every passing moment.

"She'll give you time for an explanation soon," Jungkook murmurs softly, releasing his grip on Taehyung's arm. He can see that even if he wanted to, Taehyung won't run after her for it would probably hurt her more. Taehyung never meant to hurt her, and Jungkook understands. He sees his desperation and he understands the reason for it. But he knows that nothing Tae could say now would save whatever they had. That would take time. "Right now, give her some space."

But what Jungkook doesn't know is that the space between the two of you has now grown so cataclysmic that you may never be able to stand beside him the same way ever again.

And that thought scares Taehyung as much as it petrifies you.

note: such a hard downfall after such a great revelation last time we were here! ;-; hehe ik i love tearing apart people's hearts. Anyways, wonder how this is gonna turn out. Misunderstandings are always so beautiful aren't they ^^

chapter 40 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

[reidisreading]

Sleep Deprivation - Spencer Reid x Reader

Writing Prompt: Spencer Reid is so sleep deprived he doesn’t notice his actions and accidentally crosses a line with reader. Reader ends up being abducted by unsub and Spencer has to make a choice towards his feelings to reader.

POV: Third Person POV but following certain characters.

Spencer Reid with they/them Reader

Type: angst with fluff at the end

warnings / trigger warnings: abduction, mentions of killing, subtle mentions of some sort of mental illness, reader gets hurt physically (punching, etc.), mild cursing.

*author note* Hi, this is my first story and I just wanted to get it out of my google drive page. I didn’t proofread this at all so there’s probably plenty of mistakes (if there is just tell me). I promise future stories will be a lot better than this. 

*word count: 4,100*

To the outside world, Spencer Reid was the perfect person in control of all aspects of his life. 

The problem with Spencer Reid was that he was too smart and active for his own safety. He struggled with sleep deprivation among other things that made it hard for him to keep track of himself. At this exact moment he was struggling with holding six hours of sleep in the last three days. He knows the dangers, he sees statistics, but when he closes his eyes all he can do is see Y/N in danger like in their last case and he can’t go through that. Not again, not when he was the one that found them all bloodied and almost unconscious. This was Spencer’s third cup of coffee in just that morning and the clock hadn’t turned to seven thirty, yet. He finished the last sip and rushed out the door to head to the subway, his hatred for driving now a good thing with his exhaustion getting in the way. A buzzing came from his satchel as he got on his seat, the subway less full than usual. SSA Hotchner Calling 

“Good morning.” Reid’s husky voice shone through the speaker. 

“Good morning, Reid, we have a new case in California, how far away are you?” Hotch said anxiously.  

“Twenty five minutes away, including the walk.” Reid says confidently. 

“Okay, head straight to the bullpen on your way in. We have no time to waste.” Hotch says before hanging up the phone. Reid finished reading the book he started that same morning and moved on to the second book he had stashed in his bag on his way out. 

“Platform-.” He wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings as he got off the cart and walked towards his job. The smell of the station made his nose hurt as he remembered previous cases of ill intent people doing foul things to their surroundings. 

Get it together, Reid. You can’t walk in there distracted, they’ll know something is wrong. You can’t have Penelope and JJ worried all over you. You especially can’t have Y/N worried for you, you need to keep your head leveled around them. 

It was probably easy to guess that their last case had taken the hardest toll on Spencer. His feelings for Y/N making it difficult to concentrate when the unsub had taken them as a means to keep the FBI scared. Spencer had spent most of his time away in a small office hunched over papers and profiles trying to get them back. 

“Good morning, Doctor Reid.” The receptionist greeted the young doctor. 

“Good morning!” Spencer said in a matched tone. He walked to the elevator, hitting the familiar key without looking at it at all. 

Okay, you need to wake up and be alert. No dozing off like you’ve been doing today. You have a job to do, people are counting on you. Spencer repeated the same words to himself like a mantra until he saw the clear doors to the BAU main office. 

Penelope Garcia POV

We have a tablet for Hotch, Rossi, JJ, Emily, of course, Chocolate Thunder, and using paper we have Spencer Reid and Y/N Y/L/N. They would be so cute together, those two. I know I could find a way for Hotch to let them be together if only they would admit their feelings for each other, this is ridiculous. It’s very obvious to everyone but those two that they’re the perfect match made. Ironic how the two smartest people to enter this building are too oblivious to notice this. If I had a nickel for every time-

“How we looking, Baby Girl?” Morgan interrupted Garcia from her ramble. 

“Like I’d rather be watching something where someone doesn’t die.” She answered annoyed. 

“Don’t we all?” He shook his head as he took his tablet, scanning some of the images, the flash of hurt running through his facial features like a marathon. 

“Okay, we’re just waiting for Reid but he should be here any second.” Hotch says stressed while sitting down. The rest of the team, sans Reid, pile into the room taking their respective seats. Everyone opens their files on their tablets while Y/N scans through their paper folder. 

“Where is Pretty Boy?” Morgan asked looking directly at Y/N as if they would know anything; thankfully Y/N was too focused on the case in front of them to pay any attention. 

“Stop it.” Garcia whispered to him. Morgan looked at her and laughed while shaking his head. 

It’s safe to say that the entire team knew that those two were crushing on each other, they had that energy about them. 

Garcia got up from her seat, ready to direct the team along JJ on their latest case when the Boy Genius walked into the room in a hurry, his satchel already in his hands ready to be removed from his body. 

“I’m sorry, there was a minor mishap and- not important, sorry.” He said while moving towards his seat which was conveniently next to Y/N’s. He stopped next to them, giving them a light kiss on the head before moving to his seat, the small action causing everyone in the room to fall into a heavy silence. He didn’t seem to notice this small movement as he continued on with his regular routine of taking everything off to focus on the file in front of him. “What’s going on in California?” He asked looking up at Garcia, only to notice her stunned expression. “What?” He asked looking at the rest of the team, noticing their silence and awkward glances at each other. The only one not looking at anyone in particular was Y/N. 

“Nothing.” Garcia said while turning around to look at the slide show. 

“Family in California was brutally murdered in their home. Father was moved away from them, from the shows of it, it seems to have been postmortem.” Garcia says while looking at JJ frantically. 

“Two children were left in the closet- I’m sorry, I can’t do this. Reid, what was that?” Hotch asked while he asked JJ to pause the slideshow and turned to look at one of the two younger members of the team. 

“Hotch, no.” Garcia whispered. He’s going to ruin everything! No! We FINALLY have something that officially indicates one of them feels something. 

“I-I don’t understand?” Reid says confused. 

“Pretty Boy coming out of his shell.” Morgan chuckles. 

“What?” Reid asks, still confused. 

“You just kissed Y/N.” Emily says sliding closer to him. 

“I did what?” Reid asked with a raised tone. 

“Reid, what’s going on?” Rossi asks. 

“I don’t- I don’t know.” Reid said genuinely concerned.

“You look tired.” Emily said, “well, I mean, more than usual.” She says worried. 

“I mean, I haven’t really slept but it’s not that bad.” 

“How much is ‘not that bad’?” Hotch asks. 

“Six.” Reid whispered. 

“Six hours daily?” Hotch presses. 

“The last three days.” Reid finishes. 

“Reid, no.” Emily says sadly. 

“Can we get back to the case?” Reid asks, the entire room shifting energy. Y/N staying quiet as possible. It didn’t slip anyone’s notice that Y/N didn’t try to move from Reid, it was almost like they were shifting closer to him. 

“Okay, uhm, two children were left in the closet, their hands tied behind their back and their mouths covered with electrical tape. It seems like most of the extra things the unsub did were postmortem because the children were tied and silenced after this unsub killed them.” Garcia said. 

“The mom seems to have had the most anger targeted. She had leisure wounds around her neck and wrists, but that’s not what killed her. She was drowned in the bathtub, and it seems he may have stabbed her multiple times postmortem, too.” Y/N says as they go through their own file. 

“Maybe they had a bad relationship with a maternal figure and they’re looking for ways to get back at her.” Rossi says. 

“Any reason why the unsub may have targeted this family?” Hotch asks. 

“None that I’ve found yet, sir.” Garcia answers. 

“Okay, wheels up in thirty. Reid, I need to talk to you privately.” Hotch says as he dismisses the team. 

Arron Hotchner I will have a word with you.

Spencer Reid POV

“I need you to stay at the base for this one.” Hotch says automatically. 

“What? No, I can’t.” Reid replies. 

“Yes. What happened there is only a glimpse of what can happen in the future, Reid. I cannot take the risk with the rest of the team. You stay here, work the case, and rest up. Sleep deprivation can cause memory loss and you’re already seeing the side effect. I can’t put you or others in danger.” 

“Hotch, please.” Reid whispers. 

“Y/N will be okay, I promise Reid.” Hotch said sternly. 

“That’s not-.” Reid cut himself short. 

“Your job now is to stay here and look at everything we can’t. Come up with theories. I have to go.” Hotch starts to walk away, “and I want you to get home at a reasonable time to sleep. I need you in future cases.” He finishes, walking towards the last of his paperwork and walks out of the room. Reid looks around the room and spots Penelope at the door, trying (and failing) to look inconspicuous. 

“Let’s go Pen.” Reid calls out to her and picks up his own file. 

“Reid, I don’t think Y/N-.”

“Pen, please.” Reid stops mid track, “I’m not allowed to go and I’m already exhausted as it is. Please, let’s just focus on this.” He says to her as he turns around and comes face to face with Y/N. “Hi.” He whispers. 

“Hi.” 

“Are you- is everything okay?” He hushes. 

“Yeah, I just came to say bye to you both. We’re on our way out.” Y/N replies looking at Reid like a fragile doll, if they moved too fast, he may break. 

“Be safe.” He says, almost so quiet they miss it. 

“Always am.” Y/N replied with a smile, “see you, Pen.” They waved at each other before Y/N finally walked away from them. 

“Oh you’re smitten to the T.” Penelope teased. 

“Penelope Garcia, there’s a room we need to get to and have no time to talk nonsense.” Reid said frustrated. 

“Oh, we can most definitely talk while we’re in there mister Doctor Genius.” She giggled walking away from him. 

“No, Penelope.” He says in a rushed tone as he jogs behind her. 

————————

“Hello my furry friends, what can I do ya for?” Penelope asked in an enthusiastic tone. 

“I need you to give me any and all financial statements about this family. Down to what they spent money on leisurely.” Hotch said not bothering to comment on her strange wording. 

“Anything I should be looking for?” She asked. 

“Yes, anything that may have been spent on from time to time. No cycle, something that if anyone looking wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow.” Emily pipes in. 

“Reid?” Y/N called out, Reid’s cheeks automatically turning a bright red, he’s ears matching. 

“Yeah?” He asked in a high pitched tone before clearing his throat, calling out to them again, “how can I help?” He asked. 

“I found some letters and cards and they look like different people wrote them but I need you to read in between the lines and assign who wrote which letter.” Y/N said picking up the different notes and holding them to the camera, “I’m going to have JJ scan these and send them to Pen, if she could please do the rest so I can have a detailed explanation of the potential unsub.” They finished explaining. 

“Yeah, I’ll have them finished for you as soon as I can.” Reid said confidently. 

“Thanks Spence.” The team said their goodbyes. 

“Oh you’ve got it bad, Lover Boy.” Penelope said through giggles. 

“I don’t know what that means.” Reid said uncomfortably. 

“That Y/N called you ‘Spence’ and you just about melted.” She teased. 

“That’s not true.” 

“Oh come on! When are you going to just get it over with and ask them out?” Penelope asked in a serious tone. 

“Never, they don’t like me and I probably made them uncomfortable today with something I don’t even remember doing.” He fiddled with his pencil. 

“Have you asked them?” 

“No.”

“Then, you don’t know.” Penelope finished turning back to her computers seeing the files JJ sent, “Come on Boy Genius, your future significant other has work for you.” She said excitedly. 

—————————

“Reid, another family was murdered twenty minutes ago, do you have anything that could lead us?” Hotch stressed. 

“Yes, it seems all these families have in common is their religious beliefs and where they do grocery shopping.” He said going through his own paperwork. 

“Those are two completely different things.” Emily said. 

“No, because all three families come from the same neighborhood, down to the same economic standard. That means they all went to the same place of prayer and they all shop from the same places. It goes down to us having already interviewed the unsub.” Y/N says, paper shuffling is heard by Garcia and Reid as Y/N moves around the room with the rest of the team. 

“They’re right. We concluded that the unsub is a white male in their mid twenties who comes from a household deprived of a mother figure or a divorce household. From the way the murders are being done, it shows they have a previous criminal record with small crimes, maybe petty theft or something big like sexual assault.” Reid goes on. 

“In that case, we have only interviewed twenty people. Garcia, can you narrow down the list?” Hotch asked. 

“You must be new here.” She says with an eye roll. 

“Keep us updated.” Emily smiles. 

“Stay safe.” Reid says, everyone knowing he’s truly directing it to one person, “all of you, stay safe.” He covers up before hanging up. 

Jennifer Jareau’s POV

“Hey, Y/N?” JJ had wanted to speak with Y/N since they got out of the bullpen but for one reason or the other never got the chance. 

“Hey, JJ.” Y/N smiled at the blonde. 

“I know what Spencer did today was out of norm. Are you okay?” She asked. JJ knew neither of the Doctors were big on being touched unless they initiated it. 

“I’m okay.” The young Doctor assured her. 

“Can I ask you something?” JJ started, “I’m probably way out of line and you don’t have to answer but…” She started off testing the water, she kept an eye on Y/N making sure they weren’t uncomfortable at any moment, “do you like Spencer?” JJ finished. 

The words coming out of their mouth wasn’t what gave them away, it was the way their cheeks and neck flared up in red pigmentation as their hands dropped the small cup of coffee they were holding, which had thankfully been empty. 

“What? No, that’s- JJ, I do not like anyone.” Y/N stammered and failed to control their movements. 

“Oh, I’m so glad to have asked you instead of Penelope.” JJ started laughing. 

“I do not like… JJ it is wrong to make assumptions of others. It’s- JJ, no.” Y/N continued. 

“Babe, it’s okay. Everyone and their mom’s can see that you and Spencer have a thing. For being the two smartest people I know… you’re both very daft.” JJ said sweetly. 

“I actually don’t think he likes me, JJ. I noticed that his behavior towards me changed into a more protective one after we finished the case. I think he’s guilty because he was meant to stay with me and we got separated.” Y/N said sadly. 

“You cannot possibly be serious.” JJ questioned. 

“I am.” Y/N retorted. 

“That man is in love with you.” 

“No.” Y/N said as they picked up the empty cup they’d previously dropped. “Anyway, we need to finish this before anyone else dies.” 

“Y/N…” 

“Hotch is waiting.” Y/N left the small room. 

When JJ walked outside, the rest of the team was doing a video call with Garcia and Reid. Y/N was busy looking through a stack of papers while Garcia gave more information about the possible unsub. 

“Hey Y/N?” Spencer spoke up once Garcia finished.

“I’m here.” Y/N left the stack of papers next to them as they paid close attention to Reid. 

Reid cleared his throat twice before he started detailing the information he’d found, “it seems like three people wrote those letters. It wasn’t easy to figure out because the same person switched through hand writings quite easily. So, unless you were looking for it, you wouldn’t have seen it.” Reid finished while holding up the letters now filled with side notes. 

“Thanks, Spence.” Y/N smiled at him before picking up the stacks, “that actually narrows down the unsub to four different people.” They picked up a folder one by one and handed it off to others. 

“Garcia, tell us anything on Tony Carter.” Hotch asks. 

While Garcia was telling them all the smallest details she could find to Tony Carter, Spencer and Y/N both went over the notes again. 

“It’s Jared Tall.” They said in unison. 

“Babies, you can’t just bring out the genius in the middle of my genius.” Garcia said annoyed. 

“How do you know?” Hotch asks the both of them. 

“The notes.” Spencer said like it was obvious. 

“It did catch me off guard how this one was written, but it says Jared Tall.” Y/N said like it was no big deal as they pointed at the small details that brought out the name Jared Tall. 

Y/N’s POV

“Hotch, I’m by the south exit. There’s fresh tracks. I think he’s here.” Y/N told their supervisor. 

“Don’t go in without backup. He’s incredibly dangerous and will take out anyone in his place.” Hotch directed. 

“Copy.” Y/N finished replying when they felt a sharp pain come across their temple making them crash against the ground. The cold surrounded them as did darkness. 

Morgan’s POV

“Morgan, I need you to go to the south exit with Y/L/N. They said there’s fresh tracks and that’s dangerous.” Hotch directed. Morgan didn’t answer and just moved to the exit his supervisor had appointed him to. 

“Hotch, Y/L/N isn’t here.” Morgan said through the radio. 

“What?” Hotch asked. Derek didn’t need the radio to hear his directions towards the rest of the team. 

“Their radio is here, Hotch.” Morgan turned around to face him. 

“They couldn’t have gone too far. I gave them directions two minutes ago.” Hotch said while looking around. He turned his radio on and directed everyone to meet at the front of the abandoned cabin. “I need everyone in a group of three. Dogs need to go with you. Y/L/N has intensive knowledge on how to get out of hostage situations but there’s blood on the floor and they may be unconscious now. There’s a likelihood that the unsub took Y/L/N to the same location he has the rest of his victims, if that’s the case he’ll have two children. You need to be extremely careful and vigilant. We have until sundown.” Hotch dismissed everyone Morgan staying behind with him as Hotch called Garcia. 

“Genie in a lap. You have three wishes.” Garcia said in her usual chirpy voice. 

“Is Reid with you?” Hotch asked. 

“No. He went out to get us lunch.” Garcia said as the blood ran cold through her veins, “sir, please don’t tell me that I have to tell Boy Wonder that the person he’s in love with and he doesn’t even realize loves him back, has been kidnapped again.”

“Y/L/N what?” Hotch and Morgan could hear Reid from the other end of the line. 

“He knows.” Garcia whispered on the line. 

“Reid, I’ve got every agent and officer looking for them. They’ll be okay.” Hotch promised. 

“I’ve heard that before.” Reid said darkly. 

“I’ll call with any updates.” Hotch hung up. 

Y/N POV

I’ve got a concussion for sure. Okay, and one broken rib. I can’t open my eyes or move, definitely blindfolded and hands are tied. Probably underground. By the voices near me there’s two children here as well.  

“The fucking FBI. Fuck.” There was pacing around the room. Only one set of feet were moving around. “If you scream, I kill them.” The unsub said. Not knowing what to do, Y/L/N just nodded. “This wouldn’t have happened if that bitch had just ran away with me.” He continues. 

“Who, Jared?” Y/N asked calmly. 

“Patty!” Jared shouted. “She had to stay with her stupid perfect family. What about me?” He kept shouting uncontrollably. 

“This isn’t your fault Jared. She didn’t deserve you.” 

“You’re right. She had to pay.” Jared kept pacing. 

“Jared, I need you to do me a favour.” Y/N approached. “You need to let the children go. They’re innocent in all of this, just as much as you are.” The added in the end. 

“They’re right, Jared. The children are innocent.” Y/N heard Morgan say evenly. “They’re just as innocent as you. They’d never hurt anyone, just like you.” Morgan approached. Y/L/N could now hear him walking near them. Something must have happened in the ten seconds that there was complete silence, because all Y/N heard after that were three gunshots and suddenly they were being untied. “It’s Morgan, you’re okay, Y/N.” Morgan whispers to them. 

“The children.” Y/N whispers. 

“JJ’s got them.” Morgan replies. 

“I’ve got a broken rib.” Y/N tells him. 

“Anything else?” Morgan asks as he lifts them from the entrance. 

“Nothing I can feel as of now.” They reply surely, “Morgan, Reid is-.”

“He knows you were taken. He’s not happy at the moment.” Morgan replies. 

“Where’s Hotch?” 

“We found another child near here and he’s been assisting on that.” 

“This wasn’t his fault. None of us could have known.” They tell Morgan. 

“Tell that to your lover boy. He’s pissed.” Morgan laughs as he sets them on the bed of the ambulance. 

“He’s not my-.” Y/N starts saying before getting interrupted. 

“He’s in love with you. That makes him Lover Boy.”

Morgan teases. 

“I cannot wait for you to no longer be single.” Y/N teases him. 

“Right back at ya, Pretty Face.” Morgan flicks his finger against their chin and walks away; allowing the first responder to assess their wounds. 

Y/N had to get checked at the local hospital, the rib that had fractured was making it painful for them to breathe and couldn’t wait to get checked in Quantico. 

To say the ride back was long and uncomfortable was an understatement. They’d spend two extra days in California and that was two days too long. 

“You get to see your mans today.” Morgan teased. 

“Hotch, Morgan is being annoying.” Y/N said loudly. 

“Did you just tattle on me?” Morgan asked in mocked surprise. 

“And I’ll do it again.” Y/N said confidently. 

“Behave or I’ll ground you both.” JJ said sternly. Once the jet landed, all their teasing suddenly vanished. Garcia and Spencer were waiting for them at the entrance of the BAU floor. No one said anything as they all hugged each other, Y/N keeping their distance from the team as Spencer gave the rest of the team a small half hug trying not to be rude as his family came in contact with his arms. The all unsubtly excused themselves, giving Spencer and Y/N some privacy. 

Something changed inside Spencer when he found out that Y/N had been abducted. Something shifted, it was like he finally understood he could no longer pretend and show a façade every time he was around them. 

Gravity was working differently now, or maybe it was their legs, neither of them were sure which it was. They crossed the small space between them as Y/N crashed against Spencer’s arms; the world just that much lighter now that neither of them were holding anything in. Spencer held them so tightly he was sure he was going to turn them into dust. 

“Wait, your rib-.” Spencer started. 

“Shh.” Y/N pulled away further from him as they grabbed him by his sweater vest and their lips finally met. 

There was cheering in the near distance but they both pretended they didn’t know what was going on behind them. 

Spencer pulled away for a second causing Y/N to give him a slight pout, “go on a date with me?” Spencer finally asked. 

“Only if you go back to kissing me.” Y/N replied, Spencer attaching their lips together before Y/N could even finish the sentence. 

[doctorguilty]

ALLEGEDLY Ghostface's lore tome 13 leaked, which if you're so inclined you can download here. it's 10 audio files

I spent the last uh, however long it's been on discord liveblogging each entry to my sister with a summary and my interpretations/opinions so if you're interested! under readmore. Spoilers obviously. bear in mind this is an alleged leak and could be fake I have no idea

these are just copy pasta'd discord messages so don't expect them to be organized

What I'm hearing so far, is that Danny's father was a war veteran who told his son gruesome war stories when he was young and like fucked him up with vicarious ptsd

okay so basically the 1st entry (with the war dad stuff) ends with this notion Danny is fucked up because the "scary stories" (as his dad presents them as) he's being told were real people who didn't deserve to die. while this makes him appreciate being alive, it also disturbs him greatly (the lore doesn't mention vicarious trauma but as a person who knows about that it very much would be that in a clinical sense) and he doesn't know how to make like, the intrusive thoughts it gives him go away. again this is not written as intelligently but as a Mentally Ill I am gleaning that

and 2nd entry starts to explain his motivations for murdering and writing stories about it as a fucked up means of coping by sort of like, continuing the cycle of inflicting that shock over "anyone could die at any moment". he deliberately picks the most average, relatable people to kill. no one with a criminal history or anything people could be confused with a motivation of hatred or deserving death.

so, weird to go the ptsd/sympathetic killer angle with this character but since that's where we started nowhere to go but forward. so I don't hate the 2nd entry. I level with that, I like that. like if we ARE doing the ptsd thing, then may as well be deeper than "and then he became the joker"

going to #3.. we get this flashback of Danny in college in which he takes an anthropology class and feels super cynical about humanity and for every point the professor talks about like, the intrinsic goodness and creativity of humanity, Danny believes peace is a façade and humanity is intrinsically destructive and there's a potential killer behind every person's mask. a little Edgy but backs this with these notions of like, for every great invention humanity makes they also make tanks and bombs etc, his father would say "10 days of bloodshed for every 1 day of peace" . again I wish they chose something other than War (tm) for this but like, also don't hate it so he's fucked up in childhood by his father sharing inappropriately gruesome stories about war, ends up believing there's no such thing as a truly good person, anyone can snap at any moment true enough like I'm nodding my head

war aside, the "anyone could be the killer" is a theme in the scream franchise, there's no one ghostface and in the end the killer(s) are people the protagonists knew and trusted in some way

so like, okay yeah, i think the anthropology class as the vehicle to express that is Edgy but it still aligns with things thus far

#4 flashes back to him stalking a victim through their window watching the news. there's a tidbit about how there's 10 horror stories for every 1 feelgood story on the news. people gain an appreciation the bad stories aren't about them from the safety of their own home. the media gains an audience by activating people's adrenaline and fear etc. Also adds lore that Danny's poor and cant afford to fix his car and whatever, which is where it throws in the motivation to like create stories to write and get a paycheck. so like, tying that all together like the media's relationship with headlines and captivating their audience, him wanting and needing an audience etc

fair enough nodding to that entry even if it's heavily on the nose

5 goes on to describe Danny planning to kill the man he's stalking, about how meticulously he knows his routine and will use said routine to perfectly kill him, he spends a lot of time visualizing the kill like he's practicing in his head. tidbit about how the last news story the man watched was about some guy in Roseville getting killed in an escalator and the man must be grateful it wasn't him, etc. ends on a cliffhanger implying something unexpected happens after breaking into the house

the unexpected thing in #6 is danny sees an indie newspaper on the kitchen table in which someone did like a parody article about him and he feels super offended and humiliated. The implication about his hatred of parody seems to be like, it offends him that people don't take the horrors of death seriously, and his passion in life is the stories he creates, they're "designs" to him (they use the word design a lot for some reason but seems to have an artistic connotation), and they're supposed to make people grateful, not laugh.

his emotions get the best of him feeling really sick about the newspaper and it fucks things up, making the timing of a noise wrong and the victim enters the kitchen at the wrong time, danny isn't prepared anymore and he's hiding in the pantry, but the man approaches the pantry and danny's like begging internally for him not to open it because he doesn't want to kill out of his own emotions and like outside his artistic vision

enjoying this because while I didn't expect the hatred-of-parody thing, this very much aligns with my explicit headcanon his murders are literally works of art. like super vindicating against the fandom being like, ghostface kills cause he's a sexy badboy daddy dom sjkfdsg I mean taking a step back from that fact that this itself is a work of fiction, as a true crime hater I am super disgusted when people make light of serial killers so as a "real person" ghostface is like, disgusted in the same way (except he's the killer)

which is funny cause its like DON'T YOU CARE THE PEOPLE i killed ARE REAL PEOPLE

it's not that he hates comedy its that it's not the message he was trying to send or the feeling he wanted people to feel

#7 he goes around to the news paper boxes that existed in the 90s and collects all the parody papers. he then waits outside the post office to see who goes to the PO box associated with the publisher because he doesn't want more of these to be published (so like killing the publisher we can assume). Tidbit about how the parody of him is insulting because he's like, doing the city a favor by making them more grateful to be alive despite how mundane their suburban lives (so less The Joker here and more like, "people don't appreciate that to be bored is a privilege" type of thing, which is actually an incredibly real viewpoint war vets have over what it means to have peace that regular people don't have perspective over. a little pleasantly surprised the war vet thing is making thematic sense ) weird line about how he hates being laughed at like his father was laughed at..? needs elaboration

whoa okay #8 is like … Danny is stalking the 3 publishers of the parody paper, they're like spoiled trust fund kids doing this with funds from their parents and they're currently dicking around drinking and playing video games and stuff.

oh I neglected to mention in one of the previous entries, the man (named michael iirc) doesnt open the pantry and danny is relieved he doesn't have to kill him. there was also a few lines about how danny loves choosing people with the most mundane, relatable names possible

this becomes relevant again as the publishing group is composed of Pete, Tom, and Bradley. Danny thinks their names are perfect, the kind of names that would be characters in a feel good movie about boys going to war and returning as heroes without a single scratch on them. but in real life, that's not how it works. Pete and Bradley die horrible deaths and Tom comes home alone to a society that views him differently after killing. Danny's father hated those types of movies because they were propaganda

#9 is kind of strange. Danny's planning his kill and gives himself brain damage pissing himself off by listening to the boys talk about horror movies and get all the details wrong and boast about how "they could make a better movie" and he's like fuck these kids their movie would be shit. he then goes into the back room to prepare for his planned kill in exactly 22 mins knowing from stalking that's when the boys will be done playing a game yknow #justghostfacethings. there's like goofy parody doodles all over the walls of his "favorite killers throughout history". unclear if this is (in universe) real killers or fictional ones from movies, doesn't say. this throws him off (similar to one of the previous entry when he sees the parody newspaper for the first time), seems to actually give him an anxiety attack he tries to calm down from. the line "you don't mock legends" repeats several times. he's unable to calm down.

I feel like this could use some more elaboration…? but it's like in line with the rest of the lore at least I'm thinking maybe the bit about legends is meant to imply his "favorite killers" fictional or not, are like artistic inspirations to him because horror stories make people feel the feelings his own art is trying to invoke, so by mocking those characters/killers, they are mocking his idols/their work/his work makes the art of ghostface being a slut for all the killers in dbd really fun cause like. that lines up. I bet if he did meet Michael Myers he'd want his tits autographed

okay so .. in the last entry, Danny does have sort of a black out emotional attack moment where he sort of "wakes up" from it with a knife in one of the guys faces he stabbed a billion times. recollects himself trying to figure out who it is and who is left alive. Also remembers that he tore all the drawings off the walls and left his mask behind in the room so he's killing mask off. and he's like, you know what this is fine. I'm not crediting this to the ghost face because this isn't something the ghost face would do. hands the knife to tom (severely injured and cant fight back). says a bunch of mocking things like "not so funny now is it?" and then asks tom for his input on what he'd like the headline to be about like, why did you kill your friends was it a prank gone wrong? was it all the beer and video games? etc. ends with tom just dying and no conclusion for what Danny will write which is like disappointing but I do like the framed for murder thing

there is a very brief flashback of Danny killing his dad in the woods, there's little detail other than an implication the dad was talking to his son like someday you're gonna go to war and bring back stories and Danny just like snapped and killed him in an emotional fit.

I very much enjoy this split of persona, this notion "this ghost face doesn't kill because he's emotional he kills so you're grateful its not you" while Danny is incredibly emotional, like unexpectedly to me. while I did hc his ghostface sona to be a separate entity from him, I pictured Danny being on the less-emotional end of the spectrum, but that's because I wasn't expecting the ptsd stuff

but also ending there is disappointing because it doesn't really bring us to present day like, he's presumably working as Jed at the Roseville gazette , since this all takes place in Roseville but there's no mention of Jed. I also wish it went more into his playful side, this whole thing is a focus on the Trauma all in all its actually pretty coherent for what it is, confirms some of the hcs I had about him, surprises me with some stuff, but I cant say anything about it ruins him I liked the idea of him just being a fucked up guy whos a narcissist but I don't mind him being jigsaw killer adjacent dreading how so much of this is gonna go over everyone's head and he's gonna be characterized as Rick Sanchez and the joker's lovechild

[chinchillinbb]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭

rating: t warnings: strong language word count: 929 requested: no summary: after a long day at work, you come back to your cat, who, after a year of being cursed by an eldritch deity whose name you can't pronounce, can now talk. and boy, is he snarky.

You blew a puff of hot air into the back of your already frozen car. Winter had decided to not only bare its teeth this year, but clamp firmly down onto any exposed skin. This was especially unfortunate when you worked in a combination bookstore/coffee shop. Lots of coffee orders, and no working heater because “the humidity is bad for the books”.

The one upside of working here was the pay. The owners knew the working conditions were only for the strong willed, especially during the winter, and took pity, along with offering a free coffee on your break. That meant you could afford to take care of a cat, which made your days infinitely better.

Today? Not even your fluffy orange cat, Squish, could restore your energy. You walked through the door before taking off your wet boots and throwing your extra 2 layers onto the floor with a grumble and a half. The space heater you bought at a garage sale 2 years ago was still chugging along, but you didn’t have it up very high while you were at work. Just because your pay was good didn’t mean that you were about to get freaky with your electric bill.

Finally wrapped up in a thick blanket, with the heater and some fluffy socks both on, you could cuddle with Squish. “How’s your day been, babes?”

“Fucking miserable. You?”

You froze. (Figuratively.) Maybe the hypothermia was getting to you. Could hypothermia make you hallucinate? Maybe you were mentally ill. File that away in your brain for a later Google search. But what kind of crazy person was gonna look at their normal, totally not talking cat, and ask them to do it again? You. “Hey Squish, I know you don’t like, talk, but um… on the off chance that you do, could you do it again?”

“Yeah, trust me, it’s been a real doozy having to keep my trap shut while you stumble around like an idiot, burning pasta and banging your hip into the table making dinner. Alas, it’s been 1 life since the beginning of my sentence, and now I can finally articulate just how dumb that shirt does make you look.”

While you were busy floundering at the revelation that your cat could, in fact, talk, and had strong opinions about your wardrobe choices (much less the fact that they’d somehow already lost a life), Squish was audibly sighing and groaning about how stupid you were, and how all cats are superior, and how they “might not even want to change back at this rate.”

“So… I mean, is this a thing all cats do? You sorta mentioned a punishment or a, um, a sentence, or something? Oh my god, I don’t have the money for a mental hospital, much less schizophrenia medication.” You lamented your issues, and wondered if maybe you had imagined your cat all along. Maybe they’d never actually been real.

Squish spoke up before you could panic more, “Okay, okay, chill. Not all cats are as great as me, no. I’m a special case. You know how Arachne got turned into a spider? I angered an eldritch being, and got bippity boppity booped into a house cat. Something about the experience being humbling, but to be honest? You feed me, and let me stay. It’s even warm in here, most of the time. Hey, speaking of which, what’s with the whole “no heater while you’re gone” thing?”

“My cat angered an eldritch being. Does that make me cursed, by extension, for pitying you?” You spluttered, pointing a finger accusingly in Squish’s face. If cats could look indignant, Squish was the best at it by far.

“You’re probably fine! Jesus, what a drama lord… Anyways, the only way to un-cat me is for me to either wait out nine lives, or to learn how to be humble. I picked you, because you seem to have cripplingly low self-esteem, and I’ve heard that being humble is supposed to make you undervalue yourself. You work in a freezing coffee shop/bookstore duo for objective pennies, so I figured you were the best fit.” Squish finished by jumping up onto the coffee table to eat your fake flower centerpiece.

Leveling them with a warning glare, you huffed, “Well, you did wonders for my “low self-esteem” by saying my top is ugly, thanks. And the heater stays off when I’m gone is to save money, not that you’d know anything about that, Sir Lap of Luxury.”

“I didn’t say the top was ugly, I said it made you look stupid.” Squish stared back with an even more intense scowl. It’s probably the fact that they have cat eyes, and by extension, thin, intimidating slits for pupils. Maybe that should be their new nickname. “Slits for Pupils”.

You plopped down on the couch and looked at the quickly cooling box of takeout you got. “You know, I have half a mind to toss you out right now. What if the elder deity you angered decides being a cat isn’t a good enough punishment, and comes back to finish the job? What if they kill me for being hospitable to what I thought was a slightly ornery, but cuddly, domestic cat?”

Squish continued staring in that apathetic, far off way that cats do sometimes, as though they know all the secrets to the universe and are trying to shoot them into your brain. It was oddly reassuring, considering the circumstances, and you supposed that this conversation could wait until you had eaten, before your food was wasted.

(a/n: discord is here)