#but not how much trauma they gonna get again…
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So, I have thoughts about this. Because this is a concept that you can/have to look at from multiple angles.
From Tommy's angle, for example, you can understand it, considering some of the (more or less vaguely implied and some confirmed) history of the character. It's pretty clear he was hurt before. It's also clear (canonically) he has hurt someone before because he didn't know who he was and what he wanted. Mix that together, and you get deep-rooted insecurities and fears that make him project them onto Buck. It's not correct, it's not great, but it's understandable as a trauma/struggle response.
Now, if we stay in the text, there should be Buck's angle too. And this is where it gets a bit tricky, because Buck often truly does not know what he wants. He is impulsive and impressionable (so ADHD of him), and, while probably deep down having the right idea, often follows the lead of others.
He understood Josh's speech, realized the depth of his feelings for Tommy, and then over-compensated by asking Tommy to move in so soon (and into a much too small loft for two grown men, one of which has a Muay Thai setup and a garage at his own place, come on Buck!).
And now he heard Tommy's position, and I think it would track for him to at least partially doubt himself and his own intentions. While still feeling that yearning for Tommy, the depth of his affection towards him, he would also doubt himself and wonder if maybe Tommy is right and he has to figure himself out some more, has to kick off his training wheels and fit some kind of unwritten standard of experience in gay sex and gay dating.
Narratively, outside of the character's inner workings, however, this all REQUIRES a resolution. It REQUIRES Buck to realize that no, he does NOT need to fuck 10 more men and go on casual dates to know where his heart is leading him. And it REQUIRES Tommy to realize he's been punishing himself for mistakes of the past, and been reaffirming old trauma that everybody leaves him and he's not worthy of other people's love and faithfulness.
With how the episode ended, if we hadn't gotten all of those interviews and Lou now filming SWAT again and all that, we could still have hoped for that resolution. But this seems to be a final decision, no resolution planned in the foreseeable future. As so often, with so many other abandoned plotlines.
911 doesn't care about coherent writing and consistent stories, apparently.
Anyway, since this conflict is interesting and - despite what some of you have expressed - not OOC in my opinion, I'm probably gonna use it to write a fix-it. I can do better than Tim, who, I hope, steps on a lego at least once a week, barefoot, from now on.
The reason I don't like "I'm not your last, I'm your first" is because it perpetuates this very common idea that you have to have a ton of experience in order to know what you want. I'm not judging the people to whom this sexual ethic applies, I'm just tired of being told it's the only correct way to experience relationships and sex. It alienates the people who have thriving, lasting relationships with the first person they date or the first person they have sex with. Notwithstanding that Tommy isn't Buck's first, just his first man, and I don't really see why that makes a difference.
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Not the glitching pls I can’t do this again 😔🙏🏻
#real it’s gave me hard flashbacks#sure hope its means nothings#if i was the player i would be screaming in trauma i dont wanna be stuck in another digital world#but they have amnesia so they are fine#just headaches ig#khml beta spoilers#khml#khml player#spoilers#missing link#kingdom hearts#kingdom hearts missing link#if they drop in some - oops stuck in ditigal world with no connection to my friends - lore…#i will throw hands with nomura#at least we know player survives till the end#but not how much trauma they gonna get again…#beta#player#beta spoilers#WHAT DOES THE GLITCHING MEANS PLS DONT BE ANYTHING BAD HAAAAA
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HE HAS A GUN LETS GOOOOOOO!!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️
#alex rider#me from when i made that post about skeleton key would be so happy rn#ik hes probly not gonna murder yassen but still#yippie!!!! self defense!!! anything to keep my boy from being more traumatised although in this case i think the gun will actually give him#more trauma#but um yay!!! none the less#im not really that happy about him getting a gun#i just feel like i should celebrate considering how much i ranted about mi6 not giving him a gun#but oh well#some one please come save my boy before mi6 gets their hands on him again#eagle strike#alex rider spoilers
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Very late and very many thoughts, so I'm gonna utilize the read more function
“How the hell are you still consistently finding this much alcohol? We’re barely finding enough food.” Heaving himself up until he’s sitting on the edge of his mattress, Jake rests his head heavily in his hands as the world continues to spin around him. Still slurring slightly, he mutters, “‘s not enough. Two bottles a night aren’t helpin’ anymore. Nightmare’s back.”
😬😬😬
The water heater broke a few months ago and with no one left in their dwindling group who knew how to fix it, freezing showers had become the norm.
Not me adding "learn basics of fixing a water heater" to my to do list lmao
Jake used to use the board as his motivation to keep fighting, to not let more names be added to the list. But now that it contains so many faces of the people he cared deeply for or respected—you, Coyote, Iceman, Cyclone, Payback—it has become a constant reminder of all the ways he failed.
💔💔💔
Next to her, Bob scans the area just beyond the fence, his blue eyes alert behind his cracked glasses. With his unusual prescription, it’s been impossible to find a replacement after they slipped off his face running from a pack of creatures. He made it safely to the church in one piece—one of his lenses did not. Yet, he has never once complained or made excuses for his impaired vision.
Bob is just such a good soul 🥺
“Oh, Jake…” Your hands fly up to cover your mouth as your eyes continue to roam over his body. Yet even covered, he can see your jaw trembling as you cry, “Baby, what…We promised if something ever happened to the other, we wouldn’t give up. We would keep fighting.” “I’m still here, aren’t I?” Jake snaps. But then he wilts under the weight of your gaze. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he whispers, “I almost ended it—a few times. Drugs, booze, even thought I’d take my nickname literally. Made a noose and everything. But the thing that always stopped me was that promise. So, yeah, I–I’ve been a bit of a mess since you—” he gestures at your transformed self “—and I’m sorry. I tried to be strong but losing you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. We were supposed to face this hellscape together and I didn’t know how to cope without you so I let myself become someone that I hate. But now that you’re back—”
This broke my heart.. it shows how truly broken Jake is and that every day is a struggle with her for him💔
You turn to gaze into the darkness surrounding you. “It’s like acid in my veins, a constant burning fire in my gut that only grows stronger if it’s not satisfied. Blood’s the only thing that soothes the pain for even a few hours, but it’s never enough. I’ve tried to stop myself, I have, but each time I drink it gets hard to fight. And with every life I take, I feel a little more of myself slip away. I’m not the woman you loved anymore, Jake. I’m just a monster with her face.” Jake shakes his head with a firm set in his jaw. “No. I don't believe that. It's still you. Why else would you have looked for me? The woman I love is still here and she needed to see me just as much as I needed to see her.”
He is still so in love 🥺
“And I don’t care what you think.” Without hesitation, Jake crosses the remainder of his little haven of sunlight and steps forward to join you in the inky darkness. You cower back again but he takes another step to maintain the same distance between you. “You're not going to hurt me. I know that. Because you're so strong and brave and you can fight this–”
The way he believes and trust in her more than she does herself 🥹
This newest revelation is the last straw for Jake. A man can only process so much trauma at once before he reaches his breaking point. Falling to his knees, he hangs his head, tears dripping off his face onto the dusty tile beneath him as his shoulders shake with stifled sobs.
I just wanna give him a hug, this is a lot 😭
You fall silent again, but Jake just continues to cry with no acknowledgment of what you said. After a moment of this, you plead, “Jake, talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking. If you want me to go—” “Please…” Jake breathes, the weight of the past two years pressing down on him. “Please let me hold you.” “W-what?” Based on the utter shock in your voice, that is not what you were expecting him to say. It takes everything in him, but Jake lifts his eyes so they meet yours. “Baby, I need you in my arms again. To feel you, touch you, prove this is real. I have dreamed about you every night for two years. Horrible, bloody nightmares that have destroyed my life. I need you to chase those nightmares away.”
He is desperate for a moment of solace and how it was 2 years ago that he is willing to die for that 😭
“Jake, have you not heard a word I’ve said? I’ve killed our friends and I’ll kill you too. Or worse, I’ll turn you.” “I want you to,” he whispers.
He is so done with this life 🥺
“Please…” Jake sobs loudly, too emotionally and mentally drained to get to his feet and walk to you. “I can’t live without you anymore. I need us to be together, whatever that looks like.” “You don’t know what you’re asking.” “You’ve made it pretty clear. But I’m willing to bear the pain, the…the consequences of this choice if it means I can be with you. So, please, don’t make me spend one more second without you. Either kill me or turn me, but I can’t do this anymore.”
😭😭😭
Jake can’t wait any longer. He grabs your hand and pulls you into his chest, squeezing you as tightly as he possibly can. Your skin is icy beneath his touch, but he doesn’t care. He’s holding you in his arms again and nothing else in the world matters. Squeezing you tighter, Jake mutters, “No. It’s okay, baby. I want this. Just let go.”
He has already made his peace 🥺
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, black tears falling on his chest. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”
❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹
Soft moans and gasps that have Jake flashing back to all those times you were beneath him as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. And for just a second, he can bear the pain knowing he is giving you some semblance of pleasure.
He truly would do anything for her 🥺
Jake picks up the soft sound as it is breathed across the empty warehouse, his ears already tuning into sounds humans shouldn’t be able to hear. His eyes flutter open and just over your shoulder, he can see Bob and Phoenix bathed in sunlight standing at the entrance to the building. Bob has tears in his eyes, his lips whispering your name in horror as he watches the growing gory mess you are making of Jake’s neck. He glances back and forth between Jake and Phoenix, silently pleading with her to find a way to fix this.
Poor Bob 🥺
But Phoenix just stares at the pair of reunited lovers, her jaw set tightly. And Jake knows she understands. Phoenix always understands.
Of course she does 🥹
Jake is weak from blood loss and pain, but he manages the slightest of nods. Lifting two fingers to her forehead, Phoenix gives Jake a small salute in return.
What a small but beautiful goodbye between them 😭
Then she raises her flashlight. As the beam of light strikes your shoulder, your mouth instantly disappears from Jake’s throat with an agonized hiss as you try to flee from the pain. But using what strength he has left, Jake holds you in place. Smiling as every cell in his body begins to burn differently from before, he whispers, “Together.” And he holds up his hand which is cracking and disintegrating in the light just like yours. Though still pained, your face softens as you realize what he is doing. Transformation or death, those had been his choices. However, it turns out it wasn’t an “or” but an “and”. Reaching out, you link your fingers with his, your skin flaky and fragile in his grasp. You snuggle your head against the unbitten crook of his neck, whimpering slightly as the light does its job, and you whisper back, “Together.” Jake wraps his other arm around you and holds you close, silently vowing to never let go again.
Together 😭❤️😭❤️😭
The last thing he sees before his world slips away is the strangely beautiful swirl of particles of your two disintegrating bodies intermingling in the beam of sunlight.
A beautiful ending together, like they deserved🥹
Drink With Me (Part 2)
AI-Less Whumptober 2024: Day 6. self-sacrifice Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!reader, Vampire Apocalypse AU Summary: Two years after Jake was forced to watch you ripped apart by the creatures that now terrorize the world, he is a shell of the man he once was. However, a familiar voice calling to him in the dark may give him a second chance. Word Count: 5911 TW: Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Vampires, Character Death, Murder, Grief, Biting, Mention of Suicidal Thoughts, Drinking (alcohol and blood), Language Notes: Not beta read so sorry for any mistakes! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event! 💗
Series Masterlist
“No….No!”
He tries to race to your side, to stop the torment playing out before his eyes, but he is held back by hundreds of hands wrapping around him, pulling him away. Fighting against them with every ounce of his strength, he screams, “Get the fuck off of me! We need to help her! No! What the fuck are you doing?”
“She’s gone, Hangman,” dozens of disembodied voices whisper in unison from the darkness behind him. “I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing else anyone can do for her now. It’s over. It’s been over for years. You failed. Just as you continue to fail every night.”
“No! I can save her! Please, let me save her this time!” Jake sobs as he continues to struggle against whatever is holding him back. “Please!”
But it’s no use. He’s not strong enough. As he is dragged farther and farther away, he sees you lift your head one last time, panic and pain etched across your face. You lock eyes with him and just have time to scream a terrified, “Jake!” before one of the creatures rips your throat out with its teeth—
Jake bolts upright with a deep gasp, only to immediately collapse back onto his mattress with a pitiful moan. He grabs his head as it throbs painfully with every beat of his racing heart and he squeezes his eyes together tightly in an attempt to stop the world from spinning around him. But it does little to help. His nearly naked body feels sticky and gross tangled in his soiled sheet and he wonders if it’s just sweat from the nightmare, or if he vomited in his sleep again. Maybe both…probably both.
At least he is fairly certain he hadn’t pissed himself this time if the intense pressure in his bladder is any indication. However, he doesn’t have the faintest desire to crawl to the bathroom so he’ll worry about those consequences later. Instead, he rolls over and tries to push your final agonized scream from his mind so he can go back to some semblance of sleep.
Just as he begins to pass out again, he hears the curtain hanging around his small space being pushed back and the toe of a boot digs into his side. Without opening his eyes, he swats at the foot, trying to shove it away. “‘uck off, Phe,” he mumbles somewhat coherently. “‘s too early.”
“Tell that to the rest of us who have already been awake for several hours,” Phoenix snaps, driving her boot deeper into Jake’s ribs. When he tries to roll away, she sighs, “Do we really have to do this every morning? I’m not your fucking babysitter. Get up! Bob and I need your help setting up the trap while the light’s in the right position.”
There is nothing in the world that Jake wants to do more than ignore her and go back to sleep. However, she’s right. They do go through this every morning and by now he has accepted the fact that he can not win this argument. So, reluctantly, he peels open his eyes and squints up at her.
Seeing that some progress is being made, Phoenix removes her boot from his side and takes a few steps back. In doing so, she almost slips on the drink Jake had spilled the night before. Looking around his small space, she shakes her head.
“Jesus, Hangman,” she grumbles as she kicks a few empty wine bottles out of the way, sending them clinking across the floor only to crash into piles of more. “How the hell are you still consistently finding this much alcohol? We’re barely finding enough food.”
Heaving himself up until he’s sitting on the edge of his mattress, Jake rests his head heavily in his hands as the world continues to spin around him. Still slurring slightly, he mutters, “‘s not enough. Two bottles a night aren’t helpin’ anymore. Nightmare’s back.”
“Yeah, well, we’ve all got our own nightmares that haunt us and you don’t see the rest of us pickling our livers to deal with it.” She hurls a half-empty backpack at him which smacks into the side of his head, nearly knocking over his unsteady form. “Now get your shit together and meet us out front in thirty minutes. We’ve got work to do.” She stomps out of his little alcove to give him some privacy but then pivots to add, “And for fuck’s sake, take a shower.”
Forty-five minutes later, Jake steps out of the shower stall, a thread-bare towel wrapped low on his hips. He shivers slightly as he pads across the cold tile floor towards the sinks. The water heater broke a few months ago and with no one left in their dwindling group who knew how to fix it, freezing showers had become the norm. While they should be grateful they even had any water at all, Jake can’t help but recall a time when a hot shower was the best part of his day.
A soft gasp leaves your lips as he presses his bare body against yours, pinning you to the cool tile wall. Your eyes sparkle in the muted light filtered through the shower curtain as you gaze hungrily at him. Warm water flows over his back as he sinks into you—
No. No memories. Not now. Not when he doesn’t have the luxury of going back to his “room” and drowning them in booze.
Instead, Jake quickly dresses, trying his best not to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Half the time—when there is still enough lingering alcohol in his system—he sees your mangled corpse standing behind his reflection. The other half, he left staring at the shell of the man he had become. In some ways, that’s worse because he knows it would break your heart to see what losing you has done to him.
Even though sanitation supplies had only really become a scarcity in the last few months, Jake had given up the will for self-grooming long before that. The tangled beard covering his sunken cheeks is a clear indication of that as is the long greasy strands of hair hanging limply in front of the dark circles surrounding his bloodshot eyes. You had always preferred him clean-shaven and with shorter hair. But you were gone so he didn’t give a fuck.
Exiting the bathroom, Jake heads toward the front of the church. He averts his eyes as he passes the bulletin board that had been converted into a memorial shrine for those they had lost. He remembers the days when there had only been a few names and pictures up there. Now, the fallen takes up every inch of the board and spills out across the wall. Jake used to use the board as his motivation to keep fighting, to not let more names be added to the list. But now that it contains so many faces of the people he cared deeply for or respected—you, Coyote, Iceman, Cyclone, Payback—it has become a constant reminder of all the ways he failed.
Once, this rag-tag group of survivors who had dubbed themselves The Daggers had numbered in the dozens. But now, there are only a handful left. And with supplies and food dwindling quickly, there is no telling how long it’ll be before the rest of them earn a place on the board.
As he pushes his way through the church doors, Jake recoils as he is hit with the full brightness of the sunny day. His headache which had previously dulled slightly in the cold shower came rushing back with a vengeance. Groaning, he digs his sunglasses out of the backpack Phoenix had thrown him earlier and places them on his face. They were a cheap plastic pair Coyote had picked up for him on one of his runs to the pharmacy over a year ago, but they at least cut out some of the glare.
Phoenix is leaning against the fence with her arms folded across her chest, a scowl carved deep into her face. Now that most of those originally in charge were no longer with them, the title of leader had fallen on her shoulders. For the past few months, she had done everything in her power to hold the group together despite the increasingly dire conditions—and one jackass of a drunk who makes her life that much more difficult.
Next to her, Bob scans the area just beyond the fence, his blue eyes alert behind his cracked glasses. With his unusual prescription, it’s been impossible to find a replacement after they slipped off his face running from a pack of creatures. He made it safely to the church in one piece—one of his lenses did not. Yet, he has never once complained or made excuses for his impaired vision.
They were the best of the remaining survivors and had become the only real hope the Daggers had left. Yet they spent most of their days dragging Jake’s sorry ass around to ensure he didn’t drink himself to death.
Jake had been like them once: always stepping up when volunteers were needed, doing what he could to fix what was broken, protecting the people within their group. But he hadn’t been that person for the past two years. Not since he had watched you devoured before his eyes as he stood on these very steps.
It was that moment he tried desperately to avoid every night in his dreams. Reliving that day over and over again. Knowing all the moments he could have done something differently or acted faster that would have saved you yet being unable to change anything. Just forced to hear your agonizing final screams before catching his last glimpse of you whispering his name…
He needs to find more alcohol.
“About fucking time,” Phoenix mutters under her breath, pushing herself off the fence.
Bob shoots her a stern look, one that softens as he turns his attention to the new arrival. “Thanks for helping us out, Jake. We appreciate the extra hands.”
“Not like she gave me much of a choice,” Jake mutters under his breath. But seeing the way Bob’s shoulders slump at his words, he does his best to smile at him. “But I’m here now so let’s do this.”
Bob’s smile returns and he nods happily at the other man. As he turns to exit the churchyard, Phoenix shoots Jake another dirty look. He knows despite Bob’s insistence that she keeps dragging Jake along with them, she’s afraid Jake’ll screw up and cost her or Bob their lives. And it’s a fair concern. After all, it’s his fault Bob was almost killed the time his glasses were damaged. Jake had been drunk on patrol and hadn’t seen the creatures until it was almost too late to warn the rest of the team. While Bob never blamed him, Phoenix did. She tried to be as supportive as possible when Jake first began to spiral, but after the incident with Bob, she only tolerated his antics for the sake of her partner. Though not even she despised this version of Jake as much as Jake despised himself.
Jake knew what a failure and a screwup he had become. Yet as much as he wished he could pull himself together and become the man he used to be, he also knew that there was only one person who could help him do that.
But you were never coming back.
It’s amazing how much the world can change in such a short amount of time. In the three short years since the creatures first appeared, the center of town is now virtually unrecognizable. Vines and various foliage scale the sides of all the buildings. Cars are abandoned in the middle of the street, some with their doors still open as their passengers fled from them. Every window has been dark since the power grid failed. And without the constant upkeep, everything is starting to decay.
The warehouse is no exception. Once bustling and full of life, it has now is a shadow of its former self. With very few windows save those by the entrance and no interior lights left to brighten the space, the interior becomes a black hole after walking just a few feet into it. However due to a collapse in the roof, at certain times of the day, a single shaft of light shines all the way down to the ground floor creating a small illuminated circle on the floor.
It is in this small safe haven that Jake finds himself. Echos bounce off the walls of the cavernous space as he puts the finishing touches on the trap in front of him. Four months ago, a few survivors passing through had shared what they had discovered with The Daggers—a way to kill the creatures. Jake still doesn’t understand how it works, something to do with converting normal light into an artificial sunlight of sorts, but luckily there were those smarter than him around who understood and harnessed this knowledge into weapons. Since then, The Daggers had managed to take out a few of the creatures. However, they quickly learned that attacking the creatures in the large packs they usually hunted in resulted in costly casualties on both sides.
It was Phoenix’s brilliant idea to take the stealth approach instead of the head-on one. They began setting traps in the area using motion lights in the hopes of eliminating some of the creatures stalking near their hideout in the middle of the night when they were at their most active. So far, they have had promising results.
Jake is almost done setting this trap. Then he can test it and use his flashlight to get himself from this shaft of light back outside. Hopefully, he’ll then have time to sneak off to try to find more alcohol before Phoenix and Bob return for him. He hasn’t checked the houses a few blocks to the east yet and maybe—
“Jake…”
Jake’s head snaps up as his heart freezes in his chest, the trap instantly forgotten. His eyes dart around the room searching for the source of the sound. But there’s no one else there. He’s alone…he’s always alone.
Yet, just as he begins to return to his job at hand, he sees something. Squinting, he peers deeper into the heart of the building and just makes out the faint outline of a single figure within the darkness.
Instincts kicking in, Jake draws his knife from his boot and drops into a defensive stance in the center of the beam of light, waiting for the attack he knows is coming. His eyes flicker around the space, searching the darkness for signs of the rest of the swarm, yet for now all he can see is the one in front of him. But he knows that can’t be it. The creatures hunt in groups, using their numbers to overwhelm and incapacitate their victims so escape is nigh on impossible. The only few loners they had come across over the years were ones that had been injured or were too malnourished to contribute to the next hunt.
But the figure standing before Jake doesn’t seem injured or blood-crazed. It stands straight and still, completely unmoving. For several moments, nothing happens. Though still cautious, Jake begins to relax his stance a little, wondering if his eyes or mind is just playing tricks on him.
But then, a voice cuts through the silence. “I was three blocks away when I caught your scent. I don’t know how, but I immediately knew it was you.”
The knife slips from Jake’s fingers, the clatter of metal on tile echoing around the cavernous room. The voice that he had not heard outside of his dreams for the past two years punches him in the chest, nearly bringing him to his knees as tears welled up in his eyes. “B-baby?”
There is a pause before the voice continues, unemotional and flat. “I should have bolted in any other direction, put as much space between us as possible but…I couldn’t. I’m selfish enough that I had to risk seeing you one last time.”
“Oh my god,” Jake breathes. “It’s really you.”
He takes a few stumbling steps towards the figure—towards you—but you draw back further into the shadows. “No! Stop! Stay in the light.” There is a panicked edge in your tone, the first sign of emotion you have let slip in, and it is enough to make Jake listen.
As much as he longs to launch himself into your arms, he reluctantly does what you ask. He lingers just shy of the darkness, the toes of his boots resting at the point where the last of the sunbeams fade on the tiles.
“How are you here?” he asks, his voice breaking.
“You know how.”
He did. It was a fear that had nestled in the back of his mind these past two years that he didn’t dare consider. Whether that was out of the fear of falling into despair or building up false hope, he didn’t know. But he had never let himself imagine this moment and, now that it was happening, he didn’t know what to do.
Swallowing the lump forming in his throat, he says, “You said you caught my scent…Do I smell as sexy as you remember?”
A surprised snort of laughter echoes throughout the room as you are taken aback by his question. But when you speak, he hears tears in your voice, “Yeah, Jake. As sexy as always.”
Whatever cold, distant shell you had put in place when you first arrived crumbled and Jake can now hear the real you behind the words. Swallowing, he murmurs, “Please…let me see you.”
Your outline shifts in the darkness. “I-I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please, baby. For the last two years, all I could see was that last memory of you. I need this.”
“No. Seeing me like this is not going to be any better than seeing me like that. I’ve changed.”
“So have I. But I love you and I’ll still love you no matter what.”
For a moment, there is only silence. Then you whisper, “Step to the other side of the light.”
Jake immediately scrambles backward, almost falling as he stumbles over the long-forgotten trap. But he makes it to the outer rim of the circle of light and waits.
Slowly, your shape edges closer to the light. At first, Jake still can’t make out any details of the person in front of him. But when he does, his heart clenches in his chest.
There is no denying that it is the woman he loves standing before him but yet it’s not the you he remembers. Your skin has been drained of its color and now resembles that of a corpse, cold and lifeless. Sharp, pointed teeth jut out your mouth over bloodless lips and your fingers end in claw-like talons. You are still wearing the same clothes you had on the day you were attacked but they are shredded and stiff with dried blood in various colors ranging from bright red to rusty-brown. Jake wonders how much of it is yours and how much is your victims.
Any lingering doubt he had about how you are here, any sliver of hope you had escaped your fate, is shattered instantly. This isn’t a miracle. It is a nightmare, a curse.
But based on the gasp that escapes your trembling lips, you must be thinking the same thing as you get a good look at the man he has become.
“Oh, Jake…” Your hands fly up to cover your mouth as your eyes continue to roam over his body. Yet even covered, he can see your jaw trembling as you cry, “Baby, what…We promised if something ever happened to the other, we wouldn’t give up. We would keep fighting.”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Jake snaps. But then he wilts under the weight of your gaze. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he whispers, “I almost ended it—a few times. Drugs, booze, even thought I’d take my nickname literally. Made a noose and everything. But the thing that always stopped me was that promise. So, yeah, I–I’ve been a bit of a mess since you—” he gestures at your transformed self “—and I’m sorry. I tried to be strong but losing you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. We were supposed to face this hellscape together and I didn’t know how to cope without you so I let myself become someone that I hate. But now that you’re back—”
“I’m not back, Jake. That’s not why—” You shake your head, letting your hands drop. “I shouldn’t be here. This was a mistake and I never should have come. I should have just let you think I was dead. I-I have to go.”
“No! Please–” As Jake takes a few steps across the circle of light, you cower back, retreating further into the darkness.
“Stop!” There is a pained quiver in your voice. “I’m barely controlling myself as it is. If you get closer…I can’t hurt you, Jake. I can’t. But I know if you get any closer, I will and there’ll be nothing I can do to stop it.”
Jake shakes his head. “No. I don’t believe it. You would never hurt me.”
“You don’t get it. It’s not a choice, it’s an undeniable force. It’s hard enough to control myself when I’m fully satiated, but I haven’t fed in almost a week. Your blood—” You squeeze your eyes closed tightly. When you open them again, they have darkened significantly. There is still some color in them, not the pitch-black orbs Jake is used to seeing when the creatures were attacking, but the change still makes him inhale sharply. “The venom doesn’t just turn us into these…these things. It drives us to hunt, to kill. And that need is neverending.”
It breaks Jake’s heart to hear the pain in your voice and he can’t imagine what you’ve been dealing with the past two years. However, as much as it horrifies him, he also wants to know more. “Wh-what does it feel like?”
You turn to gaze into the darkness surrounding you. “It’s like acid in my veins, a constant burning fire in my gut that only grows stronger if it’s not satisfied. Blood’s the only thing that soothes the pain for even a few hours, but it’s never enough. I’ve tried to stop myself, I have, but each time I drink it gets hard to fight. And with every life I take, I feel a little more of myself slip away. I’m not the woman you loved anymore, Jake. I’m just a monster with her face.”
Jake shakes his head with a firm set in his jaw. “No. I don't believe that. It's still you. Why else would you have looked for me? The woman I love is still here and she needed to see me just as much as I needed to see her.”
“Jake–”
“And I don’t care what you think.” Without hesitation, Jake crosses the remainder of his little haven of sunlight and steps forward to join you in the inky darkness. You cower back again but he takes another step to maintain the same distance between you. “You're not going to hurt me. I know that. Because you're so strong and brave and you can fight this–”
“It’s not that simple—”
“Yes, it is.”
“Jake, stop—”
“No. Not until you believe that—”
“I've killed Daggers.”
Your admission hangs like a dense fog between you. Obviously, Jake had realized what being turned into a creature meant for your feeding habits, but he had been trying not to focus on that. However, now faced with the truth, Jake suddenly connects a few horrifying dots in his head.
He swallows before asking, “Coyote?”
Last year, he had gotten there just a moment too late. There was nothing he could do but watch as what was left of his best friend was ripped apart by a mass of creatures. But then, just for a second before Fanboy grabbed his arm and pulled him away, he caught a flash of one of the creatures and he could have sworn…
Your eyes widen, clearly not expecting him to know that, but you nod slightly. Then, in a small voice, say, “And Rooster.”
“Roo….Rooster?” The truth about Coyote had been painful, yet regardless of who killed him, Jake had come to terms with his best friend’s death months ago. But Rooster…
He had left the group a few weeks ago after hearing a rumor of someone sounding suspiciously similar to his godfather leading another group out in the desert. They all knew it was dangerous but if anyone could make it, it would have been Rooster. Yet if what you said was true…
“I never wanted you to find out.” Tears begin to stream down your cheeks, thick, black goo that leaves streaks in their wake. “I tried to stop myself but I couldn't. Coyote was already being attacked when I found him and the blood…this thing took over. And the worst part was he…he recognized me just before I tore his throat out. There was this mix of elation I was ‘alive’ and horror at what I had become. I still see it when I close my eyes. With Rooster it was different. I was alone when I found him. We’ve been starving since you found a way to destroy us and I needed blood so badly. He was dead before he even knew I was there.”
This newest revelation is the last straw for Jake. A man can only process so much trauma at once before he reaches his breaking point. Falling to his knees, he hangs his head, tears dripping off his face onto the dusty tile beneath him as his shoulders shake with stifled sobs.
“Jake…I…” Your voice is brimming with tears as Jake sees your feet take one hesitant step closer to him. But then, you stop.
For a moment, there is only the sound of his soft cries echoing through the empty space. However, when you finally speak again, your voice has more of the defiance and strength he loves most about you. “You don’t understand what it’s like. When I slip into a frenzy, nothing in this world exists except for blood. Faces…names…past relationships…none of it means anything at that moment. All that’s left is the pure animalistic need to feed. It’s only after I’ve been sated that I come back, that I can remember what happened or what I did. Standing over what’s left of a person, realizing I’m to blame, knowing I’ve murdered them or I’ve forced them to become a monster just like me. I couldn’t stop myself from killing Coyote and Rooster, but I made sure neither of them could turn. They may not have deserved their deaths, but more than that, they didn’t deserve this afterlife. It was the least I could do for them. And I’m sorry it wasn’t more.”
You fall silent again, but Jake just continues to cry with no acknowledgment of what you said. After a moment of this, you plead, “Jake, talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking. If you want me to go—”
“Please…” Jake breathes, the weight of the past two years pressing down on him. “Please let me hold you.”
“W-what?” Based on the utter shock in your voice, that is not what you were expecting him to say.
It takes everything in him, but Jake lifts his eyes so they meet yours. “Baby, I need you in my arms again. To feel you, touch you, prove this is real. I have dreamed about you every night for two years. Horrible, bloody nightmares that have destroyed my life. I need you to chase those nightmares away.”
“Jake, have you not heard a word I’ve said? I’ve killed our friends and I’ll kill you too. Or worse, I’ll turn you.”
“I want you to,” he whispers.
“Jake!” Normally when discussions became this heated between you and you resorted to that sharp tone, your chest would be heaving as you became worked up. Yet this time, your heart isn’t beating and your lungs aren’t huffing air so it remains deathly still. “I can’t do that to you. I won’t condemn you to this life.”
“Please…” Jake sobs loudly, too emotionally and mentally drained to get to his feet and walk to you. “I can’t live without you anymore. I need us to be together, whatever that looks like.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“You’ve made it pretty clear. But I’m willing to bear the pain, the…the consequences of this choice if it means I can be with you. So, please, don’t make me spend one more second without you. Either kill me or turn me, but I can’t do this anymore.”
You stare at him for a long time, your darkened eyes not giving any hint as to what you are thinking. Then, slowly, you nod. “I don’t want to kill you or turn you, but I need you too. I think…I think I always knew when I came here that this is how it would go and I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong enough to stay away.”
“I’m so glad you didn’t.” Jake opens his arms, still kneeling on the floor. “Come here, baby.”
With stilted, hesitant steps, you begin to walk towards him. You balk a little as you get closer, fighting against the instinct to avoid the sunlight, but Jake is far enough in the shadows that you can reach him without crossing into the light. Slowly, you lower yourself to your knees in front of him and reach out.
Jake can’t wait any longer. He grabs your hand and pulls you into his chest, squeezing you as tightly as he possibly can. Your skin is icy beneath his touch, but he doesn’t care. He’s holding you in his arms again and nothing else in the world matters.
However, you apparently don’t share the same outlook. Your entire body goes rigid beneath him, every muscle tensing as he draws you in. He can feel you begin to tremble as an animalistic growl rumbles in your chest.
“Ja—I can’t—Let me go. Don’t wanna hurt—” You manage to choke the words out through a clamped-shut jaw. As your eyes turn completely black, your teeth begin to grow longer until they resemble true fangs. Several poke through your lips as you press your mouth firmly closed. You are still trying to save him despite everything.
Squeezing you tighter, Jake mutters, “No. It’s okay, baby. I want this. Just let go.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, black tears falling on his chest. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”
And you sink your fangs into his neck.
Living up to your promise, there is only a small sting as your teeth break his skin. However, in seconds, your venom enters his bloodstream and Jake tries to jerk away from the searing pain. However, your clawed hand clamps firmly on his shoulder, forcing him to remain in place. The venom spreads throughout his system until every cell in his body is screaming out in agony. He wants to black out but his body won’t let him. The change is already occurring and he is being forced to be conscious for every last second of his human life.
As you drink, small sounds begin slipping out between your lips, reverberating against Jake’s skin. Soft moans and gasps that have Jake flashing back to all those times you were beneath him as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. And for just a second, he can bear the pain knowing he is giving you some semblance of pleasure.
However as a vice of white-hot agony squeezes around his lungs and heart, Jake begins to jerk in your grasp as he begins to suffocate. Feeling his distress, you slide your teeth out of his neck and press your blood-soaked lips to the wound. Running your hand through his hair, you coo, “It’s okay, baby. It’s almost over now. I can already taste the change beginning in your blood. But this next part is the worst. Fighting it just makes it harder. Try to relax and let it happen. And I’m right here, my love, forever.” Then you sink your teeth back into his neck.
The choking suffocating feeling only intensifies, but against every self-preservation instinct in Jake’s body, he tries to listen to your advice and just gives in. Closing his eyes, he begins to slip into a sort of meditative state. While the pain or pressure doesn’t lessen, the panic and tension ease slightly. And even once he feels his heart take its last beat and his lungs go still, he tries to remain in this headspace until you are finished.
He isn’t sure how long he is kneeling there before—
“No…”
Jake picks up the soft sound as it is breathed across the empty warehouse, his ears already tuning into sounds humans shouldn’t be able to hear. His eyes flutter open and just over your shoulder, he can see Bob and Phoenix bathed in sunlight standing at the entrance to the building. Bob has tears in his eyes, his lips whispering your name in horror as he watches the growing gory mess you are making of Jake’s neck. He glances back and forth between Jake and Phoenix, silently pleading with her to find a way to fix this.
But Phoenix just stares at the pair of reunited lovers, her jaw set tightly. And Jake knows she understands. Phoenix always understands.
Jake is weak from blood loss and pain, but he manages the slightest of nods. Lifting two fingers to her forehead, Phoenix gives Jake a small salute in return.
Then she raises her flashlight.
As the beam of light strikes your shoulder, your mouth instantly disappears from Jake’s throat with an agonized hiss as you try to flee from the pain. But using what strength he has left, Jake holds you in place.
The betrayal on your face as you turn to look at him almost outweighs the pain. Jake knows you must think this was a trick, that he must have been stalling you all along just for this moment. Yet, he had meant every word he said.
Smiling as every cell in his body begins to burn differently from before, he whispers, “Together.” And he holds up his hand which is cracking and disintegrating in the light just like yours.
Though still pained, your face softens as you realize what he is doing. Transformation or death, those had been his choices. However, it turns out it wasn’t an “or” but an “and”.
Reaching out, you link your fingers with his, your skin flaky and fragile in his grasp. You snuggle your head against the unbitten crook of his neck, whimpering slightly as the light does its job, and you whisper back, “Together.”
Jake wraps his other arm around you and holds you close, silently vowing to never let go again.
The last thing he sees before his world slips away is the strangely beautiful swirl of particles of your two disintegrating bodies intermingling in the beam of sunlight.
Taglist: @ohtobeleah, @green-socks, @lorecraft, @heart-0n-fire, @mayhem24-7forever,
@blue-aconite, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite,
@straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped,
@yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @callsign-phoenix, @shanimallina87,
@forever-sleepy-sloth, @notroosterbradshaw, @dezthegeek, @blessupblessup, @cherrycola27,
@phoenix1389, @nicangelinee, @smells-like-perfect-senses, @boringusername3, @petlaufeyson,
@cycbaby, @footprintsinthesxnd, @fantasticcopeaglepasta, @writercole, @onebigfangirlworld,
@wkndwlff, @ravenmoore14, @clancycucumber230, @slightly-psycho-multifan, @kmc1989,
@deppresseddyslexic, @horneybeach1, @mandylove1000, @aczhang777, @lovelyy-moonlight
@winterassassin1804, @seresinhangmanjake, @seitmai
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maybe it's because I'm in the "I'm so obsessed and hyperfocused on my little guys I will make any song seem like it's about them even if it couldn't be any father from actually relating to them at all" stage of my Theon and Asha hyperfixation but like...
I feel like 'I bet on losing dogs' by Mitski is about them.
it's about Asha and her relationship with Theon.
he's her baby brother. the baby brother who looked up at her smiled when she had gone in his room, intent on strangling him to stop his cries. he's her losing dog. the dog she keeps fighting for when no one else will. she never gives up on him, not truly, even when he is so clearly doomed, because she loves him, she won't give up on him.
and Theon is, in so many senses, a dog. he's been passed around from owner to owner, home to home, trained and beaten and domesticated, made to behave how his owner at the time sees fit. he's a good dog, a good beaten dog.
and now, in a way, he's Asha's dog. she doesn't want him to be her dog, she wants him to be her brother, and Theon's trying, he really is trying, she knows he's trying, but part of him will always be doomed to be a dog waiting to be hit, waiting for a command, waiting to be trained.
he's her losing dog, she knows it, knows he's doomed, deep down, there's little hope, he'll die a damned dog, but fuck it she doesn't care, he's her blood, her baby, he will be by her side no matter what. she'll always go back for him, she'll always fight for him, she'll always tell him to stay, she'll always give him a chance, she'll always try.
~~~~
#(this post is based on the show. I'm half way through season 6)#I don't even know if I'm saying anything coherently but I tried#they make me feel insane. feral. ill. all of the above.#I think- scratch that. I *know* asha is so much softer for theon than she lets on and I don't know how more people don't see that#like yes. she wasn't perfect when it came to handling theon#but like... she was doing the best she knew how to do with the way she was brought up#I mean. the ironborn have a very tough it out or die mentality. they don't do “mental health” (I mean... look at euron. does it look-#like they do mindfulness and processing trauma?)#she only knew how to tough love theon. that was it. she wanted him to get better but didn't know how to actually make it happen#but that doesn't change the fact that she loved him with her whole being. that she hated seeing him in the state he was. that she didn't-#want to make it all better like any big sister would.#because she did! she loved him! he was her baby and he was hurting and she didn't know how to fix it!#she's brash cause thats all she knows. she's tough on him cause what else could she do? she had to have been scared and worried about him.#I think part of her brashness was her trying to cover up just how worried and conflicted and confused she was when it came to his situation#so this post caters to what I think the soft innards of asha greyjoy would be like. she loves her baby brother very much.#I mean. the way she looks at him when she tells him the story of him smiling at her or when she kisses his forehead when he agrees to be-#*theon* again. for her. the love in her eyes is undeniable.#to asha and her losing dog- I mean brother#they're gonna be the death of me#asha greyjoy#theon greyjoy#yara greyjoy#got#game of thrones#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#the second row of images is from the scene where asha (she will never be yara to me. sorry got. asha is the superior name) is telling-#theon the story about him being a terrible baby and how he smiled at her.
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I think I accidentally made Wriothesley AuDHD. fuck
#ingital#did you know there's a bit in ingital i cut out where he tells Neuvillette they have to go get their kids tested. it's cut out of the carol#and vautrin scene. because I wanted to recontextualise carole's canon story as like about her social ostracisation because she's#a weird little girl with a very strong sense of justice (autistic like her dad lol). and I wanted it to just be a family moment where#wriothesley just very casually suggests getting their kids tested to see if they need additional support. and its just because i wanted it#to be seen as a very normal. even slightly positive moment (carole you're just like your papa!). because . you dont often see an autism#diagnosis as a Normal thing. much less a silly fun thing. and Ingital is silly fun the fic#the thing is. I specifically sat down and told myself. I'm gonna write a neurotypical man because not every single guy in my fic has to be#neurodivergent. when I write wriothesley it's usually more about trauma cptsd and high functioning depression anyway.#but I am autistic. even my trauma/depression/mentally ill experience is viewed through autistic lens. which is why im like#I should learn how to write a neurotypical man right. this is so dire. because what if i CANT. GOD#severe trauma does things to your neurotype anyway so he's Not Neurotypical but GODDDDDDDDDDD I made the fucking. disorganised#basement dwelling tech nerd gag in the latest chapter. and I FORGOT THAT THAT'S TIPPING INTO AUDHD TROPES/STEREOTYPES.#I know this had potential to go into audhd territory from Day 1 when I decided he fucking dwells on stack exchange#but i told myself. well. just because he's a nerd and highly intelligent doesn't mean he's audhd. right. because if he still#has relatively normal sensory experiences (outside of ptsd/other mental illness symptoms) and is still within normal range of organisation#then he's not audhd. because the difference between audhd disorganisation/dysregulation and similar symptoms in depression/other illnesses#IS THAT HE'S STILL GONNA BE DISORGANISED WHEN HE'S NOT DEPRESSED!!!!!!! And he's not depressed in his little basement enclosure.#that . level of happy chaos. is exactly how he naturally operates when he's allowed to do what he wants. I fucking made him audhd AGAIN#and he even has his own extremely strange way of naming files.
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Shoutout to my therapist for now ending sessions with "We out here sinning! We out here suffering!" as a weirdly hopeful affirmation for me
#'We walk by faith and not by sight' is OUT#'We out here sinning and suffering' is IN#His whole thing is suffering sucks bootyass so we gotta learn how to tolerate it#You can express how much suffering sucks bootyass#and eventually you feel better. the sucking ass eventually runs out#you just gotta tolerate it in the least dangerous way you can#ideally it's have a cry and take care of yourself and rest up and so on and so forth#if it's self harm and drugs then so be it cause harm reduction#you probably aren't gonna focus on not smoking cigarettes if you're homeless and hungry#cause cigarettes make you feel less hungry and agitated#so once you get housing then we can worry about the smoking#you're probably not gonna stop self harming while in an abusive household so let's work on tolerating that while finding a way to get out#Once youre out and safe we can focus on moving from self harm to self care#ya know?#he says it's a tool. it's not the most handy tool but it is A Tool in your toolbox#you wanna add tools to your toolbox so you have more options. having no tools at all is the worst outcome#a broken hammer is better than no hammer when you need to deal with a nail right?#anyways that's it I just love my therapist I was homeless for like 2 months but I'm housed now so it's all good#he constantly reminds me of this concept but even more so until I got my temporary dorm#anyways again fuck Jesus I just moved into this dorm and I already might have to evacuate for Milton#you'll make my uncle a prophet but can't save my new mini fridge from a flood for me? fuck off dude#ex christian#religious trauma
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sorry i just. need to rant for a second
#cause dude the whole joost situation is SO fucking upsetting#he's mentioned over and over again how overwhelming this whole overnight success thing has been for him and to respect his boundaries#and instead of yk respecting his wishes “fans” go and make things worse by constantly overstepping and being creepy and weird like hello???#like why can't we all just be normal and take a step back and enjoy things#these people are gonna end up driving him off the internet and i wouldn't blame him one bit#and the worst part is the people who should get the memo obviously don't (or refuse to) bc this isn't an isolated instance#like its been going on for a while now#idk man i just think about how hard it must be for him rn#one of the things that turned me into a joost fan (besides his music) was his personality#like i obviously dont know him on a personal basis#but from the little bits ive seen he comes across as a really genuine and sweet and kind dude#super thoughtful as well. like i just love the way he thinks and his take on things#like i remember watching his eurovision interviews and just thinking oh man this dude's a ray of sunshine LMFAO#also the literal definition of resilience like dude's been through so much stuff and hes always managed to come out on top despite of it#and thats something i really admire about him too. like the way he put it as not letting your traumas be just that#but also something that can drive you forward#but yeah dude's had more than enough like he deserves to be happy and have some peace and ppl keep ruining it for him and it makes me upset#like i actually slept like shit last night and woke up feeling terrible and i wonder if what went down yesterday w the whole live thing#has anything to do with it lmfao#and you may be like ok well youre taking it too personally and letting it affect you#and yeah maybe youre right LOL but i cant help it i care about the guy and i want him to be okay#he seems to have a really good support system though so i hope things blow over soon and he can finally have some peace#anyway. rant over! 💋#raquel speaks
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just two partners relaxing after a mission <3
#resident evil#ashley graham#manuela hidalgo#ashuela#re4#the darkside chronicles#okay i’m going to infodump about the fanfic/au of them i’ve got in my head so people understand#this is set in the og 4 timeline btw.. i had agent!ashley first capcom 💥💥#anyways after re4 Ashley decides that she wants to become an agent#because she wants to feel like leon’s equal (she really admires him and looks up to him and has a complex about it basically but it’s not#weird like it is in canon vs ashley just being very traumatized and developing a personality disorder bc of her trauma lmao)#other than that I think she doesn’t ever want to feel like she’s helpless again and she doesn’t want other people to feel that way either#she has good intentions but is still in denial about how corrupt the government is (but she is very much starting to learn bc her father is#a total POS and she’s gonna realize how little he actually cares about her pretty quickly)#re4r made her a little too patriotic for me but that’s beside the point#Manuela is also an agent who was training around the same time as Ashley but her role is much different due to her BOW status#she’s also been in american gov custody since she was 15 and she does Not like them#I’m still going back and forth with how I write Manuela but she knows how expendable she is and knows they only keep her so she doesn’t get#traded off in the BOW black market and become of use to someone dangerous to the gov#there is a lot more about the progression of their relationship and their dynamic as a partner team but i’ll save it for the fic#unrelated to the plot AS FOR THEIR DESIGNS. i realized too little too late how DMC looking ashley is 😭 but it’s fine#I based her design off of her 3.5 design and my own personal spins#manuela’s outfit is much less elaborate because . she doesn’t want it to. catch on fire . LMAO.#I want to give her more outfits for Off the job scenes and really elaborate on the sense of style she develops when she’s on her own#also LET HER HAVE BURN SCARS?? I know that because she’s a BOW she would probably. heal much faster and her body would regenerate#but that’s lame so she gets to have at least Some scarring. capcom writing be damned#oh also this isn’t relevant to their overall stories either but they are both so autistic .. manuela listens to music to decompress#and calm down after stressful missions and she also hums/sings as a stim okay thank you that’s all
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MORE RAMBLING ABOUT SHIPPY DYNAMICS (With Baggs, Red, and Sonia)
Baggs loves his pets very much, but like any pet owner would know, there are times where pets do things that frustrate the fuck out of you.
For people with traditional pets, it's simple things like your cat scratching on things they're not supposed to, or getting in front of whatever you have in front of you to get your attention.
Like your dog, eating things out of the trash or drinking from the toilet, or tearing up yet another pillow.
For Baggs, it's being 52 hrs into not just a single project, but many. Being so close to finishing at least seven of them, and making enormous progress on twenty. Only for his beloved Red to come on in, and ask him if he's eaten, drank anything, stepped away from the computer at all, if he's actually seen the sun in the past week.
And upon a lack of answer given his sleep-deprived state, attempting to pick him up and carry him away from his work.
Red is stubborn, and more often than not, he caves to Red's doting. But when Red resists, he has to order Red to step back and let him finish.
And Red has learned ways around this. Red alone, he can deal with. Red calling in Sonia for backup? That's a problem. Even when Baggs has made measures to keep Red from snitching on him, Red has worked around every single one. And the inevitable follows, with his darling pet Sonia coming in, with a furrowed brow and a pout. Controlling Red when he's being stubborn is easy. Controlling Sonia on the other hand? Is incredibly difficult. He'd only ever see the sheen of Determination that is natural to every human SOUL on hers, whenever it comes to the wellbeing of another. She is absolutely persistant on doing what she can to help, which is wonderful when it works in his favor. But when she believes that his work can be left for later (and even saves it for him, how considerate.) and that he is going to take a break and give his mind rest? Sonia would make a mule change it's path, if it was headed for a cliff. Her stubbornness and determination to help not only pushes his magic aside, but retaliates with the help of that thing within her own mind. Some manner of entity named Shoggoth, which was a spiritual beast known as an Umbra.
He still needed to study that thing thoroughly. It was able to bind him to obedience, while allowing his mind to remain his own. A fascinating and frightening concept. But Baggs had comfort in knowing such power is in the hands of a woman who cries over even squished bugs. She's no threat to him.
However her interference into his work is extremely annoying, like a feline companion flopping onto your laptop to interrupt.
Still, he goes along with it, and groans out his protests as she chides at him in tones that almost sound motherly. Feeling her scoop him up and hold her close to her (extremely warm, soft, and cuddly) body. As she carries him off with Red in tow, while Red cackles out in good-spirited ribbing at Baggs. Baggs feeling just how relieved Red was that Sonia got him to stop his work. And Baggs, upon getting some time away from it, can't help but to feel thankful that she pulled him away from it to be in her and Red's company.
#oxyramblesalot#megalosomnia#underfell#red underfell#dr baggs#baggs#baggs megalosomnia#depths in despair multiverse#sonia slate#Red will LITERALLY CALL Sonia like#“Ey Angel? Baggs ain't takin' a break again.”#And Sonia's like#“Wait what??? AGAIN??? I'll be over as SOON as I can. Promise!”#And then Baggs is officially getting carted off for cuddle time whether he likes it or not.#Sitting on a couch watching movies with drinks and pizza pockets#Snuggled between his two loving pets#They're gonna SHOW THIS MAN HOW MUCH HE IS LOVED#The three of them have serious trauma and problems#but they come through and comfort whichever one of their trio is feeling down.#I love these poly dorksssss#Red gets hassled with the lovesandwiching#So does Sonia#Because ALL THREE OF THEM HAVE PROBLEMS WITH SELF CARE#But all three of them have a strong desire to protect and love on the others.#They're so cute ajklfhdklsjhgfklsdah
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See thats the thing. Yes it will make him absolutely miserable to end the bloodline. But thats the thing. He can't do otherwise. The more he fails to get a wife (and to examine why), the more he interiorizes that it must come from an inherent fault of his and the worse his attempts get. Thats also why I dont think he would "adopt" either, his problem is that he can't really move on. Jin ling is different, because he's his sisters son, not his. And hes channeled all his energy into him, which is crazy politically speaking since jin ling can never be a jiang heir. I think part of him is terrified that he would do to his actual son what his father did to him (bc he will always love jin ling more on the basis of him being jiang yanlis son, the same way jiang fengmians affection for wei wuxian was a continuation of his love for cangse sanren). I think its really complex but honestly I'm compelled by the increased misery as stated above :)
i get you friend, but i really think you're giving him more credit than it's due 😭 my man has never done a bit of self-analysis in his life and i don't think failing to get a wife will get him to start
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#like. he's waaaay too terrified of failing his dad's legacy to let his bloodline die#and the whole thing abt jc is how he ends up falling back into the toxic cycle :( the tragedy of his arc to me#is exactly watching how he turns into his mother despite how much he didnt want to!#he's that guy we all know irl who refuses to analyze himself and will get married and have kids and likely make all the same mistakes#because that's the cycle of generation trauma... and jc is one of the characters in which that is the most clear#but again! i dont think he'd be unhappy with that ending#he doesnt even WANT a wife. a political unpassionate marriage works perfectly well#and if the wife plays her cards right and doesnt rly care for his affection either theyre golden#and his children dont have to be miserable either. yes he fell back into the cycle and we see how much he pushed JL#but he's def not AS bad as his mom. and after the canon events he's likely to chill out#but any jc ending that relies on him doing any sort of self-analysis of his own flaws and mistakes isn't gonna happen i'm sorry dkjvhdh#modao#lace speaks
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love (hate) when im Thinking about my childhhod and im like "yeah it was pretty normal and good ithink" and then i fuckingg Rember
#like oh that one wasnt very good !#personal#<- ish#<- but boy are these tags about to be#this is about the time i didnt respond to my dad's text when i was in the middle of a highschool tour with my sibling#(<- they came with cause why the hell not)#and on the drive back home he went on this rant about how we dont know what money's worth (completely unrelated !)#and he literally told us To Our Faces that it wouldve been better if we werent born ! like sir whose fault is that one !!#and theres definitely more but for once im thankful for my head blocking shit out of my memories#and how hed yell at me for making Basic Fucking MIstakes (once when i was EIGHT i spilt water down the stairs and#he yelled at me for .i forgot how long but too fukcing long#and made me get him to bring my cups downstairs for a month after and then he forgot and yelled at me AGAIN#for asking him to bring my cup down AFTER TELLING ME I HAD TO#and so so much more like . the yelling got so bad that when i twisted my ankle#(only real ones remember)#i was scared of telling him cause i KNEW he'd be like 'do you have any clue how much the doctor's gonna cost blah blah'#and i just . didnt tell him#we used to have money issues and he'd always make me feel like shit for asking for anything that costed money ever#so i just didnt tell him when i was sick or injured or when i needed something cause he would get mad at ME like . hello#AnyWay ! so yeah thats the rundown of some of my severe trauma that still affects me to this day
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Was having so much fun replaying p3p that I forgot that this game is bad lol
#the klock keeps ticking#i gotta get my ranting gear on its happening again#just got to the part where its revealed that shadow experiments happened at the school 10 years prior#and yeah its as badly written as I remember lol#like first off it really is just kinda like ‘ah yes the kirijo group experimented on kids and created the dark hour and we’re being#recruited to clean up their mess’ and the only one who seems to care is yukari but then like#oooh she cant be mad after all cuz her dad was in on it or whatever#and my favorite fucking guy Ikutski is there with a smile like ah yes yes the fucked up shit ah well anyways lets keep fighting lol#and its like briefly mentioned so fucking casually that mitsurus family involved her in this shit and forced her to awaken to a persona#when she was like 8 and you know. now she has to act as a tool to clean up their mess#and it’s like hold up now. why arent we talking about this aaaaaaa just gonna drop that bomb and leave#my favorite fucking part though is like afterwards all the little scenes we get of the characters processing this information#none really seeming to care all that much about the fucked up part theyre just like ‘damn the dark hour is gonna end’#and we get some of that iconic p3 dialogue where characters just look into the camera and explain their trauma before walking away#akihiko just goes up to shinji to be like ‘hey lol remember that we’re both orphans and thats how we know each other and also my sister#anyway Keep Looking Forward™️ bye’ and then fuuka looks into the camera like#‘yes btw my parents have an inferiority complex and thats why they abuse me which is why i dont mind being manipulated’#like she just. says that its so funny this game was written by a toaster#its so frustrating cuz the conflict could be so interesting but they handle it soooo boring and ignore all the parts that shouldnt be#oh mitsuru dont worry ill write you a better game to be in#come to the fat lesbian party where we kill the kirijo group with hammers
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Okay, that "the March Hare and Dormouse are right there" post was a little condescending, but like I'm sorry but people that can't interact with a media without shipping something are annoying as fuck.
#amusing musings#like i respect all your ships with alice (except for That One) but it cannot be stressed enough how much i dont Get them#like youre really gonna play a game about a girl that suffers from trauma and has to defeat her inner demons#and be like 'i just need to put her in romantic scenarios'#again no disrespect but like its nice to have a female character that's not defined by romantic relations so
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Me when my life is trauma and mental illness all the way down but I am determined to make something good of it in the end
#I’m in such a weird spot right now because I can barely remember anything positive that’s ever happened in my life#every time I look back on any year I just see all the pain. and there has been lots of pain#and I know logically there was joy or happiness or something positive or I would’ve killed myself a long time ago#but I can’t remember it at all and my brain is trying to convince me I should kill myself now so I can escape the pain#if my life is just going to continue being pain#I know it’s not true. there’s been joy in my life before and there will be again but everything just hurts so bad#I don’t know how long I can keep going for#but even if I quit my job or drop out of school I’ll have to stay with my parents and that makes me want to kill myself more#in fact maybe that’s what’s making me so suicidal. staying with them now is not triggering my hypervigilance but it is making me flashback#to every trauma I’ve ever had much more often than usual#I’m not myself right now and I need to remember that there is a me to get back to#maybe I’ll go out tonight and remember I’m not destined be stuck in my parent’s house for the rest of my life#anne speaks#like. I realise that yeah I’ve had a great deal of pain in my life (I don’t mean to be navel gazing and also I have been super privileged in#a lot of ways but also ten mental illness and child abuse and ptsd three times over is a little excessive I think)#but there was joy before and there will be joy again! even if I’m exhausted I’m gonna hold on like I always have and one day I’ll be#glad I did#it sounds and feels trite but it’s happened before and it won’t be trite when it’s true#tw suicidality#tw suicide mention
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Oxytocin low. Send hugs.
#tiger’s roar#it has…been overcast for days. with no snow to maximize light output#and since it’s been so warm the trees think it’s fucking SPRING…not likely gonna get The Mirror Effect + Seasonal Coziness any time soon#and it’s when it looks like a so called Tender Tennessee Christmas outside…is when I actually get the winter SADs#because tennessee in winter is nothing but bizarre tempts and overcast browns. it’s miserable#also…I really only get People Hugs from a ‘what even are we really’ ‘s mom#like…once every two weeks. there’s only so much pets being snuggly and burrowing my face into a jumbo squishmellow can do to help with this#and…Someone told on me to 3rd Party. either someone broke confidence who was told to keep it#OR… ‘what even ARE we?!’ and their sibling (and possibly their parents) all played detective. and spoke to 3rd Party#I…would rather believe the second. vs betrayed Yet Again#because of the timing and because…they’re really the only ones who have Visibly been allowed to see just how Awful this was for me and…#still trying to put on a brave face. redraw boundaries. protect everyone#but I still feel so so fragile. and I need them HERE. and it feels so so selfish to want that#and doing my best to Brave Face is…walking on a fractured leg. but what else am I supposed to do#and…I feel so embarassed to basically expose just how damaged my attachment is#and that using friendships and longing for friendships and prioritizing platonic over romantic is…apparently not normal.#prolly a trauma response actually. and I cannot force people to be friends. because to me friends are surrogate family. literally#and that is…too intense. probably.#(…and did I mention that needing this just feels…selfish?)
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