#but i have a feeling (delusion) that it might not be?

[osunari]

⚠︎ s i l e n t t e m p t a t i o n s ( 18+ )

—ch.5

➤ s t a r t

mr. crawling x MC

- h o m i c i p h e r 𒌧

"No Mercy"

The room hung heavy with silence, interrupted by the faint crackling and groaning of the ceiling above, each sound like a warning from the building itself. You paced back and forth, your footsteps muffled by the dust-covered floor, but your movements felt aimless—like a puppet tugged along by invisible strings.

Your thoughts spiraled into a chaotic mess, frustration and despair warring for dominance. Memories of earlier events flooded your mind with relentless intensity, each one a vivid snapshot of the growing horrors. The mocking grin of mr. crawling lingered like a thorn, sharp and unrelenting, a reminder of his selective predatory nature and the disturbing joke he took in the crimson man's delusions. Then there was mr. scarletella—his dominating frame, the suffocating possessiveness in his blackened gaze. He treated you like a possession rather than a person, and no matter how hard you tried to push him away, he seemed to close in even tighter.

But worst of all was the grim realization that your humanity was slipping further and further away. It wasn't just the strange stares you caught in your reflection—your skin losing its warmth, your eyes dulling red like a dying ember. It was deeper, something intangible, like the very core of who you were was unraveling, strand by strand.

It's eating me away.

You stumbled down the dim corridor, your chest tight and your head pounding as you tried to catch your breath. The grease of your last worn clothes hung to your skin, having had no choice but to reuse them despite its state. Every movement felt heavier than the last, your body sluggish, betraying you. Your hands trembled uncontrollably, and a faint sheen of sweat covered your skin. Something was wrong—more wrong than usual.

Leaning against the wall, you forced yourself to breathe deeply, but your throat burned as if you'd been running for hours—despite only walking for a few minutes. A strange sensation crawled under your skin, like an itch you couldn't scratch. Your nails dug into your palms, the need to feel something—anything, so overwhelming it nearly consumed you.

Then it hit you. The faintest flicker of desire, not to escape this place, not to survive, but to harm. It was an alien urge, sharp and intrusive, and it made you recoil in horror.

"It's just an intrusive thought." You repeated the sentence quietly, squeezing your eyes shut, clutching your head as though the pressure might force the thoughts away.

But the more you fought, the more vivid the visions became—splintered memories of encounters with others in the apartment. The temptation to see blood on your hands, the satisfaction of watching someone fall, the haunting realization that a dark, primal part of you wanted to dominate, to kill.

"No..." you whispered, shaking your head violently. "Not me. This isn't me."

I'm not a killer. I'm just an ordinary human.

Your weak knees finally gave up and dropped as you slid to the floor. You gritted your teeth, the metallic taste of your fear mixing with the sickening sense of pleasure that crept in uninvited. Was it the curse? Or was it you? The past you? Were you losing yourself entirely, becoming another one of the monsters that lurked these halls?

The thought sent a cold shiver down your spine, and your breathing hitched. You pressed your back against the wall, staring into the abyss of the hallway ahead. Your heartbeat drummed in your ears, but somewhere beyond it, you swore you heard whispers—low, coaxing whispers, calling your name.

And the worst part? You didn't want to run from them anymore.

The room seemed to close in on you, the walls whispering in their own language of creaks and groans. You muttered under your breath, a futile attempt to ground yourself. "Am I even me anymore? What in the hell was I even like?" your gaze fixated on the floor of the separating hallways, "I'm overthinking so much, even the ground is starting to look fucking weird..."

The walls around you creaked louder, the sound pressing against your ears like something alive, something trying to escape. You stared at the floor, and for a second, you swore it moved—wavy, like water rippling out from a stone. "No... not now... it's not a good time." you whispered, blinking hard, but it didn't stop. The edges of the room started to twist, corners bending in ways they shouldn't. Then, the floor tilted under you with a violent jolt, and you stumbled forward, realizing with growing terror that this wasn't in your head. The apartment was moving, rearranging itself, like a puzzle someone was ripping apart, and you were stuck in the middle of it.

Then it came; a low rumble, almost imperceptible at first. But it grew louder, shaking the very foundation beneath your feet. You barely had time to react before the walls around you began to shift. Tiles cracked and fell away; the ceiling groaned as it splintered. The room twisted unnaturally, breaking apart as if the entire world was being rearranged by a mindless giant.

Panic gripped you as you stumbled back, narrowly dodging a falling scrap. The floor cracked, and you slipped, crashing into a pile of debris. Pain shot through your side as rubble pinned your leg.

No, no, no. Not now.

You clawed desperately at the jagged edges, trying to free yourself, when you heard it—a familiar, guttural growl followed by a faint flicker of crimson light.

Through the haze of dust and chaos, you saw him; mr. scarletella, his massive frame flickering into view. His crimson hue seemed to pulse with rage, his umbrella drawn like a weapon. But before he could reach you, another figure materialized—mr. crawling, abandoning his standing stance and switching to his usual crawling posture, sending indirect signals of defensiveness and worry.

The room was a chaotic mess of shattered walls and shifting debris, and you were half-buried under a collapsed beam, your legs pinned awkwardly. Dust swirled in the air, and your cough echoed loudly, barely masking the heavy footsteps storming toward you. I don’t remember it being this bad… the walls rearranged, but it barely felt like an earthquake unlike now.

Your loyal companion appeared first, springing over a pile of rubble with surprising grace, his jagged mouth stretched downward wider than ever. "几ㄚ(me)  几匚尺ㄒ(save)  几ㄩ(you)  !" he promised before hurriedly crawling to your empathetic figure. Before you could even react, another figure flickered himself in front of the man on all fours—blocking your view of him.

"ㄚ乃(no)  ." He growled, his umbrella snapping open dramatically as he stepped closer, "几ㄚ(me)  几匚尺ㄒ(save)  几ㄩ(you)  ."

Both froze, glaring daggers at each other, their sudden rivalry so intense it almost made you forget you were, you know—stuck.

They both lunged forward simultaneously, only to stop short and glare at each other. You were caught between their silent battle of dominance, the air thick with unspoken tension. And just as mr. scarletella stepped closer, a deafening crash echoed above you.

The ceiling gave way, and an enormous hand broke through, snatching you with ease.

Your scream echoed faintly, swallowed by the chaos as the giant's massive hand enveloped you, stealing you from the room you had known seconds ago. The room seemed to warp around you, walls twisting and crumbling as mr. huge face pulled you effortlessly into the far side of another room—separating you from the two. His soulless black eyes, cavernous and endless, locked onto you with a disturbing curiosity, his breath hot and damp as it ruffled your hair.

Below, the crimson glow of mr. scarletella flickered like a failing lightbulb, his dark silhouette scrambling toward you, his umbrella clutched tightly. Beside him, mr. crawling lunged forward, his jagged grin now replaced by a sulky look of desperation, arms outstretched as though trying to snatch you back.

But the giant's hulking frame moved swiftly, the debris parting for him as if the ghostly apartment obeyed his will. The two men, so prominent in your view a moment ago, began to blur and fade into the distance, their voices muffled by the crushing weight of the shifting building. You could see their faces frozen in frantic determination—mr. scarletella's black eyes locked on yours, while mr. crawling almost threw a tantrum on the ground, his lithe form unnervingly frantic.

And then, just like that, they were gone. You were whisked away into the crumbling, reassembling labyrinth of the ghost apartment, trapped in the suffocating grip of a creature too large and too otherworldly to comprehend. The distance between you and the others was immeasurable now, both physically and emotionally.

"卩山乇丂(cute)  ! 卩山乇丂 (cute)  !" his deep, childlike voice rumbled. His eyes curled into a grotesque upward horizontal crescent, his flowing white hair draping down his face. "几ㄚ(me)  ㄚ乃匚几(like)  几ㄩ(you)  !  几ㄩ(you)  千ㄩﾌ丂(small)  !   几ㄚ(me)  丂ﾌㄩ千(big)  ,  几ㄩ(you)  ㄚ乃匚几(like)  丂ﾌㄩ千(big)? !"

Your stomach churned as you struggled against his grip. "No!" you yelled, but he tilted his head, seemingly confused by your rejection.

"几乇ㄚ(but)  . . .  几ㄚ(me)  ㄚ乃匚几(like)  千ㄩﾌ丂(small)  ." he muttered with his eyes falling into a downward horizontal crescent, his words guilt-tripping you as if trying to convince you otherwise.

You squeezed and attempted to wriggle yourself out of his strong grip, milking all the strength left in your system—after realizing the huge difference in power, you stopped trying and let your body loose. "Th-... that's not how it fucking works!" you cried out, tears threatening to drop from the corner of your eyes as you find yourself frantically and constantly thumping your fists at his heavier and bigger ones.

"This..! This is not fair at all! Stupid giant, put me down!.." His massive fingers curled tighter around you, and for a moment, you felt certain this was the end. Thinking if you were going to get unalived at that moment, you had better made it worthwhile anyway.

Then, with a sickening squelch, a blade embedded itself into mr. hugeface's eye. He howled in agony, dropping you as his hands flew to his bleeding wound—his focus leaving his brand new doll as he cried aloud to the pain inflicted on to him by your savior with incredibly accurate aim. "ㄚ卩几山(pain)  !  ㄚ卩几山(pain)  !  几ㄚ(me)  尺ㄒ几(hurt)  !"

The fall was perplexing, barely having time to process it before strong arms caught you mid-air. You blinked, dazed, as the familiar figure of mr. machete came into focus. His tarnished arms cradled you effortlessly, his rugged face set in grim determination. He adjusted his hold, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potato between his becips, before bolting through the crumbling halls as his machete flew back to him similar to that of a boomerang—leaving you speechless.

The world was a blur of broken walls and falling debris as he maneuvered with practiced ease. Despite your disorientation, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of safety in his grasp. When he finally came to a stop, you were greeted by a familiar place wherein you had remembered leading to your first encounter with the bandaged man.

Oh yeah, he tried to kill me here.

He looked up and so did you, you saw a frameless square hole installed high around the walls of the territory. it was on a high ledge—a secluded area where the chaos seemed distant.

You couldn't help but reminisce that very day, he was sitting loosely around the same area— one foot hanging down as his other relaxed atop the high ground. His bandaged head tilted to side slightly as his sharp teeth decorated his villainous grin, much more gruesome than that of mr. crawlings'. You couldn't forget one thing, his blood-shedding machete which had lost it's ability to reflect and instead was replaced by layers and layers of rust and grease— although still being able to cut and slice nicely. The way he had chased you down despite showing him no signs of violence, his hunched-back figure jumping off the high ground as his heavy muscular body inflicted a crack on to the ground with each step, it all bothered you—he did not seem like the type to offer you a pinch of assistance in times of great need.

You brushed off the thought, not wanting to label him as something psychotic and monstrous in spite of helping you just when you were stuck between death and... well— death.

The bandaged giant placed you down with an unintentional roughness, his massive hand releasing you in a way that made you stumble forward slightly. The impact wasn't harsh enough to harm but firm enough to remind you of just how small and powerless you were in his grasp. He gave your weary figure a quick glance before slumping onto the edge, one leg dangling casually as he let out a heavy sigh—his heavy offense weapon placed neatly beside him.

You stared at him, still shaken. His broad back was riddled with scars, each one telling a story of battles fought and survived. "Me grateful." you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the ringing in your ears.

He didn't respond, his attention seemingly fixated on the machete which was now in his hand, which he toyed with absent-mindedly. Despite his stoic demeanor, there was a calmness about him that put you at ease. Yet despite this information, you wouldn't expect at first sighting he could be such a chill guy at times where he didn't feel like being a jerk.

You hesitated before sitting beside him, your legs swinging over the edge. His gaze flickered to your movements, a hint of curiosity in his otherwise unresponsive expression. "几ㄚ(you)  山尺乇几(weak)  ." he finally spoke, his voice blunt but not unkind. "几ㄩ(you)  乇尺乙(easy)  千ㄖ乂千(food)  .  几ㄩ(you)  ㄥ乇几(die)  爪山乙(here)  ."

You placed a hand dramatically over your chest, feigning offense. Yeah, just as I thought. Both mr. hugeface and this guy. They get all cocky because they have this big figure...

Your cheeks puffed, eyebrows furrowing deep into your forehead as you sulked, "Me know, me know. Me leave soon."

His lips twitched, almost forming a smirk, but he looked away before you could be sure. "丂ㄚㄒ(say)  几ㄩ(you)  几ㄚ乂丂(leave)  .  ㄚ卩ㄥ(why)  几ㄩ(you)  丂乇尺(still)  乂乙几(here)  ?"

"Curse." The weight of your words lingered, carried by the quiet sorrow etched across your face. You couldn't ignore it—the strange sensations coursing through you, the subtle yet undeniable erosion of your identity. "Time pass, me become less human." you added with a pinch of despair in your tone, it felt as though pieces of yourself were slipping away, not stolen but surrendered to the oppressive curse that tethered you to this place.

He glanced at you, his curious mind thoughtful. "几ㄚ(you)  ㄥㄖ乙尺(lose)  爪几尺ㄚ乂(memory)  ,  乃ㄚ(yes)  ?"

You frowned, caught off guard. "What?"

"乃爪乙(time)  山卩(pass)  ,  几ㄚ(you)  乙卄山(body)  乂乃丂(change)  ,  几ㄚ(you)  ﾌㄖ卄乇(memory)  ﾌ乂爪(disappear)  ." he explained, his voice low. "几ㄩ(you)  ㄚ乃(not)  千尺几(know)  ?  乙乇ㄩㄚ卩(stupid)  ㄩㄚ乇卂(human)  ."

The weight of his words hit you like a blow. Could that be the explanation? It would explain the fragmented memories, the gaps you could never quite fill. You stared at him, searching his face for answers.

"You know about curse?" you asked quietly.

"千匚ㄩ几(ofcourse)  ." he admitted, his tone distant. "乃ㄚ(but)  . . .  几ㄚ(me)  ㄚ乃(not)  千几ㄚ(fully)  ㄩ乂匚乙乇(understand)  几ㄩ(your)  匚乇几(case)  ." His honesty was disarming. You found yourself trusting him, despite everything. As silence settled between you, you glanced at his hands—strong and steady, despite the scars that marred them.

Your gaze melted on nothingness, the mystery of his words lingering in your thoughts like a lost puzzle piece—what did he mean he didn't fully understand my case? It couldn't possibly be a mistranslation, could it?

As if piecing together fragments of a shattered mirror, the picture slowly became clearer; your lost memories, the overwhelming distortion of your appearance, and the creeping tendency to kill that gripped your soul. Was this the work of mr. scarletella's possessive curse, designed to strip you of your humanity piece by piece? Or was it something older, darker—a force rooted deep in your past? The more you thought, the more sinister it all seemed, as though you weren't just cursed but marked by something far beyond your comprehension. The answer was out there, yet it felt like finding it would cost the last of your dripping sanity.

.

.

.

That's it.

THAT'S IT..!

I want to kill...

I HAVE KILLED BEFORE..!

Wait... I have..?

YES..! FINALLY..! I WAS INDEED A KILLER!..

I... killed people..?

LISTEN, listen... to your left...

Left..? It's... mr. machete..?

KILL!.. YES! KILL! START WITH HIM!..

.

.

.

give no mercy.

.

.

.

The intrusive conversation between yourself and your disturbing other half—clouded your mind, turning your perception into a nothing but a nightmarish blur. Who in the hell were you exactly talking to just now? Its voice mimicked yours, only more sinister—but the only thing you could focus on now was the pounding in your chest, the whispers echoing in your skull; No mercy. No mercy. Show no mercy—as if the disturbing other half of yours still lingered somewhere inside of you. It messed with your mind and sanity—sanity lesser than a pinch of grain. The voice which mimicked yours grew louder overtime, pushing you over the edge.

Your lips moved on their own, repeating the mantra like a curse, the same phrase escaping your mouth more venomous than the last. Your vision tunneled, drenched in shades of blood. The figure of mr. machete came into view, his hulking, scarred frame crouched against the high ground's edge. He hadn't noticed the shift in you yet, his focus elsewhere, his hand absentmindedly toying with the blade that bore his name. Then, like a feral beast snapping its chains, you lunged.

A guttural growl tore from your throat as your body collided with his. It wasn't you—not entirely. Something darker and primal had taken over. Your hands clawed at him, your nails digging into the bandages around his head, as he staggered backward under the force of your attack. His eyes widened-not in fear, but in recognition.

"ㄩ乂匚乙(curse)  . . ." he muttered, his voice low and heavy, before his machete swung upward. He wasn't holding back. You weren't his ally anymore; you were a threat, and he fought like one.

The sound of metal slicing through air rang out as the blade barely missed you. With uncanny speed, you dodged to the side, your movements erratic and animalistic. A sharp laugh—yours? bubbled out, but it didn't sound human. Mr. machete couldn't control his emotions no longer, scrunching his nose to the beasty sounds emitting from you, witnessing every last bit of your sanity fade as he dives into the story your loath-filled blood shot eyes. It was shrill and broken, like shards of glass grinding together. You pounced again, your strength frightening even to yourself.

.

.

.

Must kill, must die.

Must see blood.

.

.

.

But mr. machete was experienced, his scars proof of his survival against countless adversaries. For a swift moment, he took one last look of empathy in your "lost" state, "乃乙(we) 几乂ㄚ(should)  ㄩ乇几(meet)  丂ㄖ爪(again)  ,  ㄚ乃(yes)  ?  乃(in)  几ㄩ丂(other)  卩爪乂乃(world)  ." He planted his feet firmly and shoved against you with a force that knocked the wind from your lungs. You stumbled but didn't stop, your body moving on pure instinct as you lunged again. This time, he was ready. With one swift motion, he sidestepped and used your momentum against you, gripping the back of your clothing and hurling you toward the edge of the high ground.

The world spun as your body crashed through the air, weightless for a moment before gravity yanked you downward. The broken edge of the cliff scraped against your arms as you tumbled, landing in a crumpled heap in the middle of mr. machete's domain.

The impact rattled through your bones, pain flooding your senses—but even through the haze of agony, the whispers didn't stop.

.

.

.

No mercy... no mercy... no mer.. no...

WHY DID YOU STOP!?..

HE'S RIGHT THERE..!

Right.. FUCKING THERE!..

YOU’RE… NOT—.. F-FINISHED!..

.

.

.

Above, mr. machete stood as still as a statue, his machete glinting under the dim light as he watched you carefully. His grip on the handle of his blade tightened imperceptibly, as though the action might anchor him to his unaffected facade. Yet, the faintest twitch of his scarred hand betrayed the war waging within—a tiny crack in the armor of his stoicism as he fought to suppress any trace of regret. His bottom lip twitched, his bandaged half-lidded eyes watching your lifeless body. "ㄚ几乃(try)  卂千丂尺(again)  .  乙ㄚ尺(maybe)  卩匚乇(when)  几ㄩ(you)  ﾌ乂爪(less) 山丂卂ㄚ千(weak)  ."

He didn't make a move to approach, his silhouette a silent warning.

For a moment, you felt yourself again.

The rage ebbed, the whispers faded into the background, and the crimson veil over your vision lifted. You stared up at his blurred figure, your body trembling not from pain, but from disorientation… Wait a minute—… He actually looks super cool from down here... like when the main protagonist character defeats the villainous lead antagonist character with the super emotional and interesting backstory... and the protagonist would always let the antagonist finish talking first about their past—before finally striking on one another... I heard that it was actually a universal thing in manga, anime, and superhero comics to do that one simple gesture of acknowledgement towards the struggles of the antagonists before a fight. I'd like to think that those who fought in battles wherein the two aren't fully enemies, or hate eachother, usually tend to end the battle in kindness.

Wait, why am I talking about superheroes and their tendencies to listen to their opps' trauma dumping before a fight?

.

.

.

Hold on, didn't I just die?

... yep, I think I really am dead.

Thank god,

mr. machete defeated me.

.

.

.

he defeated "it".

⚠︎ s i l e n t t e m p t a t i o n s ( 18+ )

—ch.5

➤ e n d

"No Mercy"

[salparadiselost]

Christmas, Kansas

“Yello” said Jason, elbows deep into the Batmobile because while the Bats away the Robins will play and all of that shit. Really, it was Bruce’s fault for giving Jason a pair of keys back into the Manor. What was the man expecting? For Jason to not take advantage of Bruce’s corporate trip to LA and pass up the opportunity to give the Batmobile a few “upgrades”?

“Jason? Oh, thank god, you have to come get me.”

Jason hummed. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jason remembered some vague discussion about Bruce being gone and Dick starting to get concerned about it. 

“And why would I do that?”

“I’m trapped,” Bruce’s voice was starting to get a bit frantic. “Look I don’t know how much time I have left on this pay phone, but you need to get your siblings and come get me. I’m in a town called Christmas, Kansas. It’s at approximately 39 degrees north by 101–”

“Wait, the town is called Christmas?”

“Yes,” Bruce growled this word out with so much disdain that Jason was reminded about how the man talked about the Joker. “The town is trapped in Christmas. It’s trying to get me to feel the Christmas Spirit.”

Jason’s eyebrows crinkled together. “But you're Jewish?”

“That’s what I said! But no, apparently, anyone can feel the Christmas spirit, and I’m trapped here until I feel it, too. But I don’t feel shit except for the cold, because did I tell you, but it snows all the time here. It’s May! Jason, it’s May! And we have had three winter storms that have trapped us inside to force us to bake cookies and decorate trees and I’m going insane, Jason. I’m going insane! This might be what breaks me! I’m not singing Fa La La La La in fucking May, Jason!”

Jason had frozen, eyes widening as Bruce’s tirade ended, and all he could hear was his dad heavily panting into the phone. 

“Holy shit,” Jason whispered. He had heard Bruce at some of his worst and it was rare to hear Bruce sound so miserably exhausted. He was more used to Bruce sounding like he had a fair amount of control on things, but this man… this sounded like a man breaking. 

“Please come get me,” Bruce was practically pleading now. “I called Clark, but he’s been taken by this town’s delusion and apparently enjoys being here.”

Jason huffed a ragged laugh. “Of course he would, that man bleeds small-town Americana. He’s probably trying to get you to do all the Christmas traditions with him.”

“Yes,” Bruce said so miserably that it actually made Jason feel a bit bad for the guy. 

“Give me a few hours,” said Jason, sighing internally as he signed himself up for getting into more of this family’s bullshit. “I’ll have Tim trace the call, and we will come find you. In the meantime, go enjoy a cup of cheer.”

“I think if I drink another hot cocoa I’m going to have a sugar induced heart attack.”

“Cocoa? Who the fuck was talking about cocoa? I mean whiskey, Bruce. Or vodka. Or anything else strong and alcoholic that will tide you over until we get there.”

Bruce gave a grumbly, stilted laugh into the phone that definitely didn’t mess with Jason’s heart a bit and made him feel like he was twelve again. 

“Alright, Jay, I’ll see you soon.”

[weepingchronicles]

Hi! I saw your requests are open, so could you please do a Jinx x fem! Reader where the reader gets hurt badly after a fight (maybe after episode 6?) and almost dies? How would Jinx react? And make it angsty and fluffy please. Thank you! 🩵

a/n: aaa i didn't know if you wanted yandere or not but i did it anyways, i am very sorry if you didn't want yan!jinx. i didn't know if you meant season one or two but to be honest i couldn't remember anything anyways so this is just a made up fight! hope you dont mind <3

❝yandere!jinx x fem!reader getting injured❞

���� ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Believe it or not, Jinx drops everything once she notices you are hurt, especially if it is critical. Of course, if she is distracted by the fighting and adrenaline of a fight, it might take her awhile to notice until you collapse or the fight is over. I imagine pre-shimmer Jinx would be more attentive and notices if you are hurt even a bit.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 But basically, she drops everything and would rush to your side nonetheless. She will kneel by your side, assessing your injuries. Oh god, that is a lot of blood. Since when did you have so many wounds?

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Thousands of thoughts swarm around her head. She is so scared of losing you, she can't lose another person she loves. She just can't. Voices of her adoptive brother's voice ring through her head and even Silco's. Saying things like how she just hurts everyone around her, this was bound to happen eventually. No wonder Vi didn't want her to come on the mission. She's a jinx.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Thankfully, the marching and yells of incoming enforcers awakens her from her delusions. She scoops you in her arms pretty easily and rushes home to save you.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 But as she is racing away with you in tow, she looks down seeing your colored eyes begin to gloss over and droop, your skin getting colder and colder. No.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Without much thought she rushes you to Singed. He helped Silco save her, why couldn't he now?

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Once you fully awaken you are not the same. The surgery was a success but your mind feels almost split into two. Your mind conjured the most horrible memories and distorted them into something worse. But Jinx was beside you through all of it.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You find your head laying in Jinx's lap, her painted nails twirling some strands of your hair between her fingers. She notices you, "Oh! You're awake!" She jumps and sit you upright. She is smiling but something in her face makes you believe she is worried, worried for you. Her motions are more jittery than usual.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She brings you a small makeup compact excitedly and open it up, showing your reflection through the small mirror. Your eyes were not the same color anymore. Instead they were a magenta color, something unnatural and not you. It almost reminds you of— "Now we match!" Jinx exclaims excitedly, as if you'd be happy.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "What did you do to me, Jinx?" You focus your gaze back onto her, feeling anger rising in your bones.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Jinx scrunches her face, "What did I do? I saved you!" she says, practically snarling at your accusatory tone. She stands, throwing the makeup compact harshly at you.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "You were going to bleed out in my arms so quit looking me like I'm some.. some monster!" Her voice breaks on the last note, showing her insecurity. You knew all about Jinx's past, about Vi.. Vander. You promised to never do the same thing to her.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You take a deep breath in. reassessing your situation. Yes, you were.. different but you were fine, right? Your wound were gone and in fact, you felt more alive than before. More hyper-aware, like you are a fresh eyed baby seeing the world new again.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "I'm.. I'm sorry, Jinx. I just feel so confused.. and different." You hunch over, cradling your own head in your arms.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Jinx's look pities, all tension disappearing at the sight of your struggle. She knew exactly what it felt like, how violating it felt.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She kneels down in front of you, looking up and gently removing your hands from your face. "I know, I know what you must feel. But I promise. . I wouldn't have done it if I didn't have no other choice. Please."

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You lean down, pressing your forehead to Jinx's in an act of understanding and. . affection. "I believe you, thank you for saving me. We will get through this together, okay?" Jinx nods hurriedly, her eyes all wide and thankful.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 The rest of that day was spent with lots of cuddles and talking, maybe this new you wasn't that bad as long as you have Jinx.

a/n: why was this kind of a soft yandere for jinx? oh well. . it was really cute!! i hope you enjoyed :3

[captain-pheonix]

Hello. I will call you Phoenix because that sounds very cool and you are cool and I platonically like you and enjoy your works.

Anyways I have come to request an all mercs + Pauling if you’re comfortable and want to write that. (If not maybe just Medic +whoever else you want to write for.) with a reader who has Schizophrenia? I’ve been going through some moments with it and the TF2 mercs are my comfort characters and your blog just feels nice.

If you aren’t comfortable with this feel free to block me or just ignore this ask entirely! Thank you very much!

A/n: GAHHH ILY PLATONICALLY TOO 🫶 ty for sending in a request, I’m so glad you enjoy my works! I try my best! I made sure I did some more extensive reasearch about schizophrenia/the real experience with it before I wrote this, please let me know if I should make some edits! (And other ppl reading this, also don’t be afraid to send an ask about making edits!)

Mercs + Pauling w/ reader w/ Schizophrenia (headcannons)

(Platonic or romantic!)

Pauling:

- will have some guilt about how she works all the time and can’t be there for you

- might send some gifts and call you in between jobs/travel, asking how you’ve been, asking if now was a good time or if you needed a distraction

- as soon as she gets the chance to come see you, she takes it

- asks over and over if you’re okay, because it’s been keeping her anxious on her jobs

- she’ll comfort you with sweet words over the phone if you call her for help

- reminds you to take your meds

Scout:

- absolutely clueless

- buys into stereotypes

- “the voices” type shit

- this guy is gonna need a thorough explanation as to how you feel all the time

- probably asks you how you’re feeling all the time too

- might be a little too quick to do his sneak-attack hugs

- likes hugging you a lot, so that could offer some grounding if you’re having delusions/hallucinations

- words of affirmation 10/10

- expect a lot of words…

- speaking of a lot of words, need an auditory distraction? The scout-o-matic is here! (Only $69.99)

Soldier:

- clueless prick

- thinks you’re some spy or something

- it might take the entirety of the team to convince him otherwise and try to explain it to him with your help

- might also buy into the stereotypes

- if you say you hear or see something that man is going to run around screaming with his shovel trying to chase them off for you (believes they’re real, but only you have magic powers to see them or something)

Medic:

- #1 meds administer

- does not buy into stereotypes, since he may know something about it

- (fw researching you heavy)

- dude is taking notes as you’re straight up not having it

- jk he goes to comfort you if he can after a bit

- you WILL be staying in the infirmary with him (sorry I don’t make the rules)

- will look into techniques to help you

Demo:

- you already know he’s offering alcohol to take the edge off/distract

- you have tried many times to tell him that that will not work

- if you had alcohol with your meds things would not end well

- offers himself as a napping space for being really exhausted (I’d take him up on that)

- he might already be passed out when you go to ask if you two can nap

- might wanna just scootch in there

Heavy:

- will protect you from the bad things (or at least try)

- if someone hurt pookie that’s no good it will not do

- offers protective bear hugs if you need something/somewhere/someone to cuddle up to and be distracted/grounded

Pyro:

- if you’re describing what you see to them, or have in the past, they might try to draw them with good old fashioned crayons and printer paper

- also schizophrenic 😭

- huge empathy from them

- but uhm they might also just straight up not know they’re schizophrenic, so bro could just be like “same”

- alright enough Gen z talk from me (there can never be enough)

- even if just hanging out with them makes you feel more comfortable

Sniper:

- probably feels bad for you

- opts to hang out indoors if hallucinations/delusions are not fun outside

- comforts you when you think you see or hear something

Spy:

- if he’s attempting to be subtle you might expect some noise cancelling headphones and other helpful tools show up at your door

- if you need a break from certain rooms he’s definitely gonna offer his smoking room

- gets you pill organizers for your meds if that’s something you struggle with

- offers lots of gentle comfort

- let’s be honest, this guy was clueless before you started talking to him about it and what it was

- now he just wants to offer help

Engie:

- probably pities you a bit

- gives you that Texan hospitality but may take a bit to understand you better

- will 10/10 make you something if there’s something he can make to help and if it’s possible

- gonna try everything in his power to make your life easier

————————

Hopefully I did okay 😭 ty for sending in your request!!

[cinderblockgabbs]

Hi here’s a loooooooooonggg rant from the one that can’t go on without inserting Wilford into every egos life in any way possible…

For context: I see engineer mark as a separate person from actor mark, but he’s also like actors self insert, or how he interprets himself if he were an awesome engineer in the year 2080- something. This doesn’t mean that they’re the same person, at least not anymore, they just have a lot of the Same personality traits and the same name.

I also see a large portion of iswm in general as a really messed up retelling of wkm that’s been retold and reset so many times it’s become a completely new and different thing. This isn’t saying that every iswm character is supposed to symbolize every wkm character, but at one point, SOME were vaguely based off of marks interpretation of his wkm friends. It’s kinda like an answer to the ship of Theseus.

Anyways, One of the things we see as the captain is mark being stuck with the warp core where we watch him tweak out and slowly build the warp core up again which makes that chain reaction that sets off kinda everything that happens in iswm. I’m saying this cuz I like thinking it’s a parallel to actor mark creating his vengeance plan against William and stuff. I see it that way because both engineer marks and actor mark were stuck in isolation for forever, and they couldn’t die, so they were miserable. AND AND AND, both marks FIRMLY BELEIVED their closest friend (engie’s being the captain and mark’s being William) were ACTUALLY EVILLL AND THEY WANTED TO STOP THEM . The creation of the warp core and the poker night both came from this crazed and desperate guy who convinced himself that what he was doing, despite it being bound to hurt people, was the right thing to do.

The only difference between engie and actor tho is that engineer mark felt actually so terrible after he realized that he was in the wrong, while actor mark genuinely CANT see that he even COULD be wrong.

MEANWHILEEE Wilford’s in iswm, it doesn’t matter why, he’s just kinda doing whatever. I like thinking that at one point Wilford would’ve seen engineer mark at his lowest. Wilford, being actually so sad and stupid as a character, would see actor mark in engineer mark. Like he sees a lot of iswm characters like if they were just wkm characters in silly costumes. This is a coping mechanism cuz deep down Wilford KNOWS he’s not talking to his old friends at all.

Just like in WMLW, I think Wilford would want to try to make amends with actor mark , but actor really REALLY hates Wilford, so this could never happen. Until Wilford meets engineer mark yayyyyyyy 😛😛

So then Wilford tries saying sorry for everything and I miss you and whatever to who he thinks is his ex best friend and little brother (I hc them as step brothers) but it’s just engineer mark being like “..ok…🤨”

BUT THEN ALSO LAST THING LAST THING, since Wilford caught engie at such a low point in his life he would feed into Wilford’s delusions because engineer mark (just like actor for a time) is completely alone and has nobody. And since engineer mark is like actor marks space self insert, and mark put a lot of his personality into engineer mark, engie feels a familiar resentment to Wilford but also a familiar longing to hear him out and he doesn’t know why and probably never will and when engineer mark realizes and accepts that he’s in the wrong which breaks the cycle of actor marks self destruction infliction of pain into everybody else, JUST WHEN EVERYTHING IS OVER AND ENGINEER MARK FINALLY GETS A BETTER LIFE OUT OF THAT DAMN SHIP, he might not even remember who told him whatever he had to hear at his lowest, but he’ll remember that whoever they were, they helped him a little. maybe. just a bit..

That’s all I have that’s the end of the rant if anybody has something ANYTHING AT ALL to add pleaseeeeeee do I’m desperate to talk about obscure Markiplier lore and headcanons to anybody

[iconicname]

The same goes for anya x curly too it may seem cute, but curly was essentially a boy mom with Jimmy as the "boy." Honestly, I think at most anya and curly could be tentatively reconciled friends post fix-it ending or whatever which would take a lot of work on curly's part and giving a lot of forgiveness (If shes willing ofc) on anya's part.

obviously, do what you want i could literally not care less what yall do i just wish fandoms were less shipping-oriented sometimes :/

weird accidental character analysis/rant below

Look, I too, am not immune to the 'oh, curly's kinda cute' thing people have going on. I get it, but I don't want to be blinded by it.

I think people forget that pre-crash curly was a miserable and incompetent guy who stuck around and kept jimmy around for a reason, (while yeah the birthday scene made it clear that he's a nice enough person that pre-crash crew generally had a good opinion of him and he may seem better when side by side with someone like jimmy but that man is nowhere near the picture of a "well-rounded man)

The reason doesn't have to be deliberate or anything like that, it could be that Curly silently never grew out of the dismissal of SA/the female experience mentality which allowed someone like Jimmy to be his close friend for so long. or, in his own words he preferred looking at the bigger picture but because he was so focused on Jimmy's wellbeing (y'know immediately rushing to fucking Jimmy to assure him that everything was going to be okay after ANYA confessed to being pregnant and said that she fears jimmy enough to hide a gun from him that if it were not for the fact that curly would not allow it she would have used to the gun to protect herself. in that scene, it clearly shows that Curly prioritized Jimmy's well-being but also his feelings over Anya's even if if he didn't realize it. to Curly Jimmy was the bigger picture.

Jimmy is clearly not above abusing people he considers his "friends" especially someone who was catering to him to that degree, i.e the birthday cake scene ("both" of them) and the multiple medicine-taking scenes, etc so over the years of knowing jimmy, Curly could have subconsciously internalized Jimmy's sexist way of thinking, as to not create conflict (which is not an excuse) plus someone who may not be happy might cling to the people and disregard red flags in fear of isolation/losing something they consider positive (still not an excuse).

I don't think Curly didn't care for Anya or the rest of the crew, for that matter, but because he focused on catering to Jimmy, he hurt the people Jimmy hurt.

I like to think that Anya and Curly were very similar early days post-crash not just in the "victim to the same piece of shit" kind of way but that they both had the "thinking the best of bad people out of a sense of self-preservation". One of Anya's iconic phrases "Our worst moments don't make us monsters", I like to think that's in character for Curly to adopt that phrase as well for jimmy out of some hopeful delusion and or lasting affection for Jimmy (plus he was definitely delirious and in pain 24/7 mans not going to thinking clearly), especially since Anya and Curly were often together post-crash. but when Anya reaches her breaking point and ends her life it's Curly's breaking point too because it finally fully clicked how horrible Jimmy really was, as a co-worker, friend, and person. and that's why when Jimmy unlocked the gun case, we got the chilling, sardonic, and scorful laugh.

Ya'll have got to stop shipping Curly with Jimmy. That man is a rapist. He doesn't deserve the Yaoi fantasies.

[p4nishers]

no bc i am CONVINCED one of them confesses (crowley) in 1941 and the other (aziraphale) has to reject them, even tho they feel the same, bc of heaven and hell and THAT'S why there's so much fucking tension between them in 1967. like u actually can't convince me otherwise it's canon in my brain.

[ramunnae]

random childe thought cuz that's half of what I post, but it's kinda weird childe is the only character without a vision story AND that his is the only vision that's ever wavered (and whilst he was actively trying to use it?!). ik it's (probably) to do w his constellation and the whale since that's hinted by the Fontaine quest/whale fight but I really wanna know the details.

[triglycercule]

sometimes i like to think that horror comes to dust's room late at night just to talk to phantom papyrus. no he doesn't wanna talk to dust. horror probably doesn't even CARE if dust's awake at the asscrack of dawn or rambling off to the hallucination too loudly this late at night because he just wants to talk to phantom papyrus

horror's not delusional enough to believe that phantom paps is actually real and his own papyrus like dust does but sometimes he really wants to,,,, so just for these short moments between them he wants to pretend that the hallucination is his papyrus. that he gets to talk to his own brother before everything went to shit and before he ruined his brother's life. yeah sure phantom paps kinda says some crazy stuff that horror's papyrus never would back then but so what?? dust's papyrus is the closest thing he's got and at least he doesn't have to deal with the guilt at even LOOKING at his brother's face (the sunken eyesockets,,,, the uneven teeth,,,,, yeah no) because there's nothing there. horror doesn't have to do anything but keep his back turned to dust and just talk to papyrus through him

they both keep their backs turned to eachother when they do this because neither of them can stand looking at eachother. dust especially because hearing horror sound so much like how he was before. horror sounds so lighthearted and relaxed and just,,,,, normal that it almost reminds dust of himself. maybe if he closed his eyes and tuned out his own voice he could just imagine the moment being a conversation between himself and paps back then before he had to kill him over and over. dust doesn't want to have to look back and see horror's mutilated skull and his permanently replaced eye. he doesn't want the fake scenario he's choosing to indulge in right now to be broken

and then i think they talk like that for a long time; because horror has a lot to say to paps about himself and what he regrets and dust has a lot of reminiscing to do on the good old days before he lost himself :3

[dutybcrne]

Thinking abt Kae’s Fatui verse,,,,

[blushouyo]

thinking very hard about the ending of tfone and megatron's reasoning behind the things he says and does... at first i couldn't reconcile with the way he spits out the word prime when referring to optimus bc ???? the primes were never the problem... it was sentinel ?? but then i realised that other than it being bc sentinel tainted the idea for him somewhat. it's also probably bc he's deliberately separating orion from optimus for his own sake... deciding that his best friend really did die when he dropped him as the other option is too difficult for him to even think about acknowledging in his current mental state... 🥲

[ikamigami]

I have such a bad feeling that Sun's going to die on July 16th, it just has that vibe, and/or he learns Dazzle's secret and then dies

Yeah.. I think the same, dear anon..

I have a feeling that Sun will willingly die.. idk what will happen though..

[cobaltfluff]

a meme because i am delusional

[aromanticasterisms]

read through alien space for star rail context and every frame himeko's in you can faintly hear me in the bg trying hard not to think about how much she looks like diluc

[silverislander]

happy elliedina week 2023 :) jj gets himself into trouble and his moms get him out again. ellie has Feelings about it. just "having a son" things ✌

[ricracing]

"We spent the last seven months rebuilding him and getting the old Daniel bank that we recognise from when he was last with us"