#but my body is in constant pain and it's tearing on my mental state

[hurthermore]

»»------► 𝙰 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 (18+) - 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛

Pairing: 𝙷𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗!𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Summary: 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗. 𝚂𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘.

Word Count: 𝟸.𝟿𝚔

Warnings: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝟷𝟾+ 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚐𝚛𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢, 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜.

𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚢

A/N: 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚝; 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝. 𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝚈!

𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚖𝚎!

The past two days felt like a blur.

It was a constant state of dissociation and abuse; Vincent was on a mission to erase every touch Alastor had doused onto you numerous times, and the process hurt. It didn’t help how after every time he violated your body, you would feel his vile arms wrap around you, feeding you lies of security before he was ready to desecrate you once again. Just as he was doing currently. It made you sick; sick that the repulsive man who inflicted pain on you was the same one you sought out comfort in. How could you allow yourself to relish in the softness he offered you?

He was the one who was hurting you.

It was a mental battle within your mind. You had no one. No one to console you, no one to commiserate with you. No one but your husband; the man that caused you pain. The silent tears that naturally fell from the sockets of your face couldn’t be prevented as your husband laid behind you in your shared bed, offering you softness after he had vandalised you. His fingers glazing the skin of your arm, from your tendon to your ulna. It frightened you, for any moment he could switch his mood with a blink of an eye and inflict a pain like no other onto you.

“You’re my good girl aren’t you, doll?” He whispered into your ear, his voice attempting to mimic a tone of seduction which only stiffened your body in fear.

You just wanted a break.

You wanted him to leave you alone.

A hum and a nod of your head was all you could give him. Your nose sniffled as you attempted to end the tears that cascaded down your cheeks. Yet it was futile. No matter how much you just desired for the tears to end, they wouldn’t. Not until your foul husband finally let you go.

His fingers moved to the scalp of your head, intertwining his fingers with your hair. You clutched your eyes shut, fully expecting him to tug your head back. Waiting for the impact of another assault; one that never came. “All you have to do is be a good girl, doll. You’re asking me to hurt you otherwise.” You closed your eyes as his words swirled in your mind. The mental torment that sentence put you through only broke you.

Was it your fault he hurt you?

All you had to do was be perfect.

Why couldn’t you just be perfect?

Giving you restitution of your peace, Vincent finally pulled away from you, leaving your back cold.You couldn’t relax yet; not until he finally left the house. And as you heard him rustling behind you, you could only repeat a mantra of pleads for him to fuck off. “Doll,” He uttered behind you, his tone essentially demanding you look at him. As you slowly turned around, you made sure the blankets did not fall below your collarbone, concealing your naked form from him. Your eyes landed on him as he buttoned up his dress shirt, and relief finally washed over you completely. He was leaving for work. “I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll let you choose what we eat tonight; buy whatever ingredients you need.”

With a nod of your head, you felt him pat your head condescendingly as he told you were his good doll. You could only stomach the bile that begged to depart from your oesophagus as he touched you. 

Once he finally left the house, you allowed yourself to finally breathe, permitting the muscles in your body to relax as the tension of fear finally left your nervous system with the absence of your husband. The tears naturally ceased, and as you laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling, you decided to focus on what you’d make for dinner. Not the abuse you just endured.

Roasted beef with a side of duchess potatoes sounded nice. You finally decided, making a mental list of what you would need to acquire as you pulled yourself up from off your bed. Despite everything that transpired, you felt a sense of happiness due to the fact that you were finally alone; away from the monster that disguised itself as your husband. You could finally leave the house on your own; you always enjoyed being able to leave the house. And you had the choice of what to make for dinner; a rare luxury for you.

Maybe you could put some rat poison in his food. 

You would finally be rid of him for good.

Glaring at your hands, you furrowed your eyebrows. Those intrusive thoughts about murdering your husband were only becoming more frequent as time continued, and it wasn’t something you were comfortable with. Sure, him finally being dead was something you continuously wished for, but actually doing it yourself? You didn’t know how you felt about those types of thoughts.

It brought you joy; fantasising about being the one to end your husband's pitiful existence.

Did that make you a bad person?

You weren’t sure.

Standing up, you approached your washroom to rid yourself of the essence of your husband. You felt repulsed that his abuse left behind bruises, so scrubbing off the remnants of his vile touch from your soft skin helped keep your sanity in check. After cleaning yourself and covering the blemishes that had been inflicted upon you with the assistance of makeup, you placed a tiered dress on your body, along with a pair of small heels and a small bag to match before you finally exited your prison of a home.

Often, you considered running away; Vincent seemed to make it a bit too easy for you to just leave. But you learnt in the early days of your marriage that for some reason, he always seemed to know when you ate something whilst he wasn’t present, or if you left the house without his permission. You didn’t know how he knew, but he always did. It scared you, and it often made you think he had someone watching you whilst he was gone. So of course you obeyed his every demand, especially when the repercussions were so high. The prospect of running from him, the desire to leave only dwindled due to that. You had a strong feeling he would find you regardless of where you went, and you feared the outcome that would inevitably transpire if you ever decided to leave. So as time passed, you stopped disobeying him.

And stayed.

Like a fucking pet.

Ignoring the mass of people who you began to pass as you got closer and closer to your destination whilst you rambled within the constraints of your mind, you almost screamed as a man quite literally jumped in front of you. Almost forcing you to stumble back due to his needless closeness. Taking in his appearance, it was a man you had never met or ever seen before, and you didn’t like the way he was smiling at you. It was almost malicious; the complete opposite of-

“What’s a darl like you doing alone?” The man interrupted your train of thought as your eyes rapidly fixated onto different objects, people, anything as the man continued to lean closer toward you.

“I’m… doing some shopping.” You spoke hesitantly, not really comprehending why this thing of a man thought it appropriate to invade your personal space; he looked too young to even attempt to talk to a young adult like yourself, and beside that, you didn’t even know him!

His smile only became more fox-like as he grabbed the blade of your shoulder abruptly, causing you to clench your teeth in shock and fear. “A gal like you shouldn’t be wandering around alone. Why don’t cha’ tell me where you’re heading? I can escort you.” Dread began to douse your senses as his tone made his intentions fairly obvious; they weren’t pure. 

As you attempted to shake him off of you, his grip remained.

It pissed you off. You were sick of this; sick of letting people treat you this way.

You had no need to fear this man.

He wasn’t your husband.

Gritting your teeth, you began to rear your hand back that held your bag, fully intending to swing it in this bastard's stupid face. You had no reason to fear this freak. But before you could attempt to oscillate this man’s head with your bag, you heard a voice far too familiar speak from behind you.

“It’s not very courteous to handle a lady in such a way.”

Halting your movements, you and the man -if you could even call him that- cautiously turned your heads around to look at the person who possessed a voice you found a bit too familiar until your eyes connected with the man who was in your house a few days ago.

Alastor.

Feeling the male beside you tense up a bit, you began to feel a strange sensation of safety. “Ey pal, I’m just offering this doll some company. It’s not safe for a woman to be alone.” You wanted to laugh at how timid he sounded just from another man intervening, but you also grimaced at the sexism that dripped from his words and that objectifying nickname. Doll. You already had to hear it from your husband's repulsive mouth with every sentence he spoke, you didn’t need to hear it from some random stranger. “Especially with that serial killer going around and all.”

“Well, it’s quite a good thing that she isn’t alone then!” Alastor’s voice spoke with charm and venom simultaneously, sending tremors down your spine; surprisingly pleasant tremors. Yet you couldn’t help your mind from wondering why on earth he was here. Was it just a coincidence? Or…

Pulling you from your thoughts, you yelped as the Alastor gripped your wrist, essentially snatching you from the other man’s hold on you, forcing you flush against his side. “This little darling is with me. So your services aren’t required, boy.” You couldn’t slow down the beating of your heart as he held you in such a protective position and how he spoke with such defence and preservation for your wellbeing.

You ignored how his actions made you tense your thighs together.

Before the man could retort, Alastor simply turned you around. His large and slightly calloused hands resting on the small of your back as he led you away from where you were heading in the first place. You could hear him mumbling words under his breath, so quiet that you were unable to coherently assimilate what he was saying. 

“Uhm, Alastor?” You spoke, breaking him out of his dazed ramble as you placed a hand on his clothed bicep. Fixating his eyes onto you, you could feel the muscles in his toned arm tremble ever so slightly at your touch; as to why, you had no clue. “Thank you, for helping me there. But I have some shopping that needs to be attended to, you see.” You could feel his breath against your forehead as he stared at you, taking in your words. His expression was composed along with his signature sinister smile, but you could see the tension in his eyebrows.

What was wrong with him?

Almost switching a light on, Alastor only grinned further at you. “Why, you’re very welcome, my darling.” He ignored your other sentence, ignoring you had things to do; and as you attempted to repeat yourself, he spoke over you. “Won’t you join me for some coffee instead, darling?” 

You took a minute to contemplate his question. What if Vincent found out? It was the first thing that came to your mind, but as the brown haired man before you kept smiling at you, his expression almost in adoration, you couldn’t find yourself saying no to him, but you had to.

Rejecting him was the best thing to do.

Taking your hand off Alastor, missing the way his smile twitched downwards ever so slightly at the loss of contact, you gave yourself a minute to ponder. You couldn’t deny that you didn’t want to send him away. Even if you did slightly blame him at first for your husband’s abuse over the past two days due to his incessant touching and flirting. Looking at him now, you felt awful for even putting any blame on him in the first place. He was just being nice to you, and your husband punished you for it.

And he did just help you with that man who was harassing you.

It made you forget how he was conveniently there to rescue you.

“I can’t go to coffee,” You watched as his smile deflated ever so slightly. A pinched sensation grasped your heart as you watched him seem almost disappointed. “I have to do some shopping. But, if you want, you’re welcome to join me.”

Watching as Alastor seemed to beam brighter, he forced your arm to link through his. “Well, I’d be quite the fool to deny you, wouldn’t I?” You faced away from him as you felt yourself fluster. How was this man always capable of making you feel sensations your own husband failed to achieve? “Lead the way, ma cherie.”

It felt oddly right having Alastor by your side as you walked toward the shops you needed to visit. “How have you been since I last saw you, darling?” You looked up, noticing how his focus was on your form and not the walk path. His glasses perched against the edge of his pointed nose as the sun reflected off them ever so slightly.

Awful. You wanted to admit, but you never would. “Adequate. I must admit, the house has been a bit mundane ever since you left.” You couldn’t believe those words left your mouth. Couldn’t believe you admitted such a thing to him. Why would you say that to him?

Cringing as you heard him chuckle, your mind began to jumble. Of course he’d laugh at you. Sensing your unease, Alastor only tugged you further into him before bending his height down to yours. “Well, I’m more than happy to grace your home with my presence whenever you wish, darling.” Why did he make that sound so suggestive? Leaning into your ear, whispering softly, he continued. “Maybe I could show you how to make a true jambalaya, just like we planned.” You were positive he was trying to tease you with how he breathed those words into your ear.

But you needed to deter this conversation. Although the thought of Alastor cooking for you, or even cooking with you was something you were finding yourself truly wanting to do; it wasn’t something that was possible. Vincent would never allow it. Turning your head to face him, the tip of your nose brushed against his cheek. Yet for some reason, you didn’t pull away from him this time. Was it because you didn’t need to fear Vincent catching him with you? You weren't sure. “Are you telling me you didn’t enjoy my food, Mr. Hartfelt?” 

You laughed as he dramatically gasped, pretending to be offended at the question. “Why I thoroughly enjoyed your food, darling! I can’t believe you’d ask such a question!”

“Well, you did imply-”

“I implied naught! You must be hearing things!” He interrupted, causing you to erupt into a fit of laughter; something you haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing since you were sold. Despite those thoughts entering your mind, you didn’t allow the memories of your sellage to ruin the moment between the two of you. “Your laugh is rather intoxicating, my darling.”

Those words made you freeze, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t in fear, it was in embarrassment. This man truly knew how to fluster you, didn’t he? Looking towards him, you had to admit to yourself that you had missed Alastor’s presence. He made you forget about your husband. About all the bad things that had happened throughout your life, and even when they did consume your mind, it was so easy to brush it off with Alastor by your side.

“You shouldn’t speak to a taken woman like that, Alastor.” You teased with a strange sense of confidence that you hadn’t attained in almost a year. “I might start getting the wrong idea.” You didn’t know where the confidence came from, but you couldn’t resist teasing this man. Despite him seeming so composed and well put together, he always seemed to allow you to bring dramatic and expressive reactions out of him.

“I think we both know you’re far from a taken woman, darling.” He almost whispered.

As you stood there, taking in his oddly attractive appearance, your heart began to thump as you digested his words. Your eyebrows furrowed. He was aware you were married, right? “What are you implying?” 

“Darling,” His fingers reached for your face. You watched attentively as your breaths became faster, anticipating what his next actions and words would be. Slowly, the back of his hand caressed your cheek, and you instinctively found yourself leaning into his touch.

“Why are you wedded to a man who you hate?”

Because you had no choice, is what you wanted to say. Because he hurt you, because he bought you, because he essentially owned you.

Because he would kill you if you left him.

But you didn’t say anything.

You only pulled yourself away from him.

← 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 ✦ 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 →

✦ 𝙰𝙾𝟹 ✦

@cherry-cola-100 @hana-en @undrgroundtheme @roxxie-wolf @mutifandomkid @gentle-aesthetic-bby @itsmskeisha @k1y0yo @d34dl0ve @reikamasama

[pretzel-box]

Heya! It’s me again, so I was playing pressure with a friend to yap about the lore going on there and showed them that you can die to Sebastian and was reading my death file when I saw that the recover or rescue team came by to pick up our bodies (my friend died as well to get the badge LOL) So being a person who runs on caffeine and 4 hours of sleep, How about a Experiment reader (Anytype of monster and gender) gets caught by the recovery team, gets experimented on again so they’re pretty much brainwashed to take out Sebastian and/or get the crystal? Angst ending or Fluff ending is fine! You might be hearing me yap about the lore LOL

🍀

Tags: GN!reader, mentions of experiments and drugs, Reader is brainwashed against their will.

Words: 1,1k

The facility's cold walls pressed in on you, the sterile air thick with the metallic scent of blood and chemicals. Your last memory before this suffocating darkness was of Sebastian. His face, twisted with anger—or was it sorrow?—was the last thing you saw before everything went black and your mind shut off completely.

But now, your body aches. Something had changed, yet you failed to pinpoint it directly. Based on your view, you were in a pristine lab again, hooked up to machines, wires connected to your arms and chest, pumping something into you—something that made your mind foggy and distant, as if it didn’t belong to you anymore. The recovery team had found you, and instead of rescuing you, they brought you back into the nightmare you had once escaped as if your life was a tape that ran on repeat. It all felt so sickening familiar and at the same time so strangely because of the mysterious medication they gave you.

You tried to focus, but your thoughts slipped like clear water through your fingers. Every time you tried to grasp at a memory, it flickered out of reach. A dull pain echoed in your skull, reminding you that they had been tinkering with your mind—reshaping it, rewiring it. Urbanshade was doing what they did best: using you, turning you into something else. Something that isn't supposed to exist.

They had injected you with something, a serum meant to restrict your personality, to make you loyal, silent, more compliant. But the worst part wasn’t that type of change—it was the mental fog they forced upon you. They weren’t just changing a piece of your personality. They were changing your mind. Slowly, you could feel yourself slipping away, the edges of your personality dissolving into something more mechanical, more obedient. You were becoming their weapon, molded for a single purpose.

And that purpose? Sebastian.

“Target: Sebastian Solace. Mission: Retrieve the crystal. Kill on sight.” The robotic voice from the intercom echoed in your mind, a constant reminder of your new objective. It wasn’t you, but it felt like it was. The brainwashing had worked, at least partially. You wanted to resist, but every time you tried, pain shot through your head, and the objective reasserted itself like a brick wall blocking your escape.

They had turned you into a weapon to take him down.

Days, maybe weeks, passed as you walked through the hallways of the blackside, sharpening your new instincts, your new state of mind. Each mission drilled into your mind left you more detached, more focused. Every muscle in your body responded to their commands, every thought sharpened to fulfill the one goal: track Sebastian, retrieve the crystal. It was all you knew anymore.

But deep down, something still clung to life inside you, like a flickering ember of who you used to be. The memories of Sebastian—his voice, his calm determination, and the fleeting moments of connection you shared before it all went wrong. You weren’t sure if it was guilt or something else, but it kept gnawing at the corners of your brain, threatening to tear down the programming.

And then, finally, the day came. You met again.

The facility’s doors slid open, and you stepped out, breathing in the fresh, crisp air that felt almost foreign now. The world outside had moved on while you were trapped in Urbanshade’s clutches, but for you, time had frozen. Your eyes scanned the horizon, senses on high alert as you tried to track Sebastian down as best as you could without any helping tools. He wasn’t far. The crystal wasn’t far.

Your body moved like a predator, silent and swift through the shadows as you made your way to his hideout that served as a small shop. Urbanshade’s command echoed louder with every step: Kill on sight. The words pulsed like a heartbeat in your skull, tightening their grip on your mind.

And there he was—Sebastian. His tall, lean figure stood in the dim light of the facility’s lower levels, his back turned to you. He didn’t see you yet. You could feel the crystal’s energy pulsing from somewhere nearby as well, drawing you in like a beacon.

Your muscles tensed, ready to strike.

But then, something in you cracked. That flicker of memory, the ember of who you once were, flared up. Images flashed before your eyes—Sebastian smirking at you in some shared moment, his voice calming the chaos around you, his hand brushing yours in quiet moments that neither of you acknowledged aloud. The mission screamed in your head, demanding you act, but your heart thudded louder, pushing back. You fought the control, teeth gritted, hands shaking.

“Don’t do this.” It wasn’t your voice, but it was a part of you. The real you.

Sebastian turned, his eyes locking onto yours in an instant. For a moment, surprise flickered across his face, quickly replaced by something darker—recognition. He knew what you were here for.

“Of course,” he muttered, his voice cold, though his eyes softened for a split second as they traced your form. “They got you, too.”

You stood frozen, torn between your orders and the memories fighting to resurface. The sharp edge of the mission still lingered in your mind, urging you to finish it.

But the way he looked at you—so familiar, so human—made it hard to move. This was Sebastian. Not just the target, not just the mission. He was something else to you, something more. And Urbanshade couldn’t take that away, not completely.

“Are you really gonna go through with it?” His voice broke through your haze, slicing through the confusion in your mind. “After everything?”

Your hands trembled. You were so close. The crystal was there. The mission screamed for completion.

But you dropped your weapon.

Sebastian didn’t move, didn’t rush to you, just watched as you struggled, the conflict playing out on your face. For a moment, you were sure the pain would split your mind in two, the commands so deeply embedded that disobeying felt like tearing yourself apart.

Finally, you spoke, your voice strained. “I… I can’t.”

Sebastian’s eyes softened, though his posture remained guarded. “Then don’t.”

There was a silence, heavy with tension and something unspoken. You had disobeyed. You had failed the mission, but it didn’t feel like failure. It felt like freedom, even if just for a moment.

The pain in your head began to recede, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt like yourself again.

But you knew it wouldn’t last. They would come for you. They would fix you, break you down, rebuild you into their weapon again.

Sebastian seemed to sense it too. He stepped closer, his hand brushing yours for the briefest moment. “We’ll figure this out,” he said, voice low. “But we have to go.”

You nodded, though a part of you knew there might not be a way out. But for now, you had one thing—Sebastian—and that was enough.

As you turned to leave, a weight lifted from your chest.

[bean-bean2000]

The Maid - Part 4

Pairing: Loki x reader (on going series)

Warnings: Angst, abuse, mental health (depression, mentions of suicidal thoughts), swearing, mentions of torture and rape.

Please read at your own risk. Your own media consumption is not my responsibility. Please read and review the warnings before proceeding.

Thank you and enjoy!

Part 3 Series masterlist Main Masterlist

🧹🧹🧹

You don't see the king for a few days following your conversation in the kitchen, however, he specifically requested you be placed back as his personal maid exclusively and indefinitely.

You were surprised to have not seen the snake in a while, assuming he had taken some time off. However, once word got out that the king specifically requested you as his maid, the energy in the maid's quarters shifted negatively towards you.

The guards, albeit not the snake, continue to beat you every chance they got.

"You think you're special because the king requested you?" one asked as he hit your face.

"Is that why the snake is missing? What did you do to him? What did you say to the king?" he yells at you as he grabs the collar of your shirt and punches you once more. You can hear the bone of your eye socket lightly crack.

"We knew you're a witch. You cast a spell on him. That is the only reason he chose you. Admit it!" another yelled at you and kicked your side.

"Where is the snake?! Did you curse him you filthy witch?!"

"Maybe we have to burn her at the stake!" one shouts.

"Maybe, the king chose you because you're just a really good whore" followed by another slap.

"Shall we indulge in what the king is so intrigued with, hmmm?" they snicker as they approach you menacingly.

You're too weak to fight back as they tear off your night shirt.

Doubled over in pain, they notice the bandages around your torso.

"Oh, what is this? I heard the snake had you whipped. Who would want to fuck a whore with such ugly scars?" he spat at you.

"That's revolting. How could anybody ever want you. You're disgusting." another spat at you again.

Your eye is swollen, lip bleeding. They laugh as they walk away and leave you in agony, bleeding and barely conscious on the damp stone floor.

You cough as blood spills to the ground and you push yourself up to walk back to your cot.

Exhausted and in pain, you leave your bandages on, without airing out your wounds and cleaning them. You can feel that they ripped open again, blood spilling onto the bandages, soaking them once more.

You're too tired and broken to care.

You fall to your bed, laying on your stomach and pass out.

The next day you are scheduled to clean the kings office. You wake up and notice your cot is stained with blood, so you go to the common bathrooms to bathe. You turn around and notice your night shirt is also soaked in blood. You take it off but it sticks to your skin, and you observe your back. They bandages are soaking wet and the skin around looks yellow.

You're eye is purple and swollen, your lip is split so badly it hurts to speak.

Banner isn't here for another few days, you ran out of the balm, medicine and have no spare bandages. You decide its best to leave them as is, and simply wash the rest of your body with a cloth. You convince yourself that you can survive a few more days before his return.

You're slower than usual, your back pulsates in pain, unable to properly heal from the constant movement of your work and the never-ending abuse from the guards. You can feel yourself getting warmer and stickier everyday, sweating more than usual.

Walking to the kings wing proved to be extremely difficult in this state. Every movement cause pain to shoot through your body, crumpling you over and having you groan out loud. It takes you significantly longer to reach his office, for which you are scheduled to clean for the day.

Unfortunately, it is the one area of his quarters that requires the most stretching to get between shelves and corners. You sigh and grab your supplies.

Taking a deep breath you start to climb the ladder and stretch to clean the top shelf of the library. You hiss as you work, doing it as quickly as possible to minimize the pain.

Are the consequences of the king's disappointment in my subpar work better than sustaining the current pain I'm in?

You slowly walk down the ladder.

Taking deep breaths you focus on finishing the each task and distracting yourself from the pain. It has been long over 2 hours by now since you started cleaning. Clinging onto the library, you feel your head spinning, you're panting and sweating.

You place your head down against the shelf to steady yourself.

The door to the office opens with a loud click and you pause in fear. You hear shoes clicking on the tile, bracing yourself with fear that it is the snake or any other maid manager that has come to reprimand you for being so slow.

"P-Pardon my tardiness. I- I am aware of my sluggishness. I am unwell and f-finishing soon.'

You're shaking, you can't bring yourself to turn around and face who may be there. Suddenly, you feel yourself swaying, your vision gets blurry. You grab onto the shelf to steady yourself but your weakened state has you slipping. Somebody catches you and you scream out in pain from the pressure on your back. The last thing you hear before passing out is "What happened to you?".

🧹🧹🧹

You wake up, laying down on your stomach. You shiver at the cold and realize your back is exposed. Your heart starts beating erratically as you push yourself up in an attempt to flee.

"No! I'm sorry, please!" you scream as you try getting yourself up.

Your shoulders are pushed down roughly and your head is forced down to look at the ground. You being to sob and shake.

"No... please.... stop..." you whisper between sobs.

"Hold her down. This is going to hurt."

Your head snaps up at the familiar voice. "Banner?!"

He simply shushes you and tells the man holding you down to keep me still.

You hear some liquid sloshing out of a bottle and spilled onto a rag. The doctor approaches you and places it on your back, dabbing the flesh. You screech in pain.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. It's severely infected. I have to clean it with alcohol. Be brave for me." Banner says to you as he continues cleaning your wounds.

You're screaming and crying out in pain until you can't anymore. Eyes sucked dry from tears and throat raw from screaming.

Suddenly you hear the door burst open.

"What is going on?!" he sees your wounds as you lay bare on the table.

"Norns, what happened?" he says in disbelief.

"I don't know. I went looking for her and found her in your study. When I approached she fainted and screamed when I caught her. That's when I noticed her back. Her entire attire was soaking in blood and sticking to her open wounds. I have to clean them, they're severely infected. She may die." Banner explains.

"Couldn't you have knocked her out first?!" he questions angrily.

You can't see who is speaking and you can't hear over the pulsing in your ears. You're mind is focused on the pain in your back that you don't notice him and Banner approach you. One more dab to your wounds and you pass out from the agony.

He curses and grabs the rag out of Banner's hands.

"Bring her to my chambers, carefully. Make sure nobody follows." He commands to the guards.

"I need to figure out what is happening within my castle's walls. This is not how I rule my palace and this is not how I will let the guards treat my staff." He turns on his heel and walks out.

Reaching his chambers, the guards gently place her on her stomach in his bed. He reaches his window and opens it, as his beloved pet flies to the ledge. The crow caws for greeting.

"Hello my pet. I have a job for you. Find out what is happening in the maid's quarters. I want names and details. You have never failed me, don't start now. Report to me by morning." The crow caws in response and flies away.

🧹🧹🧹

Part 5

Tag list:

@gruftiela

@elegantcheesecakecrown

@chxco-hyujin

@cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson

@i-am-amora-the-enchantress

@cakesandtom

@dorck26

@buckitostan

[minho-hoho]

Shush

☾ GENRE ➝ yandere, mafia

☾ PAIRING ➝ yan!mafioso!yeonjun × gn!reader

☾ WARNING ➝ yandere themes, mafia related themes, violence, blood, murder, etc...

☾ REQUESTED ➝ no

☾ WC ➝ 0.8k

☾ NOTE ➝ uhh i actually wrote this and a quite lengthy taehyun one shot but it got deleted so sksksks i just lost hope and stopped coming to tumblr for a while srryyy

MASTERLIST

you were shaking under the covers of your bed, as if the almost constant state of fear you were living in wasn't enough, yeonjun had to do his business in your house. the screams and threats were freezing your blood, you were terrified that anyone would get hurt, and that you, would get killed because of what you considered yeonjun's reckless behaviour. for someone who claimed to only want the best for you, and only acted with your best interest in mind, he sure was being dangerous towards your safety. the only thing you could do was wait patiently, praying that whatever thing he was doing, was ending soon.

you heard a scream of intense pain followed by a loud thud. the voice didn't belong to yeonjun, but you didn't know if that reassured you any better. did he kill someone in your house? you wanted to get up and check up on him, and what happened, but the thought of the possibility of seeing a dead body laying on your living room's floor was frightening.

you carefully tiptoed to your bedroom's door, and tried to listen to any sounds that might come out of the living room. for a few seconds, only a dead silence fell on your ears. the silence stopped as a string of curses left yeonjun's mouth.

quietly, you slightly opened the door, enough for your voice to be heard.

“yeonjun..?” you called out his name, your voice quivering a little.

his eyes immediately darted your way, looking at your figure peeking through the door. not knowing what to say, he stared you, his dark gaze piercing your skull.

“what happened, is everything okay?” you asked, a bit reluctant, not being able to decipher his emotions.

yeonjun sighed, looking at the corpse laying next to his foot.

“this is what happens when you decide to go outside and disobey.” he walked towards your door.

it was true, you went outside and went out with some friends when you were forbidden to do so, as yeonjun was scared that the wrong people would get you and him, and hurt you. you regretted ever going out with someone heavily involved in the mafia world, in every step you took, you were reminded of the risk that and of the chances that you'd get harmed by anyone in the opposing mafia to yeonjun's. and on top of that, you added his obsessive and overly protective behaviour towards you, you deeply regretted ever agreeing to go out with him, your mental not being able to take any of yeonjun any more.

but even if what you did was objectively dangerous and stupid, did that mean that he had to kill someone? at this point, you didn't know whether he did it to protect you, because of his borderline psychotic and obsessive behaviour or because he simply enjoyed witnessing the death of over human beings.

“because of what you did, people now know about you, and i need to kill even more people for you.” he was now in front of you, towering over you, maintaining a chilling eye contact with you.

“no matter how much i warned you, you still went against my directions. do i need to threaten you? to show you the corpses of the people i've killed? because i can, and i will if that's what you need.” shivers ran through your body, you knew that by working in a mafia he had to do some shady stuff that potentially involved ending some people's lives. but you never thought he'd kill some people because of you. especially if it could have been avoided.

a wave of guilt washed over you as you felt at fault for the death of many. your shoulders dropped, and tears started to well up in your eyes. yeonjun's eyes were piercing through you in the silence. you looked down to your feet, remorse still eating you, you took a shaky breath before muttering low excuses, your voice unstable.

unbeknownst to you, yeonjun was smirking. his efforts were paying off, he had successfully manipulated you into feeling culpability for things you didn't even control. he was now sure you'd never leave his side, which was his ultimate goal, it was all he dreamt of.

he sighed, before taking you in his arms, startling you a little. “it's okay, just, don't do it again, okay? let's not spill more blood than needed. be careful, and as long as you follow my orders to the letter, you'll be safe and happy.” his shirt was now wet by your tears, you nodded, determined to not make any more mistakes.

yeonjun grinned, he kissed the top of your head. you sobbed in his chest, as he softly rubbed your back, trying to comfort you back into a happier state.

he finally achieved his most important mission, and he was more than overjoyed inside.

PERM TAG LIST! : @stacey-stonem, @sh1mzu, @axartia, @echantedrose, @leeknowbuttsmasher, @nikipedia07, @deafeningballoonnacho, @scrumptiousphilosopherunknown

[alcinaslittlemaid]

🎈𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕?🎈

Pennywise 17x Papawise 90! XFem!?Reader

HUGE TW⚠️

I’m depressed again so y’all know what that means?

Comfort and kisses!+Fluff! from the 7ft clown 🥲🎀🎈

Tw: Self harm mention, thoughts of Sewerslide, shitty mental health, medication mention, mental breakdowns, attempts of overdose! Emetephobia!!

The fluff begins in the second ���——

Grab a cuppa tea or coffee and Enjoy! 🍷

—————————————————————

You curled up against the large plushies propped up against the wall of your bed, your whole body shaking, your eyes stung from constant tears that streamed down your soft cheeks. Your medication had not worked, causing you to stay up later than usual after pennywise tucked you into bed, before going on a hunt.

You cautiously got up, your mind blank, almost as if you were in a thoughtless trance, you began to make your way to the bathroom. Dried tear tracks coating your face, your pressed a sharp, metal blade into your arm deep, fresh tears dripped down your face, blood gushing out of your arm as you picked up a bottle of pills from the cabinet and began taking them all at once. Stood there staring into the mirror, the room began to spin violently, your throat filling with vomit and your motions becoming mindless and slurred, you became dizzy and suddenly everything went black as you numbly felt your body smack into the floor. ————————

You felt your body be lifted from the cold, hard bathroom floor, spit trailing from your lips causing a long line of drool behind your body.

“Is she alright?” A gruff voice echoed out in your unconscious state “she will be…” a raspy voice answered back as the sound of water sloshing filled your ears in an echoey way “what in the georgies dismembered arm happens to her arms?” The gruff voice sounded concerned “Long story, I’ll tell you don’t worry” the raspy voice replied. Suddenly, your lips were pressed against another pair, air filling your lungs “Come on Y/n” one of the voices puffed “

You sat bolt right up coughing and spluttering “fuck-“, you choked, vomit filling your throat as you puked into the murky water “Aughhhhh- Ayghhhh” you panted “Cough it up doll, it might be a gold watch” papa chuckled, happy that your alive “Now come here” you were suddenly dragged into a bear hug by pennywise, his soft, silk suit rubbing against you “Oh little lamb~ you scared me half to death, I thought you were a goner” You swear you could hear his voice breaking, his heart was racing in his chest

“Come here darlin” papa said pulling you into his arms, holding a fresh cup of water “here clear out your immune system a little” you nodded and almost downed the water immediately “Woah, Woah Woah doll face, slow down you’ll give yourself hiccups” he chuckled again before laying you down in penny’s nest pulling the blankets over you, penny dragging an anti bacterial wipe over your gushing arms “ARGH SHITT!” You snarled in agonising pain, papa smacked your head with a newspaper he was reading “language babydoll” he growled as he kneeled down by your arm, wrapping it in bandages and pinning them up “Shhhh it’s okay pet, shhh”

Finally, either clowns crawled in on either side of you snuggling into you with they’re arms snaking around as you all fall asleep, protected, snug and safe.

Penny’s hand snakes into your hair, drawing little circles on your scalp “Mine precious dolly” he purred drooling slightly on your chest❤️

—————————————

I’m sorry for this sob story but again my mental health has declined rapidly so it’s a bit personal 😅

I’ll try not to post as much upsetting stuff

Love you all ❤️❤️

[enaelyork]

Love all of your headcanons and posts!

What are your headcanons for being on the ship and thrown into another galaxy with Exile Thrawn?

Hiii i'm so so so sorry for delay ! I was sick and my work takes so many time. So here we are =D So many things to say about, so i decided to limit myself to the very beginning of the exile. Hoping you like it.

There's a lot of talk about officers appreciating and admiring Thrawn for his military prowess, but you're clearly not one of them. For you, Thrawn got to his position by luck and above all - and you must recognize this - because most Imperials are idiots.

However, you were assigned to the Chimaera, which did not help your good relations with your superior. You are also very surprised to see the calm with which he handles your protests. Because you are the first to contradict him, the first to never agree with him and... Very strangely, the one who spends the most time in his office.

When the incident took place, when the shock carried you and the entire ship into the unknown, you were unable to contain your anger. You were afraid, but above all, you were mad with rage against him who predicted everything and who was not able to anticipate this catastrophe.

The idea of ​​being stuck there, somewhere, far from everything with him is literally unbearable for you. Seriously ? You would rather end up in a sandy desert and die of thirst.

You notice that despite the fiasco you are the victim of, Thrawn remains surprisingly calm when observing the damage to the ship. Yet there is something hovering above him and you are unable to define it. It drives you crazy this constant indifference to everything that seems to happen to you because of him.

In your own way, you try to act to find a solution. You note the damage suffered by the ship, count the number of deaths. Discovering that some of your friends did not survive the shock is difficult for you to take. The worst ? Report it to your superior who remains impassive in the face of your distress and the seriousness of what is affecting you.

After several days of struggle, your body becomes exhausted as much as your mental strength. Nothing seems to allow you to be located by the Imperial forces. Nothing tells you where you got lost. Distraught, on the verge of a nervous breakdown, you notice that Thrawn is watching you.

And it’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

You walk up to him, your eyes filled with anger and tears, and throw your badges at his feet. Deciding that being far from the empire allows you to free yourself from its authority. You scream. You fume to see him so indifferent, so impassive while there are still lives to save on this ship, that the empire needs your help.

He lets you explode, remaining impassive in the face of your anger. The truth is that the anger you direct at him is also directed at you. You are unable to admit that despite all your efforts and the accumulated fatigue you are unable to find a reasonable solution.

You thought you would make him react by putting yourself in this state, but he just asks you if you are finished and leaves without another word.

At nightfall, when you have been in exile with him for several weeks now, you are wandering aimlessly in the carcass of the Chimaera when you notice a light on the main command deck. Thrawn's shadow casts over you as you sneak in to spy on him.

He looks defeated, the light from the holoprojection further stretching his already tired features. Even though he remains in a deep state of concentration, what you see on his face that evening upsets you more than you would like to admit.

Trouble. Disappointment. Pain. Guilt. Thrawn probably realizes that he will be stuck here for a long time and that he will miss important feats of arms for the empire. That he will be cut off from the world and his loved ones for much longer than expected.

And it breaks your heart.

On the holovid, you discover that the Grand Admiral has also put his time to good use. Rather than looking for a solution inside the ship, he has undertaken excavations outside and numerous symbols are projected onto the central table. Symbols that you have already seen in books when you were a student and which are not that foreign to you.

-Dathomir. You said in a breath. The look he gives you then petrifies you in a strange way. As if your heart had just stopped beating and started beating faster than normal. Had you ever realized the intensity of his gaze before this moment? You put these strange emotions down to fatigue before he speaks.

-Perhaps we have before us the solution to all our problems, lieutenant. He whispers in a monotone voice. You are stunned by the amount of work he has accomplished in such a short time and you are angry that you were so wrong.

-Will you help me? He ends up murmuring at your silence. That’s when you realize he hasn’t taken his eyes off you for many minutes. After a brief moment of hesitation, you end up nodding your head.

-I've never been very cooperative, but I'm willing to make an effort. You admitted slowly, eyes glued to the ground.

-Stay as you are. It’s your spirit that I’m going to need to bring us back. For your mind and your intelligence.

These words hit you like a crashing space cruiser. It’s violently sweet and you’re not sure your heart will survive it. Either way, you're convinced this is the start of something different. That this exil will introduce you to Grand Admiral Thrawn like no one has ever seen him.

[tallowandport]

Here's the start of my very own mlp Infection au! Here's part 1 and part 3

Some basic info about the stages of infection, with lil traditionally drawn concepts to accompany them. I apologise if my handwriting is hard to read at points, lol.

I will put it under this cut because I've drawn some monsterish-body horror stuff and a lil bit of blood, so if you don't want to see it, don't read more.

(Edit: I will also write a transcript describing what's written under the cut for accessibility, smh can't believe I forgot something so simple.)

[transcript:]

Stage 1: Victim experiences a sudden and drastic growth spurt regardless of age.

Growing pains are persistent and severe.

"It feels like things are growing out of my bones" - a quote from the victim.

"There is something itching under my skin." - another quote from the victim.

[pictured below is a nervous looking pony that is now almost twice the size of its original state.]

Stage 2: The growth spurt has developed into a far more worrying mutation, as it has continued to grow and lengthen the victims bones; to the point where their skin has become taut and strained.

Reduced movement as a result.

Small cuts have appeared all over the victims body, though the victim swears they don't remember getting hurt.

Victim is also experiencing mental fog, and sleepwalking has developed.

[pictured below is a haggard looking pony that appears to be suffering from dehydration and malnutrition, but in actuality it looks like that because its skin has become so taut and stretched thin its basically being shrink wrapped. It has also grown even taller and more spindly. the cuts on its body look like cat scratches.]

Stage 3: The victim is hostile.

Brain function has deteriorated, and victim has ceased any identifiable efforts to communicate.

Bone growth has not only worsened, but ligaments and joints have begun to fail- leading to dislocations and visible disfigurements.

The cuts observed on the victim in stage 2 have grown and begun to swell.

Taut skin has begun to tear due to victims now violent movements.

Strange shapes are forming under their skin.

Mane and fur loss.

[pictured below is a creature only resembling the general structure of a pony. it is bald, its jaw has dislocated and hangs limply from its head, it's eyes are wide and bloodshot, the cuts on its body now resemble pustules. Looks almost entirely skin and bones except for the few places where the skin has torn and hangs limp like the skin of an old popped balloon, muscle and bone exposed underneath.]

Stage 4: The victim can no longer be recognised as a pony.

It has been twisted into a new shape.

Its skin now hangs of f of it in torn rags, wrinkled and sagging from the constant strain.

Sharp and jagged bones protrude randomly from its body.

It has gaping dark holes littering its body.

The "cuts" from previous stages have split open and revealed themselves as hundreds of new, bloodshot, eyes; always rapidly looking around.

Its jaw bone fell out, and now it just swallows its prey whole.

It's hunger never seems to be sated.

[pictured below is a monster. the stage 4 report describes it mostly. but it does also now stand entirely using its exposed leg bones. its hooves appearing to have fallen off at some point. And it's mouth has split vertically all the way down its neck.]

[ibrithir-was-here]

I'm kinda feeling like crap lately too so might not be the best person to give advice but here goes:

Our modern western life is really not conducive to mental or emotional health (or really any kind of health for that matter) so the unfortunate effect is that what should be a 'normal' state really takes so much work to achieve.

Social media, news, click baits - we are constantly under attack by things that harm us mentally, whether it's chasing that dopamine or overwhelmed by what is going on in the world or just the constant negativity we're surrounded by.

And then there's just the inescapable realities - a loved one is sick or our relationships are going through a rough patch... and sometimes we just don't have the support around us to weather even the minor things.

So here is my (sus) advice on how to cope:

However hard it is, however vulnerable it makes you feel, find someone you can open up to. I know that feeling of "I have nobody" but sometimes it's because we're too afraid of being annoying or driving someone away to be willing to truly open up, but I think most people *are* willing to listen to their friends and we're just too worried to give them that benefit.

Get off the internet. I know this is *hard* because so often we're turning to the internet to cope or find connections or talk with friends, but time away *is* so so so important. Even going into autumn (in the north anyway) it's good to just go outside, breathe in fresh air, listen to birds, just do something that gives our emotions a chance to settle down again.

If outside is truly not an option, then a quiet place - maybe beside a window, maybe put on 'nature sounds' in the background - and try your hand at meditation. I hate how much this actually can help because it feels like it should be a scam but it really can help the brain recover from some of the barrage we're getting.

Walking or any kind of mild exercise, the body and brain are inexorably linked, and doing good things for the body can truly help. One trick I've employed with myself is "If I were my own pet how would I treat me?" and then do your absolute best to be the best "you" owner ever. That means going for walkies, drinking water, eating well, getting plenty of sleep and affection.

Journaling can help get the thoughts and feelings out of your head.

But I think the best thing I can offer is no matter what it is, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how bad you feel... it *does* get better. The pain will ease in time, the brain can be taught that it's not always red alert time, for all the horror in the world the march of time is still moving toward better.

I just want you to know that you are seen and you are worth the effort it takes. Your life and happiness are worth the effort and I know there are people out there who would love to put forth that effort if they are given the chance.

I hope good things for you

(you don't have to publish this if you don't want, it's alright.)

Thank you 🥲💛💛💛 I'm actually tearing up at work here. These are all really good points, and a lot of what others have said to, and I really should be better at remembering them 😅

I'm gonna read over this again once I'm off work tonight and yeah, start trying to be more intentional with my self care. Thank you again 💛

[its-my-whump]

Whumpril 2024 - Day 9

Self-doubt

@whumpril

Tw: some disturbing mental shit, real/unreal suicide attempt, not what it seems, mental issus, hospitalisation

It's disturbing, I'm not sure, what just happened, it wrote itself

'I'm sorry, I'm no fun tonight.' Face sad, head sunken, words clear, but thick with pain.

'Bitch fucked me over. Feels like I handed my heart on a tray. And despite my better judgement, I was trusting this person so deeply, that I simulatiously handed a wooden peg, begging to do anything, but use it against me. My guts told me all along, that there wouldn't,

NO!

couldn't

be a happy ending. There wasn't, cause this person didn't even have the decency to sharpen the plug, but drove it through my heart,

dull and thick as it was, ripping it apart. The healing process seems impossible now.

How could I be so blind? Why haven't I learned my lesson till now? I'm wandering this world for decades by now, but yet I'm still lost.

But this person made me see a path. I knew, we weren't ever going to go it together. Still, I naively hoped for a, if not loving, at least friendly pad on the back, for a goodbye. All I got was a painful hole in my heart and the realisation, that I all did this to myself by trusting, yet I knew, I couldn't, I shouldn't.

I'm just not meant to be happy. I just don't deserve it!!!

Words were swimming before her eyes. Partly from ink desolving from her tears, partly from booze and pills slowly desolving inside her body, entering the bloodstream.

It was a cowardly way to go, but who cares.

Life had no meaning anymore. It even only had for a brief moment, where this person made it sparkle. But it was merely an imagination, a ly to oneself. Life wouldn't hand out presents. Bitch never did!

Hands shaking. It was the stress and emotional pain. Once the pills unfolded the desired effect, it would finally be okay.

Eyelids were getting heavier. The pen was gone, whatever. Arms and legs had stopped shaking, numbness started to spread, slowly. A good feeling. Surrender. Willingly. Embracing it and the spreading darkness. Finally, life had brought her to her knees. Finally bitch won. Let her! She was fighting unfair all the time, she had earned this.

And so had she!

Eyes closed and a peaceful light silence took her into a loving, warm embrace.

×××

He felt heavy, depleted. Eyes prayed open agonisingly slowly. His body was disconnected from himself. There was a constant beep. Brightly light was blinding him, even after he had closed his eyes again.

Trying to move, his arms weight a ton and he could merely lift them a few inches, being stopped.

'Not again!"

Thick leader cuffs bound him to the bed. A beared face was looking down at him. He moaned, as the doctor waved his penlight above every eye.

"Again?" His voice raw and his mouth dry, tongue too heavy.

"Unfortunately, kid." The man's voice sympathic, almost a bit sad.

"How long?" He weakly asked, pressing his eyes close, trying to deal with the pouding headache and the tiredness of his body.

He had an episode again. Remembering it getting harder by the second. Felt like he lived a whole life as a desperate woman being left and wanting, no actually killing herself. His head was spinning.

Every episode was different. But every feeling, he was experiencing was so overly real.

Roaming around in the desolving memories and the heaviness of what his mind just went through, his eyes were just staring ahead.

"Had to sedate you again. You were out for 2 whole days." The doctor stated, trying to lock with his eyes. A desperate huff came through his nose and he pressed his eyes close in desperation again.

"Where have you been this time?" The man in scrubs wrote down some notes on his patient sheet, when he forced himself to open his eyes again looking up from the bed.

"Bad place." He wispered, not willing to give more information right now. The doctor kept silent, watching him patiently over the rim of his glasses.

"What did I do in real life, then?" He asked, his forehead in a fearful wrinkle, his voice even more defented, but he forced himself to look up, his face paled.

"Attacked 3 nurses and went rough in the community area."

He pulled the blanket over his head, as a muted "Fuuuck." came through the fabric.

The shaking, that overtook his body brought back the feeling and memory of 'last night, writing a suicide note' living a life, that wasn't his own. It made him silently plea, he had the chance to end all this for real. He didn't know, who he was, what was real and what was happening around him, when his mind was lost in the void.

The doctor's calm voice pulled him out of his depressing thoughs, when he started to speak again.

"It's only light collateral damage. Not more than a bloody nose and some bruises. Mr. Wilson and Mr. Peters. They are not holding a grudge. Shackles are mandatory, though. Sorry, kid." A momemt of silence followed.

The doctor pulled the blanket down, revealing his patient's eyes. "We have to adjust your medication again. I'm sorry."

My masterlist

[knaivcs]

[Continued from HERE.]

@flosalatus:

"And you think this is how you do it!?" Tears in his eyes, voice catching on the horrified yell, gesturing sharply to the burning rubble around them.

No. Enough.

He's had enough. Enough of the pain, the violence. Running and running and running with no end in sight, the constant physical and mental fight.

If Nai- If Knives is so delusioned that he won't stop hunting Vash, no matter what, then maybe he can finally make it stop if he has nothing left to hunt.

The hand around his gun trembles in it's usually steady aim, a hiccup stalls in Vash's throat before abruptly, the angle shifts and the gun is pressed to his own temple and without his glasses, lost in the collapse of the buildings, Vash's eyes blaze with wild anger and desperation.

"Is this what it'll take to make you STOP!?" He begs for one last sign he can get through to him. A sign that the threat alone might work, or at least change something if he pulls the trigger.

"You don't have to keep taking it out on the world if I'm not in it, right? Right!?"

"Human history was recorded in hopes that they dare not repeat those same mistakes, Vash. They're resistant to growing beyond their basic animal impulses: greed, rage, cruelty, mindless procreation... You know the events in which I'm referring to. How can you stand there and tell me that they are worth saving, have you forgotten? Have you lied to yourself for so long, that you actually believe it?"

It wasn't a matter of 'wanting' to do something, this was necessary for their continued survival. This ever-repeating argument, the same drawn out song and dance... and Vash claimed to be exhausted of it all? Knives is sick of it, too. That was the entire point of his plan, to emancipate their kind once and for all.

"Don't make me do something I'm going to regret..." he states calmly, but with a distinct edge of menace, his coils of blades at the ready to deflect another hail of bullets.

His eyes widen in disbelief as Vash turns the firearm on himself, instinctually taking a step forward and raising a hand in genuine panic. His blades try in vain to knock the gun from his grasp, but the movement only elicits an even worse reaction: his sibling thumbing back the hammer.

"Vash, DON'T-" he tries to shout over the other Plant's voice while he appears to be in the throes of a near manic state of rage.

He wouldn't... He would never-

Oh, but wouldn't he?

He'd been in a comatose state after the incident, mind wiped clean like a blank slate of their horrific discovery. Waking to an emaciated and frantic Vash, both he and Rem still recovering from their wounds- Wasn't that all he needed to know about how Vash managed to handle his volatile emotions? He'd had a very lax control over his own impulses from the beginning, but it seems that the fraying rope keeping his brother from being swallowed by the torrent of his own feelings is about to break.

The long, snaking tendrils of blades fade back into the cloak draped around Knives' body. Where there once was annoyance and anger, his eyes are now tinged with fear that palpably spreads through his nerves like roots from a tree.

"Brother... Please," he tries again, softer and less demanding, trying to somehow break through past that inconsolable despair. He's almost afraid to approach at first, unsure of how twitchy that trigger finger might be. After taking a long, slow breath inwards, he lets his hands fall to his sides.

"There is no point left if you do this, you know that. You'd be dooming them to an excruciating death at my hands anyway. And without you, I'd..." he trails off, as if putting it to words might curse them.

"I have no other reason to live, without you."

[messyguess]

October 2024

Pregnancy has been an incredibly difficult journey for me. Bombarded by articles with titles like, "Millennials Choose Happiness Over Having Children," "American Women Exercise Their Right To Not Have Kids," and "Given The State Of Our Planet, Does It Make Sense To Have Kids?"—the pregnant women on my Instagram feeds caption their pregnancies as "The Most Blissful 9 Months Of My Entire Life." I felt there was no space for the in-between. The glowing feed from my phone screen paints only polarizing pictures of this entire experience that feels so intimately mine. I just couldn’t—and can’t—relate to any of it. The lack of that middle ground made it harder to take deep breaths and stay present. But my body has reminded me every day that the only speed I could truly excel at was the speed of one present day. My mind, which normally operates days, months, and years ahead all at once in a glorious multiverse of thoughts, had to come to a sputtering halt at the altar of my womb as she began her work.

With near-constant heartburn threatening to topple my throat over, I found—and still find—it hard to plan like I used to. Is that what parenthood is? Would I lose all my carefully laid plans to the mess of the present? Would I stumble as I walked and never remember the feel of the assured run? Or could I work with this pace and readjust?

Before having a child, I promised myself I wouldn’t throw away everything I had built—that I wouldn’t reconstruct a world based on reaction instead of intentionality. I spent so much time creating my life, learning about my inner workings, my partner, and our unique place in the universe. I found peace, happiness (coming and going, but mostly coming), and strength. I promised myself I wouldn’t throw that all away to give in to chaos. But in this first test, these nine months tried me in ways I never anticipated. I stumbled a lot. I cried and will continue to cry, like I’m trying to solve the water crisis with my tears. Oh, so many tears. I questioned everything, with my hormones playing my heart like a sad, frantic fiddle.

The first trimester felt like the world was closing in. The second trimester cleared my head, but my body started to feel like a trap in a lot of ways. I began to feel my baby girl kick, and I was in awe, but I also missed my pre-pregnancy body. The third trimester is when I felt the strongest, but as I got closer to birth, my body filled up with exhaustion. My pace slowed down to the movement of a glacier. I feel like a glacier—immense and slow, filled with an immeasurable density that drags me down physically and mentally.

Then the birth. Hours and hours of contractions to expand all the space of my birthing canal. My husband by my side—so close, yet not close enough. Not able to reach me in this small place I had crafted in my head to handle the level of pain. What a solo journey. Did it feel lonely? No, not at all. It felt like I was everyone. Every version of myself smashed together into one being, for once. No dissent among the cast, just one orb of energy and force. The epidural I whispered as a need to my husband at the start of the most painful, soul-shaking contraction didn’t work. And that was the mental green light I needed—the acknowledgment that no one was going to get me through this but me. I had questioned the mantras of inner strength I’d spoken to myself up until that moment. In that moment, I knew the words were hands holding up piles of sand, watching grains sneak out between my fingers. My beliefs cemented themselves into me, until the epidural didn’t work. Then, it was a gift. To be gifted a level of pain and to know I was strong enough—stronger than I’d ever imagined.

Now the baby. The perfect, sweet baby girl, like a relentless storm in my life. Actually, I take that back—a storm is not enough to contain who she is. She is water in every form. Sometimes she’s sprinkles, pitter-pattering on leaves, leaving me feeling at peace. And sometimes, she’s the 50-foot supernatural waves that haunt the sea.

I am in awe of the emotions she charges through me. A level of care and love that leaves me a bit shaky. No one has ever mattered so much to me—no one ever will. I cling to my partner, my lighthouse husband. His light stays on for me, reminding me I’m okay, she’s okay, we’re okay. We’ve hit the three-week mark since her birth. Every day has felt like a saga. I break the days out from the nights in my mind, never letting them meld together, because I need to know the end of a day is truly the end. My footing, as it has been since the start of my pregnancy, is loose and shaky. I try not to hold my breath. I can’t hold my breath and lie in wait for the day of assurance. I know that to reach it, we need to work for it as a family. Every day we take together, we build this foundation.

[thevintagegossip]

Roller coaster:

This ache is so painful

The ache In my bones

From my toes to my throat

Wanting to speak but with holding vulnerability

I want you to know

I wake up with a million thoughts to start the day

A trillion emotions as I’m already riding the wave

And it feels worse that the bed is empty

My body the only one lying facing the ceiling

But it feels safe

Safe like you don’t have to see my brain

See the pain I wake with every morning

The struggle to find a way

To convince myself there’s more to life than just today

Or tomorrow

Or the next day

That mental illness can’t win

And I’m still human within

I still have valid feelings

You just can’t see the bruises and beatings

That over half my childhood was robbed

And I spent the beginning of adulthood in constant sobs

I’m sorry

That the weight of my traumas feels heavy for you too

That’s why I keep distance when I’m talking to you

And it causes me more pain

But if smiling is what makes us somewhat okay

For some type of relationship or friendship to remain

I’ll keep my lips sealed dimples in place

I’ll hide the clouds above my head and speak about sunny days

Even if the same flashback is on replay

Pretend with me like I’ve seen better days

Cause I’m working through the pain

Building bridges to better states

Of my mental

Watching them tumble down

When my emotions become my own sweet torture

But I’ll build them again

If it means I’m getting somewhere

Somewhere different than yesterday or last year

Last night and the placements of my fears

I’ll keep trying

Hold back my tears

Till I am alone and processing forgotten years

I promise

I’m not as crazy as it seems

Just my seems come undone when the triggers are setting me on fire for fun

And my mouth feels like a mix tape stuck on repeat

While I’m divided in a mental film of my own life

Pleading to myself to change the subject so

That in 10 minutes I won’t dissociate and have to explain

Why I over shared when it was just a comment that was made

Within the hour head out to go hide away

Can you please choose to stay

I won’t beg for understanding

Or hold the choice over your head

But even with my darkness

I’ll light up your day

And

I’m worth loving

I’m not one to walk away

Or judge you for your flaws

I’ll sit with you through it all

If you can accept my imperfections

I just need patience and acceptance

While I go through growing pains

[justasmallbloginabigklainefandom]

@sohereswhatyoumissedlastweek replied to your post “Anyway I spent four hours straight up crying while...”:

Oh no!! Why? :( the course too hard?

​AAAAAAAAAAAARH

Yeah, basically. Today was the same. My main problem is that the way I express frustration is crying, wanting to scream, biting myself, pinching myself, pulling my hear, ripping stuff apart, hitting things and throwing with stuff. (Rip to this textbook, I have thrown it a lot and at one point started slamming it against a chair.) (Also, no worries, I never bite or pinch to hurt and I don't actually tear out my hair. I hate pain too much for all that.) (It's more that I have all this pent-up anger and I need to hit shit.) And when I am in this mood, literally everything around me pisses me off and I lose my marbles over the littlest things. My entire body is tense and my neck hurts and feels hot.

Yeah, I know. Not Good.

Basically I am constantly on the brink of tears when thinking about it. Even now I am digging my nails into my hands and biting my fingers because I am already getting so ticked off. (Although, writing this down does feel good and is probably healthier than, you know, throwing my book against a wall in rage.) (That did feel good, though.)

So this course is absolutely kicking my ass because I don't understand shit and every time I think I do, I make an assignment, only to have, like, 90% of the questions wrong. Aka cue screaming and tears. And the worst part is that I don't see the point, which is apparently a huge deal for me as well. Idk what it is called in English, but nutsprincipe is a big thing that I am working on, because if I deem it useless, I have a hard time doing shit. This is what my post about bullshit is about. I genuinely do not see the point of this except for Frege to sound smart. I see no use for it at all. Why do we need a fucking formula language for pure thought, so that we can use these formulas to mathmatically calculate thought? Isn't the whole point of philosophy that reality, however you want to define is, cannot be boiled down to a simple formula? If this was exact science, I would at least partially understand it, but come on, you want to create a clear cut formula for language that discusses existence? Leibniz and Frege, turn on your locations, I just want to fucking talk.

AND on top of that, I have been feeling unwell with stress from the last 2.5 weeks because my entire degree is so much I honest to God cannot handle it. So on top of all the frustration and stress of this one course, I am also in a constant state of stress because I have so much to do and I can't find a way to relax, because the only way I can relax is to not do it, but then I don't get it done on time and if I miss one thing I am behind A Lot. One course has a week off, since my teacher is somewhere else, and it is such an immense relief because it saves me reading 3 other papers of idk 100 pages in total. If I also had to do that on top of all the reading and assignments for this week, I don't think I would've handled it. Like, we're not even a month in and I am already on the verge of some sort of mental breakdown. I am constantly tired. I am so tired.

This further isn't helped by the fact that I also have a lot of problems with another course and I feel kinda bad about it. Everyone keeps telling me not to, since this degree is specifically made for people without philosphy knowlegde, which is why the first year is basically a speedrun of philosophy, but every damn time I am in class I realise that others did get it, and that also frustrates me. Like, everyone starts talking about the "obvious conclusion that they read at the end of X" and meanwhile I have read X three times and I had no clue that that was written down there.

Again, I am not even a month in!!! Jesus Christ, but this crappy feeling is unbearable so I am already wondering if this is good for me. It unfortunately reminds me of 2019 which I have dubber The Worst Year, where I was also on the brink of a burn out and couldn't do anything else but cry and only the thought of my thesis made me burst into tears and made me feel like crap.

AND I like my degree, despite everything. I want to do it. I want to understand it (expect for the formula logic, because fuck that for reasons mentioned above.) I look up my future courses and I am excited, so I am sort of holding on to that thought as some sort of fucking lifeline, because in my frustration fuelled thought spiral I did start to fear that I had made a mistake by doing this. YET I don't love it. Others do. Some people were talking about how much joy this brings them and how privileged they feel to be able to do this and how they bike to university, thinking life is beautiful because of this degree. I don't think that, so like Eleanor Shellstrop, it feels like I am literally surrounded by people who are better than me and who belong more. AND I AM AWARE that I shouldn't compare myself. I usually am very good at that, but well, frustration-fuelled-thought-spiral be upon ye!

Not good. I know.

I did find a stress ball but I am at my parents' home and I didn't have that so unfortunately my parents had to endure me at my worst for 2 days. I had a full breakdown yesterday at dinner, mostly because this was just 2.5 weeks of utter shit. Oops.

Am I dealing with this? No, not at all. I need to figure out how to, because this is bleeding into everything. After logics I needed to read a chapter for philosophy of cognition and I still had all that anger in me that I still kept acting out, which obviously didn't bode well BUT I did find a new way to blow off steam. Cause I was slamming books and hitting tables when I realised my mum has one of those Ring Fit Adventure rings, which is made to be pushed in!!! And that's how I did fucking excercise and I fucking hate this but it works because I just smashed through some monsters in Ring Fit Adventure and everything was fine after that. (I hate exercise and sports btw. Fucking dispise it. I am actually not familiar with these positive effects of excercise, because it usually makes me feel worse because I hate doing it.)

I don't have this game on my Switch though and unfortunately we live in the world of digital games, so it's downloaded on my mum's Switch AKA I cannot pop a cartridge into mine. This is why I always say that, if possible, you should still buy your games in physical form! It has resell value AND you can share it. Fuck digital only!!!! (And yeah, great, this works, but I am not paying another €80 for this game.)

I did add my mum's account to my Switch so that the game *is* downloaded on mine, but Nintendo has build a "fail safe" or whatever it's called into the Switch. Other accounts can only play titles from other accounts if it's on a Main Console of the account that bought it. So I can play it with my account on my mum's, but not with my account on mine, because the video game industry fucking sucks nowadays. Anyway, what I am trying to say is that I am gonna attempt booting up the game on my Switch from my mum's account but then see if it's possible in-game to pick mine again, since that is possible in this game BUT I am afraid my progress will not move over to my Switch because again shared saves is paywalled BECAUSE OF COURSE IT IS IN THIS DAY AND AGE.

(Also, lol, Hard Times from Paramore just started playing.)

ANYWAY, this did end on a rant about the video game industry, but yeah, thanks for letting me indulge in writing this whole ass essay.

[professionalwhining]

On Pain.

“We remember our bodies in pain or worry about the threat of pain. we remember them in illness or the idea of illness. We fear the fragility of our homes. Whenever pain has passed, if it has passed, we marvel at its strength. But mostly, we ignore the body in all its constancy. As partners, we are hugely disloyal….” -Yrsa Daley-Ward

Whenever I’m in pain I remember what John Green famously wrote: “That’s the thing about pain, it demands to be felt”

Physical pain has been my faithful companion since a young age. I grew up, as you would when you have high function anxiety, doing all kinds of sports. I played tennis when I was little and then eventually started running. There was a time when I was sort of good, so my parents paid for this really high-end facility so I could train with professionals (in hindsight, I wonder how we even afford that? The things parents do for their kids are unreal). There, I experienced pain for the first time. It wasn’t only that I was pushed beyond my limits but the demands and stress it put on my body were enough for me to complain every day about my knees, my neck, my feet, and even my back (that was only the starter for what was to come). I think that when you do sports from a young age, you sort of normalize pain. I mean, it is painful to run for two hours straight. And yeah, of course, you learn about discipline and endurance, you learn a lot about yourself as well. But being in pain is a very uncomfortable place to be. So imagine thinking that this. is. normal. An ok state to be in.

The last couple of years though, I’ve had quite a different experience with it. Because, before, this pain was something I could live with. I mean, I could pretend that it just wasn’t there and just live my life. But later, it became disabling. I couldn’t go to work because I couldn’t move freely in my own body. I felt literally, and metaphorically, paralyzed. I went home and discovered that I had a herniated disk in my back and a weird neck, which explained a lot but not everything. According to specialists (from different backgrounds), I’m actually in a lot of pain mentally. men. ta. lly, which causes my body to be in constant tension and alertness. Ready to strike. In retrospect, I’ve always had this fierceness about me, like a warrior, always ready to fight. it took me some time to realize that the danger was coming from within. Now I understand why I shed a tear in a class when a teacher said ” No tension, only attention.”

Today, as I understand that my body is constantly reminding me that something is wrong, I am able to find ways in which to attend to the real wound, the cause of all this physical pain. Now, I understand that, when I am not paying attention, when I am not taking care of my inner life, this body of mine tries to kindly let me know by going off.

My neck and back have been the worst of my suffering because, quite like my dear friend Atlas, I’ve been trying to carry the world on my shoulders. Turns out, this imaginary world, does not need to be carried anywhere. it’s fine as it is. it is time for me, and you as well if you are in any kind of pain, to imagine a new way of living. Make up a new world of my own.

I learned something very valuable from being in constant pain. it can be profoundly grounding. Pain reminds us that we are going to die. But that, as Yrsa Daley-Ward reminded us, is the only death that we will not survive.

so what if we live a little before that?

xo

[ajwinter-is-a-nerd]

Le Chat Et Le Serpent - Chapter 56

Please note that the entirety of this story is a ****TRIGGER WARNING***** - mentions of child abuse, graphic violence, alcohol use, mental health, suicide, suicidal ideation, self-harm - basically a constant blow of pain towards the characters - as well as some "steamier" moments.

Chapter Summary:

Chloe gets Akumatized. Luka is getting fed up.

Chapter song (included in body) is Everything I Wanted by Billie Eilish

Hopelessly, Chloe looked back up at the building, as if maybe she could suddenly understand. Clutching her broken phone, her tears of hurt and confusion ran freely. With her emotionally blurred vision, she barely noticed as a purple butterfly landed on her phone. 

“Jesus, Chat! Are you drunk or something?” Ladybug screamed as he stumbled on the roof. 

He let out his baton to balance himself against the tilt of the roof. “No, sorry M’Lady, just a little sick.” 

Carapace put his arm around Chat, keeping him steady. “Dude, you can probably sit this one out.” 

Together, they looked at Chloe’s Akumatized state. Lila’s failures were all but clear as Chloe sat, a merely larger version of herself, in the Seine. She was sobbing, but her tears weren’t a threat. They didn’t thud with force, nor did they threaten the water levels of the river. The only thing dangerous about the situation was Chloe’s own self-despair.

“No! This might be a trick! Chat, distract the Villain!” Ladybug ordered towards the buckling hero.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Chat tried to deny Ladybug. “M’Lady, don’t you think it would be better if Rena sent a Mirage of me?” 

Ladybug burned red, how dare he? “No! Chat! Get over there and distract her!” 

The disagreements brewing to be voiced among the holders were muted by Chat leaping forward to Chloe. He rubbed the trickle of blood coming from his nose. Was Plagg right? That all it was, was an additional stress response? Did he have some uncontrollable urge to follow anyone’s commands?

It felt strange, standing on top of the ‘abandonment bridge’, as he liked to call it, to look at Chloe heartbroken from his own heartbreak. 

“Chloe?” Chat supported his weight on the railing of the bridge. 

“What?” She grumbled before wiping her nose. 

“Don’t let Lila take your power away. Don’t let her take your control.” Each word was weak and raspy. 

Chloe tilted up her chin to see the dishevelled hero. Blood still stained the underside of his nose. 

“I’m… I’m so sorry.” Chloe trembled as she passed Chat her phone. 

Lila was screaming in Chloe’s face, but she was not phased. She’d lived her entire life with her mother’s shrill voice spitting at her. 

Seeing the Akumatized object land in Chat’s hand, Ladybug zipped beside him. He continued to hold the phone as he spoke to Chloe. 

“Thank you, Chloe. You’ve done really well today. I’m proud of you.” Chat nodded his head to her, not thinking of the consequences of Ladybug taking the object from his hands. 

“Good job, Chat.” Ladybug praised him before she crushed the phone. 

“NO!” Chat screamed, dropping his baton into the water. 

The purple ink was blotting off Chloe as she fell into the heavy current. 

Chat had no idea if she was ignorant or malicious as he saw magical ladybugs dropping from his peripherals. Chloe’s head had already fallen below the surface as he struggled through the icy water. Even with super powers, it doesn’t help if you don’t know where the person is. 

The tower. She was crying while staring at Adrien’s apartment. Why was everything so dark?

Her skin felt heavy as she tried to force her eyes open. She couldn’t tell what direction was which, all she knew was that her body was moving. Spinning like laundry in a washing machine. 

Stretching out her arms she grasped for anything to ground herself. To stop moving. Anything. 

A shine of silver slid past her. The metal burned her fingers as she clung to it. 

-

The baton kept slipping along the ground as he used it to propel himself over the water. The other holders were running to help, but Chat had no idea if they would get there fast enough.

Bringing his baton up again, it lodged itself in the ground, throwing off his balance. He spiralled through the air before plunging into the dark waters. He wished he’d thought to power up Plagg before leaping over the water. 

The water rushed through his hair as he started recoiling his baton. As it got shorter, he finally saw what had thrown off his balance.

-

Water shot up and onto the crowd that had gathered near the edge of the water. Chat held onto the end of his baton with Chloe tightly against his chest. 

Shifting his weight, Chat tilted the baton to drop towards the walkway edge. He landed firmly against his knee and boot. Carapace quickly took Chloe from his arms to bring her towards the waiting ambulance. 

“Chat! You should seek medical attention too, you might get hypothermia!” Pigella ran towards Chat who now rested with both knees on the cement, his wet hair dripping past his face. 

He lightly shook his head. It would be too risky. To get any real help he’d need to detransform. 

“It’s okay, I’ll take him. Come on, Chat.” Ladybug lifted him off the ground. 

“Thank… thank you m…” Chat’s vision went dark. 

-

Pink.

All Adrien saw when he opened his eyes was pink. 

He blinked again, were his eyes playing tricks on him? 

The room smelled sweet, an aroma of fresh bread and sugar. 

Blink. 

A photo board was beside him on the wall. Countless of pictures of himself, including the first one of him and Luka together. 

Was he in Marinette’s old room? 

How did he get here?

“Oh! You’re up!” Marinette beamed. “I’ll be right back!” 

No! 

How did she convince Ladybug to take care of me?

What the hell was Ladybug thinking? 

Marinette came up with a beaming smile and steaming hot chocolate. “Here, to help warm you up.” 

He carefully brought out his fingers to take the hot drink. 

Does Marinette know I’m Chat now? 

“What a crazy night! And isn’t it amazing how things work out?” Marinette’s excited jittering shook the bed, threatening the stability of the hot drink in Adrien’s hand.

Overwhelmed, Adrien took a sip from the thick drink. It burned his lips, but was a soothing warmth that trickled down his neck to his stomach. His head was thudding, but it wasn’t the headaches he was used to. It felt like nails on a chalkboard, but didn’t pull in any direction. 

“I just,” Marinette fiddled with the blanket in her fingers, “can’t believe all this time… I was in love with you and you were in love with Ladybug.” 

Adrien choked on his hot chocolate, sending some of the burning liquid through his nose. 

No.

Noo.

NOOOO.

Why didn’t I see this before?

This is why Ladybug has given me nosebleeds too.

I have nowhere that’s safe. 

“Oh, sorry, I should have broken the news a little easier.” Marinette dropped her head. “It would have been so much nicer if Viperion would have just agreed to help us share our identities.” 

Luka. Luka knew. He had to. Why would he keep that from him? Did she really ask him?

“Marinette… did-did you really ask Viperion to help?” He rubbed just above his temple. He’d dreamed for years of finally knowing who was behind the mask; now it felt empty, like a terrifying trap. 

“Yeah, but then you guys dated and he let it go to his head. He knew that we were meant to be together.” Marinette snuggled her head in Adrien’s lap. 

Adrien held the hot chocolate tighter in his hand. Simple things, such as steaming mugs, worked as a reminder as to how much had changed. The hot ceramic felt entirely different against his hand than it would have months ago. Now, with a thick layer of scar tissue along his palms that there was a disconnect from himself and the mug.

He stayed in that position until she fell asleep and his hot chocolate turned cold. He was frozen. There was nothing left. 

Chloe was thrown away. 

Nathalie’s international dealings made her more absent than Gabriel. 

Alya and Nino were going to have their own family, not like he was allowed to see them much anyway. 

Luka only existed as a memory, cruely pinned to a cork board of obsession. 

No. He still had Plagg. At least he had Plagg. 

-

They say before you start a war

You better know what you're fighting for

Well baby, you are all that I adore

If love is what you need, a soldier I will be

Angel With a Shotgun by The Cab

-

Adrien stood before him, smiling with his emerald eyes shining. “I mi~ss~ed you!” 

Luka ran towards him, was it really him? 

Every time he stepped closer, Adrien grew greyer. 

“Adrien!” Luka‘s shout came as a whisper. 

Sand started to trickle down the sky, falling along Adrien’s skin. He held his palms out to the harsh downpour, it rawed his hands. His eyes looked back at Luka, but they weren’t emerald. They were flat. A lifeless shade of paper. 

“Get out of the sand!” Luka tried to yell again, but could barely hear his own words. 

The sand fell over his head, it became dry and lost its shine. When he brought his eyes to Luka again they were swollen, a deep violet pulled nearly down to his cheekbones. 

Why was he staying in the sand? Why couldn’t Luka get to him? 

The sand pulled at his skin, taking his soul from his body. His cheeks started to cave as he watched Luka in fear. 

“You’re too late.” 

-

Luka wheezed as he woke from his nightmare, his head pounding. Throwing his hand to the side, it hit flesh. 

Adrien?! Luka pulled at the blonde haired man beside him in elation. 

The man flipped to his back with a thump. Coffee brown eyes opened in confusion. 

“Hey, you.” The strange man smiled at him. “Did you sleep well?” His hands started to slide across Luka’s chest. 

Gritting his teeth, he refrained from breaking the man’s fingers as they trailed over the Miraculous tattoo. 

“Are you okay?” The man lifted his head to approach Luka’s face, his hands running up to Luka’s jaw. 

“Get out.” Luka growled.

“What?” The man took his hand back, genuinely confused. “I thought we had a good-,”

“Get the fuck out of my room.” Luka stood from the bed to go to the hotel bathroom, nails constantly drilling through his head. 

As he washed his hands he could hear the slam of the door. Stumbling out, he witnessed Sass hovering over the room in dismay. Each day Luka seemed to fall apart more. 

Ignoring the dissatisfaction from his Kwami, he checked his phone. Countless of notifications flooded him for things he cared nothing about. Finally, he found the daily update he was waiting for.

Nathalie: We need to meet up. I’ve found something extremely important. 

Thank God. Luka thought to himself. 

The next familiar name made his heart drop. 

Adrien: LADYBUG ASKED YOU? TO HELP REVEAL IDENTITIES?! Did you fucking know? Did you know that Marinette was Ladybug? 

Fuck. 

“I should be there. She’s torturing him.” Luka grimaced as he grabbed the half bottle of schnapps off the floor, downing approximately three ounces. 

“You need to stop hurting yourself over things you can’t control.” Sass stated, trepidatiously watching the bottle tip into Luka’s mouth. 

With the edge taken off his headache, he stepped in front of the mirror. He’d forgotten that his hair now had a shock of electric blue through it. 

-

Sitting at the back of the limo, Luka pressed the soles of his shoes against the edge of the leather seat perpendicular to the one he was atop. Slumping, he struggled to understand why people still flashed their cameras at tinted windows. 

The radio softly played in the background. 

Broken mirrors and broken thoughts 

I want you here, don’t you know that?

“Turn it off!” Luka shouted to the driver. 

Confused, the driver checked back at him through the rearview mirror. 

I love you more than I can bear

Why can’t I just come home?

“I said turn it off!” He shouted louder than before. 

Finally comprehending, the driver shut off the music. He felt the man in the backseat was too on edge to be told he could control the music himself. 

The producers kept latching on to the songs that he wrote about Adrien. He tried to suggest other songs, but it always came back down to the same response. Those ones were more real. They were heartfelt. The contract only protected them so much. 

Luka literally signed the paper to his own despair. 

-

“Late, again.” Nathalie opened the door for him. As she limped towards her chair she shared her distaste for Luka’s state. “You look like your father.” 

“Abandoning the ones you love. Sounds like I took on a few of his traits.” Luka took the smoke out from behind his ear. 

Frustrated, Nathalie pulled the smoke from his hand. “Do NOT smoke in my hotel room.” 

“Did you figure anything out yet, Nathalie?” Luka took the cigarette back and set it back behind his ear. 

“Yes.” Nathalie lowered her head. “I found a way to destroy the power of the rings without causing mayhem.” 

Luka pressed his elbows against the table, excited that his threat to go home may actually be justified, maybe even supported. 

“To end the line of the twins.” Nathalie stared into the wood grain of the table. 

“Oh!” Luka raised his hands to the side as he leaned back in his chair as fury shot through him. “Just that? All we have to do is kill him and Felix? Why didn’t we think of that before?” 

“I know.” Nathalie’s lips trembled at the blunt reality. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We’re not going to kill Adrien.” Luka gripped the edges of the table, preparing to flip it. “Are you seriously thinking that’s a viable option?” 

“Luka, I don’t know what we need to do! We need to find more answers but - but we can’t seem to find any!” Nathalie devolved to sobs.

“Nathalie. I’m tired of this shit. I want to go home. We can fail at research there too. I’m done. Felix is arrested. Adrien is making midnight calls of terror. I can’t do this anymore.” Luka stood up, despising that she got his hopes up for the opportunity of a lead to tell him that they might as well just kill the twins.

“Luka, remember that you will kill him! Until we figure out a viable plan, with Marinette and those rings - it’s too risky! Every time he comes that near to death he is going to lose a part of his cognitive functioning. If you don’t kill him… you’ll just…”

“Ruin him?” Luka rolled the edge of his smoke in his hand. “Have you been watching the news? Have you seen Marinette PETTING HIM LIKE A FUCKING DOG?” 

“I understand, but isn’t it worth it if we can save him?” Tears ran down her face. Why did she ever give the rings to Ladybug? 

“I’m going home. I’m not going to stand by and watch him crumble anymore. I’m taking Plagg and we’re going to cataclysm those fucking rings.” Luka preemptively stuck the smoke in between his lips.

“Luka… but… that could kill you.” She watched her fingers nervously toy against each other. He was willing to sacrifice everything. 

“At least Adrien would be free.” Luka shook his head as he walked towards the door. 

“And the beasts, Luka. The beasts…” Nathalie was already timidly hiding within herself. 

“The Kwamis have been around for years to handle dark creatures. Not everyone had a Gabriel.” Luka slammed the door behind him as he left. 

Author's Notes:

Alright real talk, I was pissed after I had written this and then later down the road watched the episode where Kagami gets akumatized and sits all depressy in the Seine. Obviously, the circumstances were quite different, but I made a humpfh noise nonetheless.

So - the message - with identity - what bothers Adrien the most is that Luka didn’t tell him and continues to ignore him. It’s not that he’s necessarily infuriated that Luka didn’t offer up the opportunity - but that it was hearing it from Marinette instead of him.

Luka’s ‘Fuck’ is in realization that they’ve now entered danger mode - it’s undeniable that Marinette knows she can control Chat Noir and control Adrien more.

Luka omg my heart. He’s trying so hard to dissipate his own hurt while trying to keep Adrien safe and it’s tearing him apart. Listen HE WOULD RATHER DIE THAN TO BE FORCED TO BE APART FROM ADRIEN ANY LONGER Because his vices aren’t working, but then again, they never really did.

I can see Luka’s sarcastic anger far too well when Nathalie’s like - Felix and Adrien can die? I have created their image and voice in my head to a scary amount.

I did not include 'Angel With A Shotgun' as a chapter song because we will see more of it later.

Disclaimer * The characters and original plot were written and created by Thomas Astruc. This writing is merely an interpretation in a sad gay type of way.

[aaesaesthetic]

Hey folks, this is a bit of a PSA for everyone, but mostly for my commissioners, as I’ve been stupidly slow with my work and I feel really bad about it. I want to post this publicly instead of just going into DMs, as I feel it necessary to let everyone know, as the general art front has also taken a hit.

Imma toss everything about it under the cut. I’m sorry it’s very long, but I feel I need to explain what’s been up with me behind the scenes.

My work ethics have been absolutely terrible, I haven’t been able to kick myself into gear to work for a very long time, due to various reason.

Last August, I started 2nd year of GAC (Game Art College) and while I knew 2nd year is the toughest of all 3 years, it’s been more straining than I thought. Subjects have gotten to me mentally and having me shut down. The theoretical subjects like math, chemistry and physics especially, as they require a lot of thinking and memory power that I just do not have. It’s been severe and demotivating, as a bad class could make my whole day topple over and I’d feel useless and worthless. Especially these past months during 2019 has been tough, as we’ve had a lot of projects overlapping and it just became a lot, I had a hard time keeping up. I still got a lot of tests to go through this month and 1 exam (which of course is chemistry), so there’s still some pressure to get through before I’m done with 2nd year.

Then comes all the physical issues. During these months of 2019, I have had A LOT of physical issues, I’ve been trying to either deal with or get fixed.

I had more back issues and was told it’s my FJS (Facet Joint Syndrome) acting up and it turns out, FJS doesn’t hit you in just part of the spine, as I thought. Once you have it, it can affect you through THE WHOLE spine. So I had some issues with that, affecting various areas of my spine. I’ve semi learned to live with the FJS, but it gets bad sometimes and I don’t always have access to somewhere to lie down for it to calm down.

Then came a severe jaw pain, I’d go around with for days before I finally caved and got a dentist appointment, despite not having the money for it and having to lean on my mom for financial help (which makes me feel real bad cause I know she don’t got a lot of money either) and it turns out I got a big hole in one of my teeth, that if not treated rather soon, it could turn into a root canal issue, which is painful and expensive as hell to fix. Not to mention during a fainting I experienced during Easter knocked a chunk off one of my cheek teeth, so I gotta get that fixed too. MORE money and more leaning on my mom, which gets to me mentally. (note that neither of these have been fixed yet)

Then came Easter. A few days before Easter, I started getting really bad pains in the lower regions of my back, by the tailbone. I thought at first it was just my FJ, but it was uncomfortable to sit and lie down on my back and nothing that usually took the FJS seemed to fix it. When I then actually felt it, I found I had a lump by the tailbone, so I went to the doctor with it. Turns out, I’d gotten a damn cyst there. My doctor gave me som penicilin and then told me to see if that didn’t work. I got home to my mom for Easter, but things just seems to decline and I end up practically being confined to either my bed or a sofa. I can’t sit anywhere, I can’t walk, I couldn’t do anything. I was getting depressed, alongside with the pain becoming worse. One morning, the damn thing had popped, I end up fainting in the bathroom, hitting literally everything in the bathroom on my way down. I was lucky and didn’t need to go the hospital with it, but while all I got out of the fall was a cut under the eye, a few bruises and the experience, we decided to go to doctor that same day to see about the cyst and if there’s anything that can be done. I get prescripted further, stronger medication and told I’d have to get it operated nonetheless, those things don’t disappear on their own. The doctor also tried my fainting into this, as it wass most likely from being in pain for so long, so my body just gave in. The pain continued. I didn’t last long, as the night therefore I awoke my mom to tell her I couldn’t take it anymore and if we could please go to the hospital. She got me to wait till morning and we’d call them. So we did and they told you to go to the nearest hospital with a surgical department. Me and mom ended up using our whole day in the hospital, as I got admitted in for surgery, but had to be fasting for quite a few hours before they could prepare me and do the operation. They did it though and I was operated. The pain from the cyst slowly subsided over the following 2 weeks time and I was painfree. For the most part.

A new problem had arisen alongside with the cyst. A constant tightness of my right leg. But as the cyst’s pain was greater than the leg’s, the leg wasn’t bad enough for me to notice or I just thought it was the cyst. But as the pain from the cyst disappeared, the leg’s rose. Over the past 2 months time since Easter, my leg has been gradually getting worse and worse and lately, it’s gotten so bad, some days I feel like I can barely walk, but I do it to survive and not get pulled down into a black hole again. My doctor have examined my leg several times and I’ve gotten several theories of what it could be, but nothing has held up and it hasn’t gotten better. Painkillers doesn’t touch it and it makes the days very hard to deal with. A few days ago, I did a bit of a big push, to try and get some proper help instead of just theories and waiting, cause I can’t take all this pain anymore. My doctor has given me morphine-based painkillers, that seems to take the worse of it, but it doesn’t do much and I’ve been assigned an x-ray scan in a 2 weeks time. Hopefully then, we’ll finally know what’s wrong with my leg and begin proper treatment, so I don’t have to be in constant pain.

All these issues and the pain has been very severe on my motivation and ability to work and while the right thing to do would be to refund the commissioners, I’m afraid I cannot do so. I do intend to do and finish my queue, but please do understand that my pace and ability to stay motivated has taken a big hit in the past few months, so my process is extremely slow.

This got ridiculous long and if anyone actually reads through all of this, I applaud you and thank you for taking the time out of your time to have listened to what seems like a kinda pity party. I just wanted to let you all what’s been going on and why things are like they are.

So again. I’m sorry. I’m working on it, but please understand things are tough.

I appreciate your understanding and thank you for your patience.