#but the paranoia persists for days afterward | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yanderart · 4 years ago

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Once you found Shouto on the Anti-Purge forums, it felt so wonderful to be understood. So comforting to finally have someone you could rely on...

So, when you got a letter notifying you of your selection for the Annual Purge later on, of course you went to seek his help.

Should’ve known better than to trust strangers online, though.

My fic/portrait convo for the Yandere Purge Collab, from the Lovesick Discord. And please check the rest of the m. list for other amazing works set in the same AU!

Under the cut is the actual fic (Todoroki x Reader, nsfw, dark themes, 10k), as well as the respective TWs. Hope y'all enjoy 🥀

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Tws: Usual yandere ones (stalking, manipulation, delusion). Dub-con/Non-con. Non-consensual Drug Use, aka Aphrodisiacs. Death threats and sexism (from randoms on the forum, not Todo).

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You couldn’t think straight —hadn’t been able to since waking up again. All you could recognize amidst the fog currently obscuring your thoughts was the longing, prolonged, and tangible in its hold over your being.

You felt hot all over, the flames licking at your skin burning brightly as you squirmed from your place, eagerly attempting to get closer to the cold reprieve emanating from the man that held you.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Y/N." One of his hands was steering you on his lap, the other one gently massaging your shoulders in a comforting motion. “I can only help you if you do."

If your judgment had not been overcast by the desire pushing away your self-awareness, then perhaps you could’ve heard the faint hint of amusement in his voice. Perhaps you would’ve thought to look up and finally encounter the content shine of his heterochromatic eyes.

“I feel…" speaking was laborious, your tongue impossibly weighty and your mind swirling with thoughts that escaped any semblance of coherence. “I feel hot all over. It hurts.”

The hand positioned around your waist went to search for one of your clenched ones, easily engulfing it in his grip as he nudged the side of your face with his chin rather tenderly. A gentle encouragement for you to stay attentive, anchoring you to the moment despite your dazed mindset.

“Show me then,” his low timbre tickled your skin, sending another wave of excruciating heat to wreak havoc inside your body, “Let me know where it hurts.”

With a stuttering sigh, you proceeded to press both of your hands to your lower stomach, gulping audibly before bringing them further down. Dancing just short of your underwear while your eyelids fluttered shut.

You knew your actions were out of character deep down. Even recognized the shadow of wrongness that distorted the current scene. You weren't supposed to do such things, weren't supposed to feel like that…

But the reality was that you were so excruciatingly warm by that point, and his palm felt so deliciously cold.

When you heard the dreadful siren going off in the distance, the instantly recognizable sound of the Purge starting at last, you were already too far gone to think of anything else but the fingers brushing against the thin cotton of your panties, so close to the evidence of your need soaking through them.

Your parents had told you not to trust strangers online once upon a time. You should’ve really taken their advice more to heart.

。。。。。

But first, perhaps a little tracing of your steps is in order —some necessary context to fully understand the extension of your plight.

You see, earlier that day you had woken up full of a peculiar mix of drive and determination. It was indeed Purge Day, the single day of the year you had grown to fear the most ever since childhood, and yet for once you found yourself oddly relaxed, filled to the brim with resolve instead of your usual nerves.

Which was already an unexpected turn of events, considering you had just gotten a letter notifying you of your selection as one of the accursed Darlings of the Night.

A gentle reminder that, if caught, your life would stop belonging to yourself for an entire dreadful year.

Because a Yandere had their sight on you now, or so the notice had informed you in impeccable typography. Anxious fingertips memorized the slight raise of inked words, inspecting every single detail the letter carried.

You had imagined a monster ready to pounce just outside your door then, fitting enough to be the carrier of your bad news. A preternaturally grotesque being, built from all the Yandere themed horror stories you had heard throughout the years.

And yet there you were, feeling safer in that instant than you had in years; Because this time you had a plan. He made sure to give you one you could easily follow.

Just like he later made sure to welcome you in with a kind smile and awfully persistent hospitality.

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

You should've known better than to accept.

。。。。。

In the present, fingers were now dipping under the elastic of your panties, ghosting across feverish skin and encouraging your whimpers to grow louder.

"Is this what you want, then?" The man's breath tickled one of your ears, rough digits gathering your slickness with practiced ease. And he sounded genuinely concerned too, as if your discomfort was not a consequence of his own machinations. "Because I wanna ease your pain, baby. Give you what you truly need."

He barely even touched you yet you were already struggling not to crumble, the desire governing your mind mixing with the new sensations to create a new delirious kind of torment.

Continuing to tease you, the man was relentless in his torture, barely even brushing over your neediest spots. A gentle press of his palm to stimulate you for a moment before pulling back, much to your shameful frustration; Better than nothing, but not close enough.

In his own way, though, he was urging you to speak up. Expecting you to demand what you truly wanted.

Yet as a retort, all you could come up with was gasping out his name, dripping from your lips like honeyed prayers as your hips fought to buck up against his hand.

A sound you afterward repeated a hundred times over. Chanted until its melody became engraved on your tongue and the man was finally caving in, sliding his fingers inside with a smirk.

He had known you'd end up caving, had planned for it for months now, and yet nothing had prepared him for the actual view.

。。。。。

Shou, actually, had been his username when you first met him. Once upon a time recited with a genuine smile and an eagerness to please, such a far cry from the anguished whines it would later lead up to.

You started frequenting the forum he inhabited a few months back. A place which happened to be a hidden corner of the internet for people who did not just stumble upon it, but actually sought it out. A part of the web where its occupants challenged societal norms and, against what society had tried to condition you all into thinking, chose to voice their taboo Anti-Purge sentiments instead.

Sentiments perhaps born either due to the inherent discriminatory nature of the holiday (why was it that Yanderes were accommodated for, while Darlings barely got a warning before they were made prey?), a need for contrarianism (when opposing open kidnappings, assault and other debauchery became an act of rebellion), or just a tenuous moral high ground which made it unbearable to stomach. Whatever the reason, it was your first time encountering such a density of like-minded peers.

Despite attempting to commit yourself to being a lurker, deciding to never post or reply to others, your days had still quickly become consumed by the need to read each and every topic. You were simply fascinated with this new dark corner of the web.

That was, of course, until the aforementioned Shou became the main focus of your attention, a dash of intriguing brightness to break the monotony of your existence.

And like moths rushing to the flame, your curiosity would be your undoing.

There was something about him that pulled you in (along with many others from the community, which tended to flock on his posts whenever he grazed the forums). His username was clearly just a nickname instead of a carefully crafted pseudonym; profile picture just an image of the back of what you all assumed to be his hair, dual-toned strands catching the light in a hypnotic way.

Truly, his disregard for anonymity within those parts was a bigger statement than you were expecting, almost as commendable as it was dumbfounding. There was the nature of his postings too, never subtle about his inclinations or ideas.

How to disarm and reutilize Purge Traps.

Most effective ways to incapacitate a violent assailant.

Government lies and why they matter.

Faking a BOPC (breach of purge code) and getting away with it.

There was little method to the madness that was his forum activity, besides the hint that he was evidently more knowledgeable about the subject than most. Plus the fact that he was proactive about his advice, actually seeking to teach others to fight back instead of just hide away and hope for the best. For another self-proclaimed Darling, Shou was ruthless with his methods —it was hard not to admire him.

And admire you did, keeping tabs of his sporadic bursts of activity and speeding to try and interact with him whenever you caught him online. You were, to voice it simply, simply star-truck by him (and perhaps becoming a bit of a fangirl).

Because whoever Shou was, it felt like he understood you. And so, against every ounce of your common sense or natural paranoia, you had finally decided to break your golden rule and reach out for the first time since you joined the niche forum.

And not to just leave a vague comment agreeing on public discourse, but to actually send him a private message. In your defense, how were you supposed to know the chains of events your actions would start?

Do you actually believe what you post?, had been your lame conversation starter.

Luckily for you, he did not leave you hanging. You made sure to send the message while he was still active, one of the few days a week you knew he devoted to his presence on the site (and wasn't it slightly creepy, how you had taken the time to learn his schedule by that point?)

I wouldn't be here if I didn't, dry, to the point and leaving you embarrassed to have even sent the first question.

Yet for some reason, something about Shou reverted you back into a middle school kid seeking to impress a way cooler senior.

Perhaps it was what he symbolized (a change for the better), what he appeared to be (everything you wish you were) —whatever it was, your fingers were frantically typing a reply as soon as his appeared on your screen.

I just think it's amazingThe things you know

How you share them with everyone

The way you see through the lies

I just think you're— , your digits hovered over the keyboard as you were about to type out the last sentence before quickly deleting it. Even in your excitement, you knew how obsessed you'd sound if you started complimenting him personally in your very first conversation.

So instead you sent your thoughts on his posts and awaited his answer with bated breath. A few minutes ticked by this time, your anxiety making you count down the seconds in mortified silence, slowly weighted down by your doubts until your notifications for the forum were going off again with a distinct ping.

I've seen your replies around. I think you're great too.

Whatever your hang ups for praising him directly had been, he clearly did not harbor any. As the prongs of nervousness alleviated their hold over your body, you struggled to see any problems with it either…this was a person you had come to idolize, and they thought you were great?

Your smile, while still anxious, was considerable while you quickly responded.

I'm just a n00b. Learning from the pros.

A moment of thought, biting your bottom lip as you decided whether to add a second message or not. Fuck it, you told yourself.

I wasn't even supposed to be posting anything, but you made me wanna reach out.

Was that too forward? Oh god, it was, wasn't it? You must've sounded creepy, must've sounded desperate and…

That's cute. Did my ramblings teach you anything?

An actual squeal left you then, sounding like it came from an altogether different person. You were an adult, with a career and responsibilities… Yet somehow, this stranger online indirectly calling you cute made you more excited than you were comfortable admitting.

Ofc. I didn't even know what a BOPC was before. Didn't know most of the purge traps you mentioned, either.

The spaces between replies were getting smaller, the conversation turning fluent as you both seemed to be staring straight into the screen, waiting for the other to finish typing.

So you really are a n00b then.

Shit, did you fail some sort of forum etiquette by admitting that? Somehow, the need to impress Shou was more palpable than ever.

And you clearly know your stuff. Makes me wanna up my game.

Be more like you, you left unsaid.

So am I your senpai then?

Your fingers froze just above the keyboards, eyes scanning over Shou's last message and reverted back to staring at his profile pic for a solid minute. You would've squealed again, if you weren't so taken aback.

You make it sound like I am, his second message lit up your screen, coming in quickly after your rare pause in replies.

I don't think that's bad, though. Third message from him, and you were close to fainting now.

Then in that case I suppose you are. You wondered whether Shou wouldn't think you were pathetic admitting that, or whether he had been honest by saying he didn't mind...

I've also noticed you agreeing with some of my more polarizing views.

A welcomed change in topics.

You thought to ask him which ones (most of his posts tended to have a polarizing effect, with people finding him either too radicalized or not radicalized enough), but before you could formulate the question you saw the twinkling circles symbolizing he was typing up another sentence.

Do you actually believe them? And now it was his turn to spit your words back at you.

Well, yah. You make compelling arguments.

Color me impressed then, the start of his new retort left your mind spinning. Never met a n00b like you before.

After his declaration, you found yourself writing and rewriting your answer, hesitating on your word choice, and yet pure elation coursed through your veins.

He said he's impressed with me, your brain kept supplying on loop. You had no way of knowing just how much of a lasting impression you were leaving.

I don't wanna stay one tho. I'd like to jump a few levels. Improve.

Barely a moment's notice before his last message provoked a noticeable hitch in your breath.

I can help you with that.

Which, as short of a reply as it was, left you giddier than would’ve been healthier to admit.

Perhaps it could be chalked up to your work shifts growing more monotonous and tiresome, your social life becoming a faint echo of what it used to be, or just the regular wear and tear from a too-plain existence —a routine where you didn’t tend to engage with life, but just passively watched it go by.

Whatever the true reason was, that night you went to sleep with such a wide grin that the apples of your cheeks had started to hurt from the exertion, infinitely excited after getting to talk firsthand with someone you had already come to admire by that point.

It almost made you self-conscious, knowing just how much it all meant to you, how such a small gesture on his part happened to mean the world to you.

But there was really no reason to feel ashamed or overzealous over your own reaction. If you could’ve seen Shou, you would’ve known you weren’t the only one smiling.

。。。。。

Almost as open of a smile as the one adorning his features right now, currently hidden from your view as his fingers set a maddening pace. Tortuously slow at first until his knuckles started brushing against your opening with each thrust.

All you could hear now were the wet sounds of your arousal facilitating his movements, motions whose only purpose seemed to be to drive you more rambling and disoriented by the second.

"Is this what you want? What you need, perhaps?" His usually calm voice was uncharacteristically affected as he gasped against your ear, the torture he was making you endure clearly getting to him as well.

You were much too preoccupied with the waves of pleasure and warmth overflowing your body to give a proper response, but your lack of one did not deter him.

If anything, your needy gasps and whines were the only encouragement he required.

"Don't worry, Y/N. I'll take care of you, make you feel good."

By that point, the hand that had been petting your hair had found its way to your sopping heat too, calloused pads circling around your pearl while the man continued feeding you his eager promises.

"I get you, baby. Just like you get me." So close, your entire body taut and ready to snap. "And you want me to take care of you too, right?"

You weren't conscious enough to understand the implications, your impaired judgment prohibiting you from reading further into the meaning of his words. He sounded so encouraging, so deceivingly tender despite stuffing you full of his fingers as you squirmed on his lap.

All you could do was nod furiously.

And later on, when your senses sadly returned, dedicated yourself to lamenting over which of your actions brought you down this unfortunate path.

。。。。。

Perhaps, your consciousness supplied, it had been the fact that you opened up so readily. That you had dared to share with a supposed new friend, things that should’ve better stayed hidden in the first place.

But goddamn it, you felt downright honored that he even considered you worthy enough to entertain in the first place. From the very first second, Shouto already had the upper hand.

During the first few conversations, the topics you two discussed were all closely related to the purge and your mutual hang ups with it. Concise and carefully typed out messages were exchanged, discussing opinions you had never expected anyone to be interested in hearing—not from you, at least.

But then, as the weeks slowly progressed, the subjects of conversation began shifting to both of your lives, to your occupations, hobbies, and, directly against the forum's policy for privacy, the people you two were outside the confines of your online corner.

Even without actually exchanging any real data or supplying him with your name or age, you found yourself starting to open up more and more with each day.

You told him about your grueling office job, the friends you hadn’t seen or texted in weeks, and the reality of an apartment which more closely resembled a containment cell than a home…

Revelations that you had kept hidden for so long, which now came pouring out without regard for how mortified they made you feel. You were conscious of the limits blurring between you two the further you kept going, of how you were telling him things best left unsaid, cramped and buried in a hard to reach place.

And yet, for some obscure reason, everything Shou represented made it impossible for you to resist the temptation to speak up, to demand to be heard for the first time in an eternity of quietness.

You’re pathetic, is what you expected him to say in return. Pathetic, weak, meager, and worthless. Anticipating him, somehow, to echo all the doubts and deeply held fears you carried inside.

Most of my friends don’t understand either, was instead the response you received. But most people don’t see what's wrong, what needs to be changed. You feel lonely because you do.

It wasn’t clear what you would’ve wanted to hear beforehand, the things you had fantasized someone would reply if you ever gathered the courage to share your anxieties. Whatever those expectations had been an eternity ago, they now vastly paled when compared to what your new friend was dangling in front of you.

It felt like he was giving an excuse for things you had always perceived as personal failings. If what he said was true, it would mean it wasn’t your social ineptitude that kept people away, your uselessness, or uninteresting personality.

It would mean the shadows around you could still be dispelled somehow, exorcising the silhouettes of a suffering that had become a regular companion in your day to day life.

Brandishing a courage that only anonymity could give you, your fingers were a blur on your keyboard as you tried to ignore the rapid heartbeat in your chest, the fear, and exhilaration from opening up for the first time in forever.

Something you would later regret a thousand times over.

And you do too, and it wasn’t a question, a nervous comment or a stuttered retort. With the aid of the text format, you could look as confident as you knew you weren’t. You understand as well.

You understand me, was the tacit meaning behind it. The prickling of unshed tears made it so you were furiously blinking, fighting against the downpour despite your eyes refusing to leave the screen for longer than an instant.

I do. More than you realize.

For all intents and purposes, your first mistake was indeed opening up.

And your second one was being naive enough to let him in. Seriously, why hadn’t you heeded your parent’s advice about stranger danger?

。。。。。

...If they could only see you now, coming apart at the seams and with the name of your tormentor being the only word you were able to string together.

"Such a beauty, and all for me," his praises accompanied you through the rough orgasm ripping through your body, lips kissing your forehead in stark contrast to the digits still pumping inside your heat. "Let me hear your voice, baby. Let me hear how beautiful my name sounds on your lips."

And you obeyed, because what other choice did you have. Mindless, broken, and oh, so needy.

You continued to audibly moan as your climax unwound, crying out his name in absolute reverence while Shouto's smile deepened against your skin. The chill of his touch was still as soothing as ever, calming down the embers of a lust that refused to completely die down.

When he finally pulled his hands from your core, you felt excruciatingly empty. But you were not given enough time to wallow in your despair, because who you once considered your friend was then grasping your face gently between his hands, leading your gaze to meet his—forcing you to witness the intensity and adoration present there.

"My Y/N."

Even in your deeply intoxicated state, the last few dredges of your senses supplied just how utterly abhorrent the situation was.

The sirens signaling the start of the Purge had died down a while ago, drowned out by your own cries of pleasure, but you could still see the remnants of the government logo still plastered all over the TV, its bright glow bathing you both in an eerily scarlet ambiance.

From the same weak place of coherence, a shiver of fear managed to break through your stupor.

"You're going to continue to be a good girl for me, aren't you?"

When he kissed you then, slow and almost ironically hesitant despite what had just transpired moments before, you couldn't begin to tell your body to refuse. Much to your own horror, you were soon eagerly kissing your tormentor back.

。。。。。

The second mistake leading up to your downfall, on the other hand, took a little longer to occur. It was after a few more weeks of conversation. You vented and talked way too much, while Shou listened intently and even rewarded you with a few crumbs of advice of his own.

So wrapped up in your new seemingly innocuous friendship you were in, you failed to recognize the magnitude of an event that should've sent you scrambling to shut off your monitor. A warning so loud it would've put the Purge sirens themselves to shame.

You see, with Shou's help, you were slowly becoming more of an active user around those parts. You didn't just stick to replying to his posts or lurking until he shot you a private message anymore; no, you were now officially a contributor, deciding to step out of your anonymity to share what you thought was a fairly interesting article. It was a rather long-winded thinkpiece on the morality of Darlings’ treatment after the Purge had ended—the reality of that year spent in captivity that most people tended to just brush under the carpet, all in the name of making the entire ordeal more palatable to digest.

In all your eagerness, however, you had failed to realize a very crucial detail, which was that the article was a whole two days old. Already an ancient text by forum's standards, apparently.

So with that in mind, of course you should've expected the hate, an outpouring of bitterness fit for a community of loners and acidic underdogs. You were on an anonymous forum on one of the darkest parts of the internet, somewhere most sane people actively stayed away from—Clearly, a rookie unwittingly reposting something was the perfect target for a lot of your bitter comrades. An excuse to finally take out all of their pent up frustration.

Fuck1ng pleb, thanks for copy-pasting the same post for the 55th time.

This is why we shouldn't let newbies post. Look at this mess @mods.

Time to hang it up, n00b. And by “it”, I mean your f****** neck.

i bet ur a girl, [Username]. u type like a b1tch.

And the icing on the cake for internet interactions, a myriad of wall spamming "KYS" being plastered all across the comment section, bold and daunting as they filled your notification box with the repetitions of hate. If you weren't so sure of your safety behind your screen, perhaps you would've felt intimidated.

As it stood, you were just embarrassed, mortified at the fact that you had seemingly botched your only attempt at leaving a positive first impression. If anything, it only seemed you had given everyone a common enemy to pick on for once...

Or that was, at least, until Shou happened to log in at exactly that precise moment. You knew he was usually busy around that day and time (he never actually told you whether he had a job, but you had surmised as much from your past chats), so his instantly recognizable profile picture and username popping up had you genuinely gasping at first. It was one hell of a coincidence, but you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief at what looked to be your savior.

Everyone, stop getting your panties in a twist. This is why no new users end up staying, the environment is abhorrent.

It was vague enough not to betray the fact that you two weren’t just strangers anymore, as well as keeping Shou’s reputation as a lone wolf from completely shattering.

And a comment which, surprisingly, instantly dulled most of the incoming messages your post was being flooded with.

People respected him there, his status as a renowned user giving him a genuine sort of power and hold over the rest of the community. One of the first things you had recognized on the forums was the distinct hierarchical structures amongst its users, and there Shou might’ve as well be granted the title of mayor for all the weight his every sentence carried.

Or at least they did with the majority of the community. As in every place where large numbers of people gathered, there were always a few rotten apples just begging to be tossed.

and ofc ur whiteknighting for her, Shou The Great. shes sucking ur dick under evry single post u make

You cringed, studying the bitter user that had decided to be a contrarian and easily recognizing him from unsavory past encounters you witnessed. Although, if you were completely honest, this time you couldn't exactly say his words didn't carry a certain degree of validity.

Shou had told you he was glad that was the case with you, that his post resonating with anyone was one of the main reasons why he hadn't just disappeared from the site completely. But in reality, saying you weren't subtle about your agreement with his ideas would be an understatement.

You were like a puppy skipping behind him, trailing his interactions and always ready to write an eager comment backing him up. Yet you had never thought others actually paid attention to your mostly one-sided interactions, the occasional meager downvote or emote being the only thing that made you aware your comments weren’t just lost in the sea of spam Shou’s posts were usually showered in.

For the longest time, your support had just felt like leaving letters for the man to find. Letters you hadn’t even been sure had reached their target until a few weeks back...

Suddenly, the sharp sound of Shou's incoming reply drove you from your tribulations.

Well, maybe if you weren't such a crude man you wouldn't be permabanned from starting topics yourself. Although I doubt anyone would be sucking your dick either way, shitty ideology considered. [Image attached]

A grimace was quick to grow on your face as you aptly studied the picture Shou decided to close his reply with.

It was a screenshot of what looked to be someone's post history, a rather extensive list with alarmingly offensive titles such as "Why male darlings should be spared", "The purge is a form of cuckoldry" and “Feminist agenda: female yanderes and their biological advantage [Repost]". Almost all of them exhibited a tragic downvote ratio right as well, besides the red symbol signaling the posts had been archived by senior users or mods.

For someone who also loathed the terrible holiday, it was almost admirable how the man managed to be almost as detestable as the criminals you all rallied against.

But even so, what disturbed you the most wasn't the clear bigotry of the user, but the fact that that screenshot couldn't have been taken from public records. A user's post history was hidden, just another measure on the site’s part to keep people from recognizing too many details about each other and possibly endangering themselves.

No, it could only have been taken from inside the account. And judging from the other guy's quick reaction, you weren't the only one who came to that realization.

how the fck did u get that

I knew u were friends with the mods. fcking rats

By that point, everyone else had stopped clogging the comments and, you assumed, instead opted to settle down and attentively observe the events transpiring. Apart from the emote reactions and the rapidly rising number of upvotes on Shou’s comments, you had all become a passive audience to the public ridicule.

Although you couldn’t help feeling slightly disjointed by Shou’s behavior. Below your wicked sense of pride at having him defend you, there was still the whispers of your gut telling you the man was going a little too far, his actions spelling a more sinister meaning than just “having a friend’s back”.

You've been here for years, Minoru. Surprised you haven't yet noticed how much of a pest everyone sees you as.

Minoru? You did a double-take, going back to read the username of the guy Shou was arguing with. But he just had a randomly generated number as a pseudonym, same as you and most others, and with just a picture of some anime sneezing girl to distinguish his profile from the rest. No trails or signs of what could Shouto be referencing to.

Nothing but an option you preferred not to consider. But it couldn't be, could it? your friend wouldn’t...

fucking delete that right now, man.

this isn't a joke, DELETE THAT.

Only that the abrasive and desperate reaction told you everything you needed to know. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, shock mixing with equal parts horror and amazement you couldn’t even begin to try and disentangle. Because right that second, you were witnessing your friend breaking the forum’s number one rule with a front-row seat to the spectacle.

And he was doing it all in your name.

Then maybe think twice before you go out of your way to harass newbies. Or have you had too much time on your hands after being fired, is that it?

It was vague enough not to represent any kind of threat... if not for the context of the site. And yet you all knew the hidden message behind it, the warning for whoever Minoru was to understand Shou knew much more than what he was letting on. That he could expose much more than he was currently alluding to.

y are u even doing this, shou? y do u care wtf happens to this noobslut anyways?

Shou's reply took barely a moment to appear, lighting up your screen and, despite the slightly morbid nature of his protection, coaxing out a smile to adorn your lips. It was like a balm being applied to your worries, quieting down most of your incipient concerns in favor of rejoicing.

They're a friend.

For fuck’s sake, you even screenshotted that for posterity. Somehow, him acknowledging the new bond you two had openly felt like a milestone.

When a mod came in to archive the post and give everyone involved a stern warning later on, you were already way past your previous doubtful sentiments.

Instead, the last thing you did before going to sleep that day was to open up your private conversation with Shou and send a quick yet heartfelt message of gratitude his way.

Months prior, you wouldn’t have ever thought you’d be thanking anyone for semi doxxing another human being. How rapidly things were changing, though, and all while you got lost in the thrill of mattering.

Thanks for sticking up for me. It meant a lot, you typed feeling slightly lightheaded, drunk on the idea that anyone would think you worthy of having your back.

You thought Shou went offline after dishing out his not so thinly veiled threats, but somehow he was back again in an instant, the sound of notifications going off shaking any remnants of your exhaustion.

Anything for you, [Y/N].

You were so tired, it didn't occur to you that you hadn't yet shared your real name with your friend either.

That night, for once, you fell asleep with a twinkle in your eye and the image of Shou's multicolored locks dancing against your eyelids. Imagining, ever so briefly, your fingers trailing down the back of a neck you now had memorized from analyzing his profile picture.

And, while you slept with your phone clutched to your side, you also failed to notice the peculiar sound of your own camera going off, the soft glow from the red light beside your lense bathing your features in its subtle illumination, flickering against your eyelashes and the lingering grin on your curved lips.

You truly looked angelic like that.

Suffice it to say, Minoru never bothered you again after that day. In fact, his name disappeared from the site not too soon after.

。。。。。

But now, to continue the grueling task of giving a context for your inevitable end, it is necessary to jump a month further into the future, barely a week from the excruciating present.

Because it was then that the last strike finished nailing the coffin of your proverbial undoing, burying you under the weight of your own ignorance.

You got your notice in the mail on the Day of Announcements, an inconspicuous letter lacking any further distinction beyond a scarlet government seal emblazoned across its front. But even before you opened and read the message, you already knew of its contents—easily recognizing the image before you from several of the varied posts you had seen floating around on the forums lately.

Purge Notice!!! Help needed Urgently.

Just got my letter. Do I stay hidden or fight back? [Open poll]

Third time getting mine. AMA about my methods.

The range of how you had seen other users reacting to their own selections was diverse, with some of them being more experienced while others, such as you, had just gotten their first letter ever. If things played out differently for you, then you were sure you would've been another one of the numerous panicked voices, awkwardly trying to maneuver their way out of their new situation.

And maybe, then, your odds wouldn't have been so completely fucked from the start.

As it stood, as soon as you laid eyes on the notice, the first thing you thought of was how quickly you could boot up your computer and open the forum’s private messages. Because, for the first time in forever, you were overwhelmed by the feeling of someone else being there for you.

Shou was your friend, had earned that spot fair and square after months of listening to you venting and sharing deep discussions; faster than you could even realize it, and so it was only natural for you to seek his help once the news of your selection for the new yearly Purge reached you.

He had even threatened another user for your sake, for fuck’s sake. So, really, what harm could come out of relying on someone you were sure was trustworthy?

Maybe it was too late by that point for you to snap out of it, but it was almost amusing seeing you being so easily deceived.

Just another reason why you needed him, certainly.

。。。。。

Already told you I'd have your back, had been his immediate reply barely an instant after you attached a candid photo of your hand holding up the envelope. Whatever you need, I’m here.

His lack of hesitation was palpable through your screen, heart hammering in your chest as you were faced with a kindness you had thought yourself undeserving of not long ago.

As soon as you closed your mailbox, you had immediately raced to send him the message, completely foregoing telling any of your other friends or family members when you doubted they would even understand you in the first place. Shou had been right when he told you people just didn’t want to see the truth, even if it slapped them right in the face, leaving dark imprints in the shape of their narrow mindedness.

But he was there, he was letting you know as much, in his own words. And for what felt like the hundredth time in the past few months, you felt incredibly lucky to have stumbled upon the Forums in the first place, to have traced whatever fortunate path had led you to find him—the one person able to distinguish you in a world you always thought you blended straight into.

Thank you, Shou, for everything. And at that moment, you really had been truthful, so much so that there were tears prickling at your eyes, an overwhelming feeling of gratitude drowning you with its intensity.

Indeed, your final mistake had been your desperate need for acceptance. A need that had, in the end, cost you everything.

You can call me Shouto now. No use for nicknames anymore.

Amidst the chaos of your life possibly crashing down all around you, somehow his revelation put a trembling smile back in your face.

Then allow me to repeat: thank you, Shouto.

Np, Newbie. Told you I'd help you level up, didn't I?

His teasing managed to garner a small stuttering laugh out of you despite the dreadfulness of your situation.

But you couldn’t help it. Somehow, every reply Shouto sent you only served to wrap the illusion of safety tighter around you. So tight in fact, that you should’ve started worrying about suffocating.

。。。。。

On the other side of the screen, the man with the multicolored hair couldn’t help but keep staring at the picture you had sent him earlier.

He was transfixed, eyes almost unblinking as they refused to separate from the image. The way your fingers tentatively held the letter up for the picture was simply adorable to him. Beautifully naive.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen your face before, like he hadn't already memorized the texture of your skin and the everlasting trace of a frown always threatening to dampen your mood. He read your expressions like poetry, every mole and scar furthering the securing of his interest.

But this was the first picture you had actually chosen to send him out of your own volition, the final symbol of a trust he had worked so tirelessly to earn. Used to catching prey as he was, the man wasn’t entirely sure when you had turned from a game into a priority, from a priority into the only thing he could even make himself care for.

And it didn’t help that it was his letter you were holding, too. His formal declaration of pursuit.

With time, Shouto was sure you would find it in yourself to appreciate the beauty of such irony.

But, for now, what he really needed to do was buy some tea. Couldn’t have your own stubbornness ruining your first encounter, could he?

。。。。。

In the coming weeks, your friend aided you and even coached you as you jointly planned for the horrific holiday, not only suggesting ideas but tracing the safety measures needed for them to succeed. You really had no reason to doubt him by that point.

That evening, after you finished letting Shouto know you were back from work, you made sure to pack all of your supplies into an inconspicuous bag you had acquired for the occasion. Whoever your Yandere was, it was best to not give any hints of your new acquisitions, just in case they were already stalking your movements.

Shouto had helped you devise the list, mentoring you in your selection of weapons as well as self-defense arsenal—what brands of pepper spray to get, which ammunitions were most efficient and reliable, even what kind of clothing was the least troublesome if the need to escape ever arose. If you had been sure he knew his craft before, now you were surprised at just how vast his wisdom genuinely was.

After the last few finishing touches of preparations, you were already on your way to the direction you had both agreed on (supplied by him, approved by you). There were several hours until the start of the Purge still, but the adrenaline swimming through your bloodstream was already considerable.

Shouto had suggested you visited him for the Holiday, quoting how the measures in place for his home made it nothing short of a fortified vault, impossible for any outsiders to break into (and for anyone to break out of, but let's not get ahead of ourselves).

With that in mind, how could you have refused his offer? Your place was barely an excuse for an apartment, windows that didn't entirely close, and feeble doors that could be easily broken into. Even if you weren't partly driven by the curiosity of meeting your new internet idol turned friend, it would've been foolish to decline.

So in a few hours, you were sporting a nervous smile on your face as you parked your car in front of the largest apartment complex you had ever encountered. It was luxurious in a way you had only seen staring back at you from a television screen, marble, and gold accents giving you the impression you were about to step into a drama set instead of visiting an online friend.

Before the surrealism of the entire situation could begin to set in, however, you noticed the young man sitting on the ample stairs of the building. He had an air of effortless elegance, tall and lithe, yet sporting a black turtleneck which hugged his frame and made it clear just how much sheer strength hid behind his movements.

And he also sported the same peculiarly colored locks you had already memorized from the last few months, the light softly reflecting on them proving to be an even more impressive show when admired live.

You were dazzled for an instant, wondering if, somehow, this entire thing was a prank and the Shou from the forums had just schemed his way into making a fool out of you in front of a handsome stranger. Way too convoluted, yet entirely too plausible to your bewildered self.

Until the man lifted his eyes—as beautifully dual-toned as his hair, and catching sight of you standing just beside your recently parked vehicle.

"Y/N," he was sharply climbing to his feet as he called out your name, the shy hint of a smile in his lip contradicting the monotone cadence of his tone. "Good to finally meet you."

You had first been under the impression that the Shou you knew was cold, the way he interacted with others on the site reminding you of an emotionless robot at times, but the man addressing you seemed like he was ripped straight out of a stereotypical rom-com.

Maybe he'd be the aloof, tormented heir? Which, in your fantasy drama land, would make you the nearly illiterate and poor love interest. Your feelings of inadequacy only grew at the comparison.

Almost cute, how that had been one of your greatest worries once upon a time. How foolishly eager you were to be liked back then.

"Shouto." The name still felt somewhat strange on your lips, even after he had insisted you started calling him that. "It's good to meet you, too."

He was by your side in an instant, taking your bags from you swiftly and shutting the door to your ride. From this up close, it became considerably harder to disguise your staring.

Even the scar which covered his left eye, a splash of reddish textured skin, somehow came across like yet another enhancer of his appeal. An underlying harshness which you couldn't help but be intrigued by.

"Your hair looks even better in person."

And leave it to you to once again find a way to screw first impressions. You were chastising yourself a mere second after the words left your mouth.

But Shouto only sent you that same hint of a smirk your way, his eyes appearing genuinely pleased at your praise. If he thought you were a weirdo and was regretting ever inviting you to his house, then he was a good enough actor for you to be fooled.

And fooled you he did, but with completely different intentions.

"You look just like in your pictures," came his serene retort not long after.

Which you assumed was a joke, keeping in mind that the only photo you had ever sent his way had been of the Purge letter you received a few days ago.

Laughing lightly, you tried to ignore the nerves tugging at your chest before catching up with him on the steps of the building.

As you giddily barged straight into the open jaws of the beast, it once again struck Shouto how utterly unsuspecting you were. How you trusted him so wholeheartedly.

He couldn't wait to see it all come crashing down.

。。。。。

Inside his honest to god penthouse, your previous feeling of insufficiency only became more severe.

The interiors were decorated sparingly, albeit fashionably. Filled with different muted shades and being unexpectedly traditional in the way they were designed. It was a stunning abode, even if you couldn't help but mentally point out how utterly unlived in it appeared.

There was not a single cup, shoe, or book out of place, everything perfectly polished and organized to the point that you felt hesitance as your sock-covered feet continued making their way through the place.

"Make yourself at home," Shouto told you most matter-of-factly. If you weren't so sure of his intentions by now, perhaps you would've thought he was being sarcastic.

Without any of your belongings to distract yourself with, you instead gravitated towards what you could see of the kitchen through one of the sliding doors.

It was very modern despite the rest of the aesthetic the penthouse sported, shiny stainless steel and spotless dark countertops. It should've looked out of place when paired with the carpeted floors, wooden furniture, and sparse pieces of classical Japanese art…

Yet somehow, it strangely fits. Just like his owner, you supposed, thinking back to the oddities that amounted to his unique brand of appeal.

And you really needed to stop thinking of your friend like that.

When you heard the door to the apartment being audibly locked with a resounding click, you instantly stopped your fingers grazing the smooth countertops. Your instincts flared up with worry for a moment, right before you forcefully willed yourself to calm down.

After reminding yourself of the true reason why you were there, the exhale you released next was one of clear relief.

"Want something to drink?" Shouto appeared in your line of sight again, hands buried in the pockets of his pants and looking like the picture of composure.

You felt embarrassed once again, knowing he had given you a free pass to roam but still somewhat self-conscious about intruding on his space.

"You don't need to make me anything. I'm fine." Your timbre was apologetic, not used to slipping into the role of a guest just yet.

He seemed strangely dissatisfied with your answer, closing some of the distance between you with a presence that had you almost flinching back for a second.

There was an intensity in his gaze, something which you could not quite yet place.

"But I want to be a good host. So let me." He appeared very serious about it, too, with his face growing stern as his peculiar eyes bore into yours.

Not wanting to cause further distress, you imagined relenting would be the best course of action.

It was like you were molded to be the perfect Darling, so wonderfully meek and gullible.

"Okay then. Water is fine."

Yet Shouto shook his head, still somewhat dissatisfied with your answer.

"Tea it is." His phrasing allowed little space for argument. "I know you mentioned liking a few brands before, so I took the liberty of stocking up on them."

A surprising burst of laughter broke through your anxious feelings then, drawing Shouto's eyes again from the particular cabinet they had drifted to as he mentioned the beverages.

He looked at you puzzled, an unasked question written all over his otherwise blank expression, and so you decided to reply from the surge of unexpected amusement you were experiencing.

"It's only a night, Shou," you didn't even realize you had slipped back into his nickname, too entertained by how much he had apparently overdone his hospitality. "There really wasn't any need for you to go buy my favorite teas."

His eyes blinked quite slowly your way, his expression back to his vacant mask before a smile reappeared.

"I wanted you to feel welcomed," he supplied as he approached the cabinet he was eyeing before, dedicating himself to searching for whatever kind of flavor of tea he had in mind.

In response, you just shrugged your shoulders with another chuckle.

"And I didn't get you anything. You're making me feel even more out of place."

"Nonsense," he cut you off in that deadpan way of his, hands rummaging through the most ridiculously vast tea collection you had ever seen. And then he added, decidedly quieter, "today is supposed to be about you, after all."

Too bad you didn't pick up on it.

When he ushered you back to the salon with barely a wave next, pointing at one of the cushions arranged around the short-legged table, you decided to follow his suggestion and wait there while he finished brewing the drinks. By now, you understood the futility of offering any kind of help when he was still so intent on properly welcoming you.

So, curious as you were, your eyes continued to inspect each and every inch of the apartment, drinking up all the pieces of info you could observe, that you didn't even think of the potential dangers of letting a stranger fix you a cup while you weren't looking.

Unbeknownst to the other, you were both actively counting down the seconds until the Purge started, minds lost to your own inner turmoils from opposite sides of the suite.

And for entirely different reasons, you were both filled with anticipation.

。。。。。

Meanwhile, finally back in the present after retracing the steps that guided you there, it was becoming increasingly hard to compartmentalize the chaos brewing inside you.

Shouto’s lips were the personification of hunger against yours, an inescapable gluttony to mark and consume every single inch of you he could encompass.

After a hint of understanding returned to your body post-orgasm, your vision and the sensations you endured were becoming disturbingly vivid. It was impossible to conceive anything beyond his hands ridding you of your flimsy camisole, palms cold in comparison to the heat you felt, splaying against your sides and slowly making their way up the sensitive mounds of your chest.

“All mine, baby.” You barely registered his teeth nipping at your bottom lip until a shock of pain snapped you out of your trance.

He bit you, and quite harshly too, but when you tried to instinctually pull back his response was to hold you even tighter. Before you could attempt to voice your complaints, his tongue was darting out to clean up the droplets of blood he spilled.

“Out of all the Darlings I’ve played with, you’re the only one I’ve ever even considered keeping, you know?”

And now that had you freezing, even amidst the cloud of desire still muddling your cognizance. His arms pressed you closer still, forcing you to bury your face against his chest, completely unphased by the bloody mess your mouth had morphed into.

Had he tricked others before then? Was that the reason why he was even on the Forums in the first place?

You wanted to ask him what he meant, wanted to demand explanations for a phrase that had dread closing around your neck like a noose. But whatever he slipped into your drink to keep you so awfully responsive and pliable, also appeared to make forming any complex sentences incredibly hard…

Shou, ever the receptive one, caught onto your change in demeanor rather aptly. His face nuzzled your hair softly, humming a calming melody as if you were a scared child who could be so easily reassured. Meanwhile, his hands hadn’t abandoned your breasts, still tenderly kneading them with a touch bordering on worship.

“But I’m glad you weren’t my first, baby. Means I could be all ready for when we met.” He rocked you both as he rested his back further on the sofa, opening his legs wider below you and forcing you to settle closer to his clothed groin with a whimper.

Your arms reached out to grasp his shoulders while you tried to stabilize yourself, the strain of his erection resting snuggly against your still sensitive slit.

"Helped me to know when to pull back," he kept confessing, purposefully thrusting into you while he kept lovingly massaging your chest, fingers twisting your hardened peaks to coax a new kind of mewl to be uttered against his skin. "Wouldn't want you to break now that I've finally found you."

The fact that your bodies seemed to fit so perfectly, even in your impaired state, was not an irony lost on you.

Abruptly, Shouto stopped fondling your breasts in order to maneuver your face again, both of your stares meeting in a vehement standoff before he continued.

“I’ll make this as close to perfection as I can, I promise you.” And you got a direct view of the vulnerability in his uniquely colored eyes, the nature of his words clearly heartfelt despite the atrocities they alluded to.

As you heard him drag his zipper down, the hand clutching your jaw trembling in anticipation, you couldn’t help the new wave of warmth spreading through your body, negating all the fear and anxiousness warring inside you in order to shamefully expose your baser desires.

Now that whatever had been clouding your judgment was pulling back slightly, your thought process had begun to snap back into place, overflowing you with a terrible sense of shame at your own reactions.

He gave you something earlier with your drink, you were sure of it, and yet you couldn’t help but still be horrified at just how much you were enjoying it. Once you felt the flushed head of his cock placidly rubbing against your thigh, the sounds leaving your mouth weren’t ones of complaint, peril or dissent.

Quite the contrary, actually, and it only made Shouto grow bolder.

As the hand clutching your face grew tenser, gripping you with force before tugging harshly, you got the hint. Now painfully following his lead, it wasn't long before the previous pressure against your legs was now resting directly against your cunt.

The pre-cum already gathered on him mixed in with your still oozing arousal, smearing the span of your outer lips as he lightly teased you one last time.

You were so mortified by that point, that if he had offered to end your embarrassment right then and there with one of the several weapons you knew he kept, you would’ve been very inclined to accept.

“... I didn’t even think there was such a thing as 'The One' before, actually.” You hadn’t even realized the man was still talking, ardent whispers getting lost on the intensity of the situation.

His eyes were searching your face, a satisfied twinkle lighting them up as soon as you returned his stare of your very own volition. Perturbed, you wondered if his delusion made him see anything beyond a twisted mix of lust and fear reflected back at him.

“But I now know just how wrong I was, Y/N.” So sure of himself, tone back to the stern cadence you previously associated with him for a moment, gripped by a gravity befitting of his obsession. “Indeed, I think you were always meant to be my darling… don't you agree?”

To your credit, you did struggle to speak up, to gain back the control over a body which had stopped listening long ago. Too bad you only managed a single pitiful word out.

“Shouto…”

But before you could even fathom attempting a better response, he was breaching into you, sheathing himself with an ease you wished you could overlook, turning your voice from an anguished plea into outrageously labored moans.

You had once thought Shou had been interested in you because he somehow perceived you as anything but pathetic, but you were beginning to think it had been your weakness which drew him in all along.

So deliciously frail, that even a predator like him had been driven with an urgent need to protect you. To break you down, just so he could be the one to build you back together.

As he started fucking you with shallow thrusts, hips bucking up from the sofa while he tenderly guided you until your body was mimicked his motion on its own, you couldn’t help but be the most disturbed at his oddly affectionate ways.

As awful as it sounded, now that your mind had awakened from its stupor all you wanted was for him to bend you over and abuse you, manhandle you and mistreat you in a way which unequivocally screamed assault. You wanted bruises painting your skin, proof that you hadn’t just willingly given up and facilitated your own ruin.

He was humiliating you despite the pretty words he decided to disguise it as—showing you how easily he could own you and even make you enjoy it, drug-addled drink or not.

But as his mouth latched around one of your hardened nipples, sucking generously until his name was once again fast on your tongue, you also couldn’t deny the crystal clear responses you were giving.

You could attempt to lie to yourself later, could swear it was all a delusion born out of the deranged man's mind, but the particular brand of your screams was unmistakable.

When your own hand reached down to facilitate your release, you knew you were already acting beyond what you could've previously attributed to the drugs. Toying with your bundle of nerves, you rested your forehead against Shouto's shoulders, tears from the pleasure mixing in with the subjacent agony of your guilt.

Why did it have to feel so good? And how far did the drugs truly affect you? Or had they just peeled back your inhibitions perhaps, baring you until all you had were dark desires and no self-control to contain them.

You still tasted blood inside your mouth when your walls started clenching around his cock, the coppery flavor entirely too vivid on your tongue. Hearing his own choked groans gasping against your chest, you felt his mouth abandoning your bud with a pop before his kisses were trailing a path back up—eager in their search of your face, your lips.

You were still cumming by the time a lascivious kiss connected you two again, unwinding in his grasp until his hands were the only thing keeping you whole.

“Even if I wasn't taught how,” he began promising while his rhythm grew frantic, barely resisting the allure of your core fluttering around him. “I promise I’ll love you, Y/N. Love you so good, you won’t ever want to leave when the next Purge comes.” He was getting increasingly excited by his own words, imagining a future where you did not need the aid of a little cup of tea to eagerly kiss back. “I’ll fuck you every day, fill you up and show you just how much I care. How much you matter.”

Faced with his degenerate promises, all you could do was gasp out his name one last time, perhaps seeking to express your reticence, perhaps oddly excited by the image he was painting.

You indulged him in the pitiful sound of your whimpers molding around its syllables, and it wasn’t long before you were coaxing him to join you with an orgasm of his own.

He actually came inside, you recognized inwardly after the aftershocks of enjoyment now quieted down to a lull, a new type of dread quickly following the realization. His cum was still shooting in hot ropes, stuffing you to the brim with the intent and purpose of a man bent on marking you, owning you.

But Shouto was so loving as he kissed you time and time again, painfully reminding you of just how nice he could be for you, how gentle and attentive. It made the lines between your tormentor and a traditional lover blur even further, the confusion clouding your sense not merely born out of narcotics any longer.

You had been so preoccupied with a monster outside your house once. A creature ripped from the kind of movies that were ripe with cheap scares and considerably cheaper thrills.

But monsters never were like that in real life, were they? As the man continued to cradle you in his arms like the most vulnerable of creatures, you were suddenly struck by how glaringly obvious things should’ve been from the beginning.

Because your Yandere’s obsession had not come with claws and a row of sharp teeth. No, it came instead with a suit of deception to hug its frame, the bait of acceptance, and the promise of a reliable ear to comfortably listen. It arrived with whispers that assured you that you were not alone, that it was not you who was flawed, but the world for not welcoming you.

It dangled everything your little heart desired, so by the time you were reaching out, you were simply too distracted to notice the dangers of the abyss you were throwing yourself at.

Luckily for you, Shouto had made such a void his home. And for however long it took you to consider the darkness as your own, his was a kind of hospitality that no amount of your struggles could ever hope to wear down.

And if the worst came to pass, if you kept stubbornly refusing and fighting despite your odds? Well…

He could always brew you another cup of tea.

-------

Well, I can finally rest now 💀

This monster of a one-shot took me a lot longer than expected, so I ended up being a lil later to the collab that I would’ve liked. Either way, I’d really appreciate hearing any feedback or opinions on either the fic or art (or both?)... I swear that’s what keeps me motivated ;___;

So fr, thanks to everyone who takes the time to let me know your takes! y’all are the bests of the best 🖤 And speaking of bests of best, special thanks and gratitude to the actual angels who helped and gave me feedback for both the art and/or fic @reinawritesbnha , @drxwsyni, @wootato, @snappysnapo and @coyambition. Don’t catch me seeing y’all drop your crowns bc it’s on sight 😠 👑

#bnha fanart #todoroki #yandere todoroki #todoroki x reader #bnha imagines #bnha #mha fanart #bnha x reader #todoroki fanart #todoroki smut #todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #anime fanart #bnha smut #bnha art #artists on tumblr #just art tingz

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mggpleasedontlookhere · 4 years ago

Text

mother’s care

summary: spencer leaves his mother in y/n’s care, but with her violent outbursts she severely injures y/n

word count: 3,331 reading time aprox: 13 mins

masterlist

It had been a few days since Spencer had left his mother in my care, and it had been more than a few days since my conscience was clear of worry. The pressing dichotomy between Spencer’s family and work life had been putting a strain on the quality of his life, in which I took it upon myself, with the highest sense of internal deliberation, to offer my services. The thought of lessening the weight on Spencer’s shoulders was the only thing keeping my motivation alive; other than the innate responsibility I had to care for my future mother-in-law. Witnessing the gravity of Spencer’s tired eyes shift into a brighter gleam as he was relieved of being tethered at home, made the strenuous work I endured worthwhile. But the thought could only do so much considering Diana’s behavior became exponentially volatile.

Spencer had just left for work only hours ago when Diana’s delusions became rampant, her paranoia increasing along with it. “Y/N! Y/N! We have to go now, they’re coming for us!” She yelled frantically while flailing her arms sporadically. “W-we have to hide- we- I- we can’t trust anyone Y/N! Call Spencer!” She rushed towards the peephole of the front door, slamming her palms against the wooden frame. “Where’s my son?!” She screamed profusely.

In urgency, I grabbed a hold of her wrists to restrict her from hurting herself as she did a few days ago. “Diana- hey, stop that- Diana it’s me Y/N” I struggled to fight against her resistance as she persisted to bludgeon the door with all her might. “Diana! Please! Loo- Look it’s me, I promise!” I urged, finally ceasing her attacks and calming her down to a manageable temper.

Then just a moment later, all of her anger dissipated as if nothing had occurred previously. “Oh! Hello there Y/N, when did Spencer let you in?” She inquired, ridding herself of my grasp and laying herself down on the couch. I sighed, propping myself up on the back of the door as I composed myself. “Oh my gosh, my scrapbook” She stated in bewilderment, glancing at the book of memories on the coffee table that Spencer had placed to induce her recollection of events.

“Yes it is” I smiled, pushing the previous outburst aside with an understanding temperance. “Would you like to look through it?” I suggested, making slow strides towards the book that was, now, well adjusted on her lap.

“That would be nice” She replied sweetly with a giddy smile. She took my suggestion as a notion to begin exploring the scrapbook, flipping through the beginning pages of the memoir. “Would you look at this Y/N!” She excitingly pointed at a picture of a young boy while I settled next to her on the plain colored couch. With an extensive observation of the picture she was referencing, I had come to find out that the little boy was no other than Spencer himself.

She shook her head in remembrance as I observed her deep in reminiscence, admiring how, for just a moment, clarity had filled her heart and mind. “This was Spencer’s first chess tournament when he was only five years old” She regaled, speaking of her pride and joy in his youth. “At five years old, the boy won against men that were ten times his age- can you believe that!” She expressed, an incredulous smile etching on her lips as she flipped to the next page.

“Spencer had told me that he had won his first tournament at age four” I added jokingly as the atmosphere began to regain a more pleasant air. I reached for a throw pillow that resided on the end of the couch, tucking it between my knees and chest for comfort.

“That silly boy” She teasingly scoffed in disbelief as she racked through her distinct memories; shaking her head at the utterance of my words. “He had lost his first chess match when he was four, but he was too proud to ever accept defeat” She explained, flipping through several pages as she spoke. I chucked in response, understanding the familiar- or might I say all too familiar- discourse of Spencer’s intelligent pride.

“Oh Y/N, dear, look at this with me” She beckoned me to take notice of a picture of a man on a tightrope, only the man’s face was replaced by an old cut-out of Spencer’s young visage. “Did you know that he wanted to be a tightrope walker?” She revealed, laying a gentle hand on the paper memory.

“I thought he wanted to be a magician?” I inquired.

“Oh, that was afterwards-” She proceeded to pat my thigh in a motherly manner as if I was her own child. “-after he fell off of our fence in the backyard” She chuckled, meeting my amused gaze with her own. I let her sink into her own world, satisfied with her sedated state of mind as I made my way towards my phone to check the time.

3:28 p.m.

Unfortunately, that meant I had to pull Diana from her comfortable space to give her the medication prescribed from the clinic and the experimental drug that Spencer had placed her on. “Hey Diana” I softly whispered, gaining her attention. “It's time to take your medication” I informed her with an apologetic look.

“Nah, I don’t like the medicine that Spencer’s been giving me” She waved off casually with a grimace on her face. “They taste awful” She didn’t look up from the book once, disregarding the task that needed to be done.

“Please Diana” I pleaded, heading to the kitchen cupboards to acquire her prescriptions; going to Spencer’s dresser to fetch the experimental drugs that were included in her regime. “Spencer had strict orders for me and you know how he gets” I playfully insinuated in the hopes of lighting up the tense ambiance. I continued to sift through Spencer’s cabinets- which was an absolute abhorrence to look at, let alone scavenge through- in the means of finding Diana’s prescriptions.

“Shit” I quietly cursed as some household items fell onto the floor, emitting a loud crash.

“WHAT WAS THAT!” Diana shrieked in terror, disturbed by the sudden disruption that sounded throughout the entire apartment. The sound of a heavy thud from a book in the next room followed Diana’s deafening shrills of panic, indicating that the crash had triggered another break from reality. “Y/N! Y/N! WHAT’S GOING ON- WHERE AM I?!” She cried in her unnerved state, stampeding into the kitchen as if her life depended on it.

“He-hey it’s okay Diana-” I dropped the prescriptions on the kitchen counter in a hurry, ignoring the mess, to prioritize Diana’s abrupt outburst. “You’re here in Spencer’s apartment- your son’s apartment- with m-me. Look Di- Diana! Look you’re here with me” I reassured her once again. Although that didn’t put a stop to her labored breathing, trembling hands, and distraught eyes.

“WHO ARE YOU?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY SON’S APARTMENT!” She vehemently spat in the midst of her frenzy.

I grabbed the medication off of the counter in a haste, preparing to have them in hand for a window of opportunity in administering them. “Diana- please- Diana, it’s me Y/N- you have to take your medication” I negotiated with her, keeping my tone as amiable as I can.

“GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!” She threatened, picking up one of Spencer’s textbooks and flinging it at the wall behind me. “GET AWAY FROM ME!” Items continued to soar through the air until Diana began to hysterically strike herself on the forehead. “GET OUT! GET OUT!” She squeezed her eyes shut, pulling at the sides of her hair.

Without a second thought, I leaped to restrain her from further self-inflicting damage. “Hey Diana- Sto-stop that!” I pried her hands away from herself, balancing the prescription bottles in my hand whilst wrestling against her sporadic movements. “DIANA!” I yelled, feeling my chest heave in exasperation; her provocation of my patience wearing my understanding countenance thin.

The booming sound of my voice infiltrated Diana’s sensitive ears, similar to one of a gunshot, making her cover her ears instinctively. “SHUT UP! GET AWAY FROM ME!” She wailed, her tone wavering as she enunciated her words. She forced her eyes shut once again, shaking her head while whispering a mantra to herself.

“Diana...Please” I pleaded, softening my voice in guilt. I uncapped the prescriptions, taking out a few pills to showcase the medication essential to her condition. “If you just take your medicine, you’ll feel better- I promise- please!” I affirmed, taking close observation to her present behavior. She began unraveling from her mental cloud, taking frequent peeks at the pills that lay on my hand. With a tentative reach, she reached out for the drugs and retracted her arm as soon as she had taken possession of them.

“Yes, Diana, they’ll make you feel better-” I sighed in relief, watching her examine the pills in her hand. “Do you want me to get you water? I- NO DIANA! STOP!” I halted mid sentence, the action of Diana pelting the wall with her pills impeding my ability to coerce her further. By instinct I picked up the pills in a frenzy of indignation, a slew of reprimands impulsively falling out of my lips, like a mother would to her petulant child.

“What are you doi- DIANA! Why would you do that? I’m just trying to- STOP! I’M JUST TRYING TO HE-”

A whiff of cold air glided through Diana’s fingers that followed her right hand. For a moment I felt time still, yet it took me an eternity to process the event that had unfolded in front of me- or which I would say to me. My cheek began to blare an ugly rouse, the painful sensation of throbbing encompassing the entirety of the left side of my face. I clutched my cheek in shock and confusion, unable to process her potent and unforeseen capabilities. “I- i, uh-” I stumbled over my tongue, my mind impuissant in regards to its verbal-cognitive skills.

“JUST GET AWAY FROM ME!”

In the last attempt of Diana’s impulse driven self-defense, she forcefully shoved me back into the dining table resulting in the wooden edge piercing my spine. I groaned in pain, clutching onto the end of the table as another slew of curses fell from my mouth. In the midst of the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I didn’t notice the stream of blood profusely flowing out of a large gash on my wrist where my veins were located.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” I panicked, inspecting a metal screw that protruded from beneath the table; the spiral tip now covered in blood and leftover skin. I rushed for my phone and a towel to ease the bleeding, although it was evident that I needed medical attention. Instinctively I dialed Spencer’s number on my phone with the hopes that he would pick up, although due to my misfortune, the call went into voicemail indicating his unavailability.

By this time, Diana had left the room and locked herself in the bathroom; despite my constant worry of her being, all of my attention had been on contacting medical aid. With a brisk call, paramedics were being sent to the apartment and police officers to document the scene. I whined in pain while the hands on an analog clock, that hung in the kitchen, moved at a snail’s pace, my vision slowly dissipating as my blood enveloped the oak floor.

I began whispering a comforting mantra to myself- or maybe it was all in my head- that Penelope had taught me. “Sa, Ta, N-na, Mm…” I shook my head to retain my consciousness, the black curtain between my blinks growing in duration. It felt as if my pupils had dilated and pulsed continuously, feeling every nerve in my body weaken along with my frail muscles.

I hadn’t even noticed the paramedics bursting into the living room, let alone the doorbell ringing to indicate their presence. In a few slips of consciousness, two men in uniforms were placed in front of me to my aid.

“Ma’am? Ma’am can you hear me?” One of them spoke, although with the combination of stampeding feet and muffled voices I wasn’t able to distinguish a coherent phrase.

Suddenly with an unexpected shock of adrenaline, I was able to slightly ground myself in reality. “C-call Re-reid, Spencer Reid- FBI” I sputtered out, squinting my eyes at the medical kit that they placed on the floor. “Ple-please, Spen- AH” I whimpered, the paramedics applying alcohol to disinfect the wound.

I directed my focus away, only for my eyes to land on Diana being taken away by a few police officers and a social worker. She was kicking in screaming, evidently in the middle of her psychotic break from before. She thrashed against the police officers restraints, scared out of her mind as she yelled her son’s name.

“St-stop” I whispered, catching the gaze of one of the paramedics. “Sh-she’s- fuck- she needs help, she has Schizophrenia and Alzheimer” I informed them, watching their eyes go wide in surprise; one of them rushing off to spread the message to the officers.

They carefully let her out of their hold, letting her scurry into a confined corner of the room before contacting her emergency contact: Spencer. The sole paramedic continued mandatory procedure with me, placing pressure on the gash while eavesdropping on the scene that unfolded behind him.

“Spencer? That’s who you want to call right?” The man inquired.

I nodded in response, grasping his arm. “Please hurry” I managed to say, letting my eyes lull into the back of my head in the attempt to relax.

Finally in the midst of the chaos, a lanky figure flurried into the doorway in alacrity. His eyes first landed on his mother who was being approached by apprehensive officers, in which he informed them, again, of his mother’s condition; with this the police force let the man run over to his mother to sedate her.

Then, his eyes fixated on my wavering gaze as he took a moment to take in the scene that laid in front of him.

“Oh my god, oh my GOD Y/N” He lamented, rushing over to where me and the paramedic were situated. “Y/N- I- Oh my god, I’m so sorry- I shouldn’t hav-” Spencer rambled on, his somber eyes flickering from my face to my wrist.

“Spencer, please don’t worry...I’ll be fine, go check on your mother. She needs you right now” I muttered. Although it seemed that he didn’t hear anything of what I had said as he continued to ramble through his anxious spiel.

“I-i got your call, but I sent it to voicemail- I didn’t think- I- I didn’t know it was important- then I got the emergency call from my mot- I- I should’ve answer- Oh my god, I wasn’t there” He punished himself, squeezing his eyes in regret.

“Spenc-” I attempted to interrupt, although was cut off when the paramedic had informed him that needed to be transported to the hospital.

After my check ups were done, the team swarmed into the hospital room in a flurry, but with no Spencer in sight.

“Oh my god! Y/N I’m so glad you’re okay- I’m sure one of my hugs will make you feel extra better” Penelope rushed over to the side of my bed giving me an awkward, yet comforting, hug.

JJ took this as an opportunity to inform me of my condition, explaining how the wound would take some time to heal, but everything else was fine. I nodded in gratitude, basking in the family that stood in front of me.

“You had us all worried Y/L/N” Hotch added, giving me a cordial nod.

“Especially pretty boy” Morgan continued. “I’ve never seen him run out of the room so fast. But, I’m glad you’re okay” He comforted me, taking a stance next to Garcia. On cue, Spencer crept in the room with a melancholy, yet relieved expression on his face.

“Speaking of…” Emily trailed off, taking notice of Spencer’s immediate presence. “Let’s give them space” She filed the team out of the room to give me and Spencer privacy.

The second they were out of sight he engulfed me in a crushing hug, whispering sweet apologies to me. He grasped my face in his hands, placing long kisses on my forehead as a form of consolation. “I’m so sorry Y/N” He sighed, keeping my face and his at an approximate distance. “I should’ve never left you” He antagonized himself, shutting his eyes in search of penance within himself.

“Hey” I whispered, making him open up his eyes gracefully. “Spencer, you shouldn’t be sorry, it's your mom for god sake- she’s my family too- I would’ve done it again even if you didn’t ask me to” I reassured, drawing small patterns on the dip of his palm.

“But she- I should’ve warned y-”

“Spencer, you have no control over what she does or how she is. Stop blaming yourself for not being there” I stated, pulling at his arm in a motherly manner. “Come here” I instructed him, tugging at the sleeves of his dress shirt.

I pulled him into a gentle kiss in the hopes of making his self-reproaching thoughts dissipate. He was tentative in kissing me, letting himself hover over my lips as if I were to crack like porcelain if he were to give him. I gave him a gentle peck on the corner of his mouth as silent reassurance, pressing my forehead against his.

He understood the message and pressed a long awaited kiss on my lips that made the entire room collapse into nothingness. The warmth that radiated off of Spencer making the interaction more visceral. He lingered in the moment for a few seconds before we parted, staring at me with a woeful look. Although through his somber visage, his love shone through the dark clouds that were present in his eyes.

“I love you so much Y/N and I-” He paused, sighing in recollection of the events that had unfolded. “I just love you so much- you and my mother- and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there” He apologized, running his thumb over my knuckles as he stared at my bandaged arm.

“But you’re here now Spencer” I interjected, reminding him to look forward and not back. “Where’s your mom?” I inquired, giving him a soft smile.

“She’s with her nurse right now” He cringed, his mind not leaving the dark thoughts that enveloped his brain. A slight frown made its way onto my lips as I subconsciously reminded him of the state of his mother.

“I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s okay Y/N” He reassured.

Silence ensued before he cupped his hand over my hands, basking in the image of me laying in a hospital bed in front of him.

“You and-” He paused, collecting his words.

I encouraged him to continue, squeezing his hand.

“Y/N. You and my mother are the most important things in the world- no- beyond lifetimes to me” He professed.

“Spence-”

“No Y/N- I want to tell you because I don’t know what happens tomorrow. But, all I know is that I love you wholeheartedly and no statistics can explain my exponentially growing love for you” He joked.

I joined him in his amusement, listening to his words with intent as the atmosphere of the room returned to a more sincere air.

“I love you so much Y/N- and I know that I don’t get to tell you often because I’m always away- but Y/N Y/L/N, you have my whole heart in your hands-” He leaned in, tucking a stray hair away from my rosy cheeks. “-I know you tell me to not worry, but there’s nothing else I can do but worry when it comes to you” He continued.

“Y/N...you’re my absolute everything and you’ll be damned if you think otherwise”

A/N:

i hope you enjoy it! i haven’t been writing frequently because i’m preparing for school, but i hope you enjoy it.

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bonkywobble · 4 years ago

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Isolation

Summary: You never regretted restoring old properties by yourself. Until now.

Pairing: Dark!Monster!Jake Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Horror elements, noncon touching. 18+ only - This blog and all works associated with are 18+ only. Minors please do not interact or follow.

Word count: 975

A/N: Trying to get out of my slump. Gonna go to sleep now, please enjoy. Divider by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

You found the rusted compass tucked away in a timber joint, well hidden behind the hollow wall in what was once an open office space, the discovery of the antique device putting your first DIY renovation attempt on hold. Seems you needed to be more careful; only one week after moving in and already it seemed your new home was prepared to reveal its secrets to you.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you clicked it open. A single name was crudely engraved on the inside of the lid: Corporal Jake Jensen. Though you had correctly guessed it was military property you couldn’t fathom how it got there or why it was even there in the first place.

You ended up opening more than just a compass that day.

Sign number two appeared the moment your head hit the pillow. Finally clean and exhausted from a hard day of ripping down plaster and rotted wood it took no time at all for you to fall into a deep slumber, the last of your conscious thoughts giving thanks to a higher power for letting this house’s plumbing being one of the few things that didn’t need fixing.

At first there was nothing but static, yet what had started as white noise soon grew into a cacophony of smooth voices, each coming from a different direction. None of them were recognisable but the louder they got the more distinct they became. And while they sounded too far away for you to puzzle what they were discussing, even in your dreams you could tell you didn’t belong in this conversation.

These words weren’t yours to hear.

One voice managed to stand out amongst the rest. It persisted, becoming angrier with each response it received. A final yell censored them all.

The pause following the outburst dragged on uncomfortably and you prayed for the static to come back; you couldn’t bear how quiet it now was. When it didn’t you knew it was time to wake up. The space around grew thick with unease, every failed attempt to coax yourself awake scaring you further.

Before your screams could break the silence, something else did. This noise came from the last voice, the one that had captured your attention the most. You slowed your struggling but when you heard it whisper again you froze, completely petrified.

Whatever was speaking was directly behind you. It called your name repeatedly, it’s breath heavy against your ear. And when you felt the thing behind you graze the side of your face, the shock was enough to finally wake you.

You shouldn’t have opened the compass.

The third sign came to you while you were weeding three days later, the camellia not there one moment but suddenly appearing between your feet the next.

Crouched in the backyard you examined the pink flower, brow furrowed as you looked up afterwards. Though you’d been so engrossed in the change of atmosphere to pay attention to anything else, you were sure there weren’t any camellia bushes around your new home nor in the wooded area that surrounded it. More importantly, you were alone. No one could have gifted it to you - let alone drop it in front of you - without you noticing. The real estate agent had assured you that there were no neighbour for miles, so renovate away!

Looking back you should have questioned it, but it had never even occurred to you to simply ask her why. Why was nobody else around?

You hadn’t crushed it at first. In fact, you had taken it inside with you, the blossom making its way to your nightstand. Peering out the curtains, your desperate and tired eyes scanned for something to ease the growing disquiet, but found nothing. Brushing aside any notions of paranoia you hastily retreated to bed, mental preparing yourself for another round of night terrors; you’d not had a single night of decent sleep since they first started.

You’d wanted to be alone but not like this. Never, ever, like this.

God, why did you open it?

The man in your nightmares - or what you now believe to be a man - has grown bolder. Though you hadn’t realised it before, you knew now that every sign had been leading you to this moment.

Something’s not right.

Tonight he’s graduated from standing behind you to lying on top of you, yet it’s not his weight that leaves you feeling suffocated.

It wasn’t the breathing, even though that’s changed too; warm puffs of air kissing your cheek, coupled with what you perceive to be hands caressing your face and shoulders. One hand even dares to travel down your chest, a digit gently grazing your nipple.

There hadn’t been any arguing at the start of your nightmare your space completely invaded without any noisy or static filled precursor. That wasn’t it, either.

Only when the man speaks is when the realisation fully hits you.

Beautiful. Soft. Sweet. You’ve never heard him say these to you before, his tone more desperate than ever. Mine. Your heart seizes - his voice shouldn’t be that clear.

“I’ve waited for so long.”

You quickly open your eyes, horrified by the fact that you were never asleep to begin with. A flash of lightning illuminates the man covering your form. A small, singular gasp involuntarily leaves you and he tears his gaze away from your body, and while you can’t see his eyes you nonetheless sense his piercing gaze. The light reflected from his glasses makes him seem soulless. Powerful. Inhuman.

His faces inches closer to yours. You desperately wish you could close your eyes and will this, will him away. A scream is trapped in your throat, body too paralyzed with fear to obey you.

“It doesn’t matter if you opened it. It never did.”

#jake jensen x reader #dark!jake jensen x reader #jake jensen #jake jensen fanfiction #the losers fanfiction #dark!jake jensen #monster!jake jensen #bonkywobble writes #dark!fic

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nobodies-png · 3 years ago

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How would Sora, Riku and Axel argue with thier s/o and make things up to them afterwards?

Sora :

Arguing with Sora is rather tricky. It never escalates to more than a silly fight between you two over the smallest of things - hogging the blanket, losing the remote, forgetting to do the dishes. It’s all mundane problems you two often laugh off. HOWEVER, if it’s something BIGGER and SERIOUS ? He’s taking the FULL blame for it, this is the way Sora operates 24/7 and OH HONEY

I’m trying to say that Sora’s developed some heavy ass martyr complex and he’s an unconscious hypocrite whose first instinct is to shoulder the blame for absolutely EVERYTHING that happens in his general vicinity and who cannot listen to reason at times, especially when his constant optimism stops working. So when a REAL argument breaks out it’s ENTIRELY because Sora cannot fix the problem at hand with empty sweet Disney promises, so he immediately blames himself. Like, please go argue with Xenahort INSTEAD of Sora if you can, cause holy shit there’s some layers and baggage here.

I got carried away thinking about Sora’s mental health. EITHER WAY. The argument between you and Sora doesn’t EVEN feel like an argument - because he’s just there taking the blame, saying yes to absolutely everything you say and somehow making you feel like you're overreacting. Chances are you’ll pop a vessel and LEAVE because talking to him is just so infuriating. And it’ll be EVEN more infuriating when you see Sora trying to make amends without giving you space or time to process what happened.

He leaves you heartfelt voice messages or texts apologizing, shows up with gifts at your doorstep, you name it. Sora is stubborn and persistent, probably asking Kairi and Riku for more ways to show you that he's sorry - so he's not going to stop until you go and actually tell him that you need him to back off for a bit. And maybe sit him down and force him to talk things out for real, it's going to be really difficult for him but he'll try for the sake of making the relationship work.

Riku :

Contrary to popular belief, even if Riku is/was (depending on how you look at it and who you ask) the edgiest of the trio, he is the most emotionally mature of them, too - since he’s had time to come to terms with all of his emotional baggage and work it out (while everyone he loved fell asleep/got lost/etc, yikes). Arguments with him are scarce, since he’s learned how to be more rational and calm, rather than just a frat boy with an inferiority complex. You're important to him, so he takes your feelings and thoughts into account and strives for a happy middle ground.

Buuuut even with all of this maturity, Riku still has his moments of paranoia where he might overreact and become overbearing, claiming it's for your "sake". Making something out of nothing. You know it. Perhaps he insists that you miss out on some big opportunity because "there's gotta be a catch". Something like that might cause a big argument between you two. Riku, always a pessimist at heart, will tell you about all the things that could go wrong, confess the fear of losing yet another loved one to something he could've easily prevented, etc - which only fuels his fears even more !

If you ignore his warnings, Riku would most likely try really hard to ignore you, in a "if you wanna be that way, then fine, go on" kind of way. Play it cool or whatever lmao. But he'd be checking up on you either way through social media or asking any mutual friends you might share if you're doing alright - cause there's no way he can confront you right off the bat (even though yknow, you've most likely been dating for a while but ok Riku). Until he calms down, stops getting embarrassed at his cringe behaviour, realizes he's overreacted and finally asks you to talk, face to face.

Not the type to bring any gifts to apologize, though - Riku feels that's a very awkward thing to do, as if he's somehow forcing you to forgive him just because he brought nice flowers. Gifts should be given to celebrate, not beg for forgiveness. His apology is very direct and honest, but if you leave him talking for too long, Riku will toted start to stutter out of embarrassment and oh boy. If possible he'd like to find a solution that respects both his and your feelings on the matter, so it doesn't happen again !

Axel :

This guy is all about full on confrontation, quite ironic for someone who was meant to be a sneaky assassin. He likes to rile people up for fun, because seeing everyone's reactions is interesting and you're no exception - you're no stranger to Axel's constant teasing. But sometimes, it can get out of fuckin' hand, maybe with a poorly timed joke, a comment that was meaner than intended, maybe you were just tired that day and didn't have the energy for his shenanigans. Either way, the argument totally starts because of Axel's oblivious ass and lack of touch.

Again, to him it's all fun and games - if he's offended you, he will apologize and make it ip to you with light touches and kisses. But if you continue being mad after he's apologized, Axel would just leave and let you calm down. He's not around the age range of Sora and Riku, sometimes people want to be angry and he gets it, catharsis is good. Still, Axel is impatient, so if you're not over it in a few hours, he WILL start complaining - again jokingly, to test the waters - but that will just escalate shit even further.

And that's when he starts being defensive. He's not above bringing up things in the past, and trying to one up you when it comes to volume if you raise your voice at him. Deadass like those dramatic couple fights in teen movies. Usually, it either ends with you two crying while eating ice cream together or making out, but the REALLY serious fights often end with you guys not talking to each other for weeks. And EVERYONE always knows whenever you two have a big fight.

Axel never apologizes openly, since he believes actions speak louder than words. Instead, he shows up at your house at 3 am, mascara running like the drama queen he is, waiting to be let inside so he can hug it out with you. And also make mental notes in his brain to be more mindful next time. For the next few days, he'll treat you to anything you'd like - from great dates to helping you around the house with any chores until he feels he's finally made it up to you.

#kh headcanons #reader insert #sora #riku #axel #Anonymous #tone down the character analysis challenge for mod demyx

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nebula-starlight · 4 years ago

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Sepsis (Pt. 16: A Story Told)

She… She hadn’t done it! She hadn’t murdered that Healer in cold blood. She wasn’t a monster! It- It was all the fault of that voice in her head. The one who constantly growled and glitched and made the last few months of her life a living hell without Nethreis there to keep it subdued. She couldn’t give the Other its satisfaction of a name. Names had power after all and her only goal at the moment, besides running for her life, was to prevent that… thing from having any more influence than it had already accumulated. So she ran, taking flight in the dead of night towards the nearby towering Northern Mountains to seek out a place to reside away from those who no doubt wished for her death. There was simply no way she could make them understand that it hadn’t been her who committed the heinous crime.

When she finally landed, Versila slid over the fine layer of snow and nearly lost her balance before grabbing hold of a frosted over boulder and clinging to it until her hind claws dug into the frozen ground with enough purchase to the point that she would not fall. Her eyes flickered around, taking in the bleak landscape and she sighed, wings pressing tight against her side as a bitter chill made her long for the warmth of an open fire. That luxury was one she could not afford now, much to her dismay, but she shoved off the longing and started making her way through the snowy terrain as best she could. Hopefully she had a far enough head start that any who tried to follow would have to struggle to catch up with her before the night’s shadows got too thick to safely traverse the landscape.

Unfortunately the cold did not prevent that ever-present glitchy voice from growling once again, seemingly irritated about something or another. And while it wasn’t entirely audible, or at the very least she didn’t focus too hard on it, the fact that it was still present left her feeling…. bitter. It wasn’t entirely the bitterness of rejection or the pang of jealousy but it was enough of a sensation that she stopped where she was for a moment and lifted her head to see the clouded night sky. They were better off without her in their lives. He…. No she couldn’t cast him aside even though he had left her alone for months while he went off and did the various killings commanded of him by those infernal Councilmembers and their pompous leader. Magnus had, after all, been the one to put the charge of her father’s death on her and then bind her soul to Nethreis’s in some sick twisted scheme to plant a sense of control over the kind, gentle spirit that had once saved her life in ways she hadn’t even gotten up the courage to tell him.

“Please…. If there is one who watches over us… please spare him from the horrid fate I fear those vile leaders have planned for him. He does not deserve such misery after all he has…” She trailed off, hearing just over the wind the faintest echo of a very familiar bellow. It couldn’t be. He wasn’t scheduled back for another few days at the very least according to the last letter he had sent her some weeks prior.

The voice in her head snarled angrily, glitching with enough force that Versila winced, feeling it ripple through her body from the force of the apparent hatred. Had the Other ever expressed such disgust of what was hers? For whatever reason she could not seem to recall and that thought brought her a sense of deep sorrow. Shaking her head, she was about to move on when some sense she could not name made her look back the way she had come so far through the snowed mountainous land. If he followed her… Was he still obeying those orders that had been drilled into him by Magnus? She knew of the secret meetings, though unaware of what was discussed, but saw how weary her mate appeared each time she comforted him in their home afterwards. It was as if there was an energy depleted from him after each of his meetings with the Councilmember and her concern had only grown the less he seemed to share with her about these interactions. Why was he acting as if these conversations were private? Was she not his mate and bound to his soul as he was to hers?

Another pang of a glitch made her even more uneasy and again she looked back behind her. For a split second she swore amongst the blackness she saw a flash of distant crimson. Why did she feel in the depths of her soul that something was very much wrong? Surely it was just her overly heightened paranoia making her incredibly skittish about the whole situation from when she fled during the night to avoid being arrested for yet another crime that was not her fault. To be honest she was becoming very tired of the sheer persistence of this unknown being who seemingly had taken up refuge in her mind, probably without her awareness even. It might have been her father’s cruelty that had awoken it but now she was determined to ignore the presence to the best of her ability.

She jumped, wings beating against the ground as dimly she heard what sounded to her like a very familiar chuckle, however it was much lower than she had ever recalled hearing before. Something was definitely wrong now. Every sense of self-preservation she had left was screaming at her to run. It was a hunt and she was the prey. Worse she had no idea where her assailant was coming from or even who it- Actually she suspected by now she knew who it was. There was every possibility that this had been planned from the start with those secretive meetings. It seemed entirely like something Magnus would do. He had been against her from the very beginning.

From the snow around her, Versila shrunk back, seeing the sudden appearance of a smoky gray mist that slowly swirled around her. She bit back a growl and bolted, taking to the air even as the shadows exploded right underneath her and a large dark figure slammed into her from below, talons tearing against her chest as she screamed. The Other howled in fury, glitching violently to the point where her body contorted and she fell, somehow spinning during her descent and landing on her side in the snow once all the momentum left her and she rolled to a stop. Her wounds stung, already oozing ink that slid down her graying scales as she whimpered and struggled back up on her feet.

That wasn’t her Nethreis. Not anymore. He was replaced by an unfeeling monster who had caught up to her and would surely attempt to make this mountainside the spot where her life would end. Versila spat out some sparks warningly at him, daring him to try for another strike. Her attacker landed gracefully some feet away after circling around, his gaze little more than a jaded, stone-cold glare of eerily flickering red. It was an utter abyss around her now, all traces of the earlier dusk having proceeded onward into the darkest of night. Had she not been actively trying to gauge how he would respond next, she knew she would have otherwise been seeking out an isolated place to bunker down until dawn rose next. Now she was forbidden even a sliver of a guarantee that she would still be alive to welcome in a new day. Nethreis had yet to address her and that knowledge was growing ever more concerning the longer the silence between them went.

“Silskiva.” His use of her last name alone made her flinch, the tone so eerily reminiscent of Raymos’s that for a split second she thought maybe somehow her deceased father had found a way to punish her once more out of pure spite. “Versila…. Silskiva.”

“...Love?” Her voice caught in her throat, barely resisting the urge to retreat away from his imposing presence. “Nethreis… it… it’s me. Your beloved. I know you recognize- Eep!”

His stance posture shifted, lowering ever so slightly at her words, though not in a sign of recognition. She knew that shift as a conditioned habit of his calculating mind affirming the plan he had decided upon. As he slipped further into a crouch, her breath hitched, stepping back as he bared his stained fangs at her directly. Versila started to turn to run but the Other violently glitched again, forcing her to confront her wayward lover who had not said hardly anything to her since arriving.

It wasn’t her lunging at him. Versila wanted so desperately to scream at him in warning but she found, to her horror, that she wasn’t seeing through her own eyes anymore. It was as though something had taken all control away from her and she was being forced to watch as Nethreis rose to meet the advance. She tried to stay focused on what was happening but she was strangely suddenly hit with a wave of sheer exhaustion. Going to sleep would be so easy…. He was here, he would keep her safe. Her most precious…. mate.

How she would be protected under his wings. Protected…. forever.

#sepsis #nether #versi #a coin has two sides

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leechobsessed · 4 years ago

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Ellanora Sagen

Full name: Ellanora Sagen

Ellanora - “shining light, bright one”

Sagen - “wise and knowing”

Pronouns: She/her

Birthday: July 5th

Age (at the start of story): 27

Orientation: bisexual

Magic: healing, water

Familiar: Bato the bat-eared fox

Love interest: Julian

Cannon route: Julian’s upright ending

Shippable?: shippable!

Theme song: Golden Dandelions - Barns Courtney

ALIGNMENTS & ABILITIES

Zodiac sign: Cancer

MBTI: ESFJ

Element: water

Patron Arcana: Strength

Upright: Strength, courage, persuasion, influence, compassion

Reversed: Inner strength, self-doubt, low energy, raw emotion

Minor Arcana: Nine of Wands

Upright: Resilience, courage, persistence, test of faith, boundaries

Reversed: Inner resources, struggle, overwhelm, defensive, paranoia

Magic:

Healing: Ella specializes in healing magic, especially in the elimination of pain. She can completely heal minor wounds without scars and alleviate all symptoms of minor illnesses. She has only ever been able to use her magic to save a life a handful of times, but such a feat leaves her completely drained for days afterward. She attempted to use her abilities during the height of the plague, but was unsuccessful. She mainly used her magic to calm the patients and remove their pain, allowing their last few day of life to be more bearable.

Water: Ella’s other specialty lies with the manipulation of water. She has always felt in tune with the element. She often incorporated water manipulation into her healing, as it seems to amplify the effects of her magic.

PERSONALITY & PREFERENCES

Personality: Curious, Caring, Dedicated, Determined. Ella is one of the best friends you will ever have. She cares so deeply for those close to her, that at times her desire to help and ensure everyone is okay can be overwhelming. She is very level-headed and works through problems carefully before making a decision. She loves learning new things and going on new adventures, and is always looking to make new friends.

Likes: fall weather, cold beer, warm blankets, whales, forehead kisses

Dislikes: insects with more than eight legs, celery, rude people

Fears: losing her memories, being left by the people she loves

Quirks: When nervous, Ella picks at the skin around her thumbnails. She is constantly tucking a stray strand of hair back behind her ear because it will never, ever, stay out of her face. She thinks out loud, so it often seems she’s having conversations with herself, or with inanimate objects. She hums to herself when she’s happy.

Favorite food: apple pie

Favorite drink: beer

Favorite flower: carnations

Most likely to: burn dinner because she got distracted

APPERANCE

Height: 5′ 9″

Eyes: left - blue, right - green

Although her eyes are two different colors, they are very subtle, and not many people notice. Her siblings used to make fun of her for it, so even as an adult she embarrassed and self conscious when people point it out.

Hair: Very wavy, unmanageable, long, chestnut brown hair. It’s always falling in front of her face and getting in the way, despite her best efforts to tame it.

Color theme: dark, earthy tones, especially navy, dark green and dark reds

Fashion sense: functional and comfortable. Ella pretty much exclusively wears long dresses

FAMILY & FACTS

Family: Ella has a huge family, and is the youngest of 12 children. Many of her older siblings moved out when she was very young, so she never really knew them. She was closest to her sister Fiona and her brother Miles growing up. Her family owned a tailor shop, where the children would work and help their parents.

Father - Matthias

Mother - Vera

Aunt - Vivian, Vera’s younger sister

Siblings - 7 brothers, 4 sisters

Damian (brother, +16 years older)

Sara (sister, +14 years older)

Ronan (brother, +12 years older)

Amara (sister, +11 years older)

Beau (brother, Luka’s twin, +10 years older)

Luka (brother, Beau’s twin, +10 years older)

Gideon (brother, + 8 years older)

Fiona (sister, +7 years older)

Nina (sister, +5 years older)

Wells (brother, +4 years older)

Miles (brother, +3 year older)

[Ella]

Hometown: Ella was born and raised in Paraka. She was homeschooled her whole life and worked in her parent’s tailor shop during her childhood. When she was 16, she left home to live with her aunt in Vesuvia to learn magic.

Five facts:

Ella has always kept journals. She still has a few from before she died, which is the only thing that can give her a glimpse into her past

She wears a ring on her right middle finger, given to her by her mother before she left for Vesuvia. It’s a thin silver ring with small chips of blue and green stones, and Ella never takes it off

Even though she can’t remember working in her parent’s shop in her youth, Ella is still a very proficient seamstress, and makes all of her own clothes

Ella cannot cook to save her life, but she’s a decent baker

Whales are her favorite animal of all time, even though she has never seen one. She hopes to, one day, but for now the dozens of books she has about them will suffice

Amazing Art By Fantastic People!

@vissenta-senadz

@peach-pink

@verysoftthings

#you guys wanna read about ella?#heres her bio (im sorry it took so long)#ella the apprentice #the arcana #fan apprentice #apprentice bio #the arcana game #arcana eotp

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g00by3 · 3 years ago

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hey so my current health teachers mental health cirriculum sucks (i cant spell) so i made a list of most mental health disorders w info on each one. i plan on sending it to her but first i wanna check: is there any edits i should make? is there any misinformation or things i left out? pls let me know!! (paper below the cut):

Mental Health Disorders

Mental health disorders are a range of disorders that alter one's way of thinking, functioning, moods, and behavior. These disorders are often stigmatized but education about definitions and breaking down common misconceptions can help break the stigma. Breaking the stigma can help individuals get help while struggling with any of these disorders.

Trigger Warning for in-depth discussion of mental illness

Depression

Depression is a mental health disorder characterized through constant feeling of sadness, hopelessness, and general loss of interest in hobbies. These feelings impact your day to day life.

Types of depression include:

Major Depression/MDD (Major Depressive Disorder)- The technical term used by health professionals to describe the most common form of depression.

Manic Depression [Bipolar Disorder]- Bipolar Disorder was previously known as manic depression, and the term manic depression is outdated. The term “Bipolar disorder” was released in the DMS-3.

Seasonal Depression/SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder)- A mood disorder with a seasonal pattern. The cause is believed to be due to the variation of light exposure in different seasons. Depression in winter is the most common form of SAD.

Psychotic Depression- A disconnect from reality due to a depressive condition, which can involve hallucinations, delusions, paranoia, etc.

Anxiety

GAD or Generalized Anxiety Disorder is a disorder in which a person exhibits excessive anxiety most days, for at least 6 months, about a variety of things. This worrying impairs daily functioning. Anxiety can be related to a plethora of things such as health, social interactions, work/school, etc.

Types of anxiety include:

Panic Disorder- A type of anxiety disorder in which a person has recurring panic attacks. A panic attack are periods of extreme anxiety, often including increased heart rate, sweating, nausea, and other physical reactions.

Social Anxiety- Anxiety towards social or performance situations. People with social anxiety worry about how others will perceive them or their actions, which often causes them to avoid social situations.

Separation Anxiety Disorder- A disorder commonly seen in children (while still possible to occur in adulthood) in which an individual has anxiety about being separated from people they have an attachment towards.

PTSD

A type of anxiety disorder caused by experiencing, or witnessing a traumatic event. PTSD stands for “post-traumatic stress disorder.” In the World Wars it was known as “shell shock” and “combat fatigue” among the soldiers. Can be caused by a variety of things, such as war, death of a loved one, violence, abuse of any kind, natural disasters, car accidents, etc. Not everyone who goes through something traumatic develops PTSD though, as everyone’s brain works and processes things differently. PTSD includes symptoms of nightmares, flashbacks, body memories, etc.

C-PTSD or “Complex-PTSD” is a specific type of PTSD. This disorder occurs when trauma is long-lasting and repeating.

Eating Disorders

Eating disorders are a group of disorders characterized by severe and persistent disturbance in eating behaviors as a way to alter one’s weight and/or physical appearance.

Common types of eating disorders include:

Anorexia Nervosa- Individuals who struggle with this disorder often restrict their calorie or food intake, or carefully manage what they eat as a means to lose weight. Some people may also purge through the use of laxatives or self-induced vomiting, may over-exercise, and/or may binge eat. The distinction between “atypical” and “typical” anorexia is harmful and unnecessary as both are dangerous and cause the same amount of psychological as well as medical damage.

Bulimia Nervosa- A disorder in which an individual binge eats, or consumes large amounts of food in a short period of time, followed by purging.

BED (Binge-Eating Disorder)- A person with this disorder consumes large quantities of food in a small period of time, often to the point of discomfort, and experiences negative emotions in regards to it afterwards. These emotions include shame, guilt, or distress.

EDNOS (Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified)- When an individual meets many, but not all, of the diagnostic criteria of anorexia and bulimia.

DID

DID or Dissociative Identity Disorder is a disorder caused by repeated childhood trauma before the age of 7-9, which is when a child’s ego state is supposed to integrate but is unable to do so due to this disorder. It is described as the presence of two or more dissociative identities, or alters, with amnesia between them. People with this disorder are known as “systems” and alters are all individual identities. Previously known as MPD (Multiple Personality Disorder) until 1994, DID affects approximately 1% of the population worldwide.

OSDD (Otherwise Specified Dissociative Disorder), previously known as DDNOS (Dissociative Disorder Not Otherwise Specified) until the DSM-5’s release in 2013, is a disorder therapists may diagnosis when a patient experiences distressing dissociative symptoms that impair daily functioning, but don’t meet the full criteria for another dissociative disorder. OSDD-1 is a dissociative disorder that serves as a catch-all for individuals with symptoms that do not perfectly align with diagnostic criteria for another dissociative disorder.

The two types of OSDD-1 are:

OSDD-1a- A type of dissociative disorder in which alters are present but less distinguished and cannot “front” (take control of the body), but can passively influence one another. Amnesia is also present.

OSDD-1b- Distinct alters are present, can front, but there is no reported amnesia.

Other types of OSDD are:

OSDD-2- Derealization (feeling as though reality, or one’s surroundings aren’t real) without depersonalization (feeling disconnected from one’s body, thoughts, mind, memories, etc).

OSDD-3, OSDD-4, OSDD-5- Similar to DID symptoms, but due to brainwashing, dissociative trace, Ganser syndrome, etc.

OSDD-6- A dissociative disorder in which symptoms are unclear.

Bipolar Disorder

Bipolar disorder is a condition in which extreme mood swings with acute highs and drastic lows occur. This condition was known as manic depression until 1980. A manic episode is when a person with bipolar experiences increased euphoria, motivation, and hyperactivity, a decreased need for sleep, and oftentimes experiences feelings of being “godlike” or invincible. Manic episodes can also lead to impulsive behavior.

There are two types of bipolar disorder:

Bipolar I- At least one manic episode has occurred, with hypomanic and major depressive episodes occurring as well.

Bipolar II- At least one depressive episode and hypomanic episode. but a manic episode has never occurred.

OCD

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is a disorder in which a person gets stuck in a pattern of obsessions and compulsions. Obsessions are intrusive thoughts that trigger negative feelings that are intense and distressing. Compulsions are behaviors that a person with OCD partakes in to control these intrusive thoughts, or manage their distress. OCD is beyond just wanting to be clean or needing everything to be symmetrical- it is an exhausting disorder that negatively impacts one’s daily life.

ADHD

ADHD stands for Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder, and is characterized by symptoms of hyperactivity, difficulty paying attention, and impulsivity, all of which impact an individual negatively in two or more settings. ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder) was a term used to describe individuals with symptoms of ADHD minus the hyperactivity, but as of the release of the DSM-5, it is an outdated term.

Body Dysmorphia

This is a mental health disorder in which a person fixates on a flaw in their appearance to the point where it is distressing and may cause a person to avoid social situations. Oftentimes this flaw seems minor, or even nonexistent to others, but to a person with body dysmorphia, it is anxiety-inducing.

Gender Dysphoria

Severe psychological distress due to an incongruence between one’s gender identity and their sex assigned at birth. Seen in lots of transgender individuals, but not all.

Psychotic Disorders

A kind of mental health disorder that impacts one’s mind and mode of thinking. These disorders often cause a disconnect from reality.

Types of psychotic disorders include:

Schizophrenia- A person with schizophrenia experiences changes in behavior, hallucinations, and delusions, all lasting longer than 6 months. These symptoms often affect the person in their daily life or relationships.

Schizoaffective Disorder- Symptoms of both schizophrenia and a mood disorder can be an indicator of schizoaffective disorder.

Delusional Disorder- A disorder in which an individual experiences a delusion (a belief that is held, but false) involving a real-life situation that isn’t true. Examples are: being followed, having a disease, and being plotted against. This delusion must be at least one month long. The five primary types of delusions are: mood or atmosphere, perception, memory, ideas, or awareness.

Personality Disorders

A personality disorder is a type of mental health disorder where an unhealthy pattern of thinking, functioning, and behaving occurs. This causes significant problems in an individual's life.

Types of personality disorders include:

BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder)- A mental health disorder with symptoms of: intense fear of abandonment, a pattern of unstable intense relationships, distorted sense of self/identity, dissociation, impulsive and risky behavior, suicidal threats or threats of self-harm, intense mood swings, inappropriate anger, and chronic emptiness.

ASPD (Antisocial Personality Disorder)- A disorder identified by patterns of disregarding or violating other’s emotions or wellbeing. A person with ASPD may not conform to societal norms, may lie or manipulate others, or act impulsively.

NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder)- A pattern of demands for admiration and/or a lack of empathy for others. A person with this personality disorder may view themselves as superior, expect to be worshipped or treated as above all else, or feel entitled to whatever their heart desires.

Avoidant Personality Disorder- A disorder characterized by being extremely shy, sensitivity to criticism, poor self-esteem, and feeling anxiety towards the way they are perceived.

OCPD (Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder)- Similar to OCD, as both have obsessions with rituals, habits, and cleanliness, but distinctly different. OCPD is a pattern of absorption in cleanliness, control, perfection, and schedules.

Paranoid Personality Disorder- A disorder in which a person is suspicious of others and their motives, seeing them as evil or bad. A person with this disorder may believe people are out to get them, or hurt them, or lie to them, and may avoid confiding in others due to this paranoia.

Histrionic Personality Disorder- A pattern of attention seeking and strong emotions. A person with this disorder will take extreme measures to be the center of attention, such as alter their appearance or act out.

Schizoid Personality Disorder- A pattern of detachment from social relationships, and difficulty expressing emotion. A person with schizoid personality disorder often chooses to be alone, and doesn’t care what others' views on them are.

Schizotypal Personality Disorder- People with this disorder have a pattern of being uncomfortable in close relationships. have distorted thinking, or eccentric behavior. They may behave in ways that seem strange or believe odd things.

Substance Use Disorder/Drug Addiction

Substance Use Disorder is a disease that impacts a person mentally and physically, and affects nearly 21 million Americans. Drug addiction happens when a person is unable to control their use of a drug due to a variety of reasons, despite the harm it causes.

Conduct Disorder

A serious disorder in which a child/teen displays a pattern of disruptive or violent behavior, and has trouble obeying rules.

SOURCES:

https://www.betterhealth.vic.gov.au/health/conditionsandtreatments/depression#types-of-depression

https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/anxiety-disorders/

https://www.psychiatry.org/patients-families/ptsd/what-is-ptsd

https://www.verywellmind.com/what-is-complex-ptsd-2797491

https://www.psychiatry.org/patients-families/eating-disorders/what-are-eating-disorders

https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/learn/by-eating-disorder/anorexia

https://www.healthline.com/health/bulimia-nervosa

https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/learn/by-eating-disorder/bed

https://www.dpt.nhs.uk/our-services/eating-disorders/what-is-an-eating-disorder/eating-disorder-symptoms/eating-disorder-not-otherwise-specified-ednos-symptoms

https://www.isst-d.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/Fact-Sheet-IV-What-Are-the-Dissociative-Disorders_-1.pdf

https://www.healthyplace.com/abuse/dissociative-identity-disorder/dissociative-identity-disorder-did-statistics-and-facts

https://did-research.org/comorbid/dd/osdd_udd/did_osdd

https://plurality-dictionary.fandom.com/wiki/OSDD-1a

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Other_specified_dissociative_disorder

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/bipolar-disorder/symptoms-causes/syc-20355955

https://iocdf.org/about-ocd/

https://www.cdc.gov/ncbddd/adhd/index.html

https://www.cdc.gov/ncbddd/adhd/diagnosis.html

https://www.understood.org/en/learning-thinking-differences/child-learning-disabilities/add-adhd/difference-between-add-adhd

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/body-dysmorphic-disorder/symptoms-causes/syc-20353938

https://www.psychiatry.org/patients-families/gender-dysphoria/what-is-gender-dysphoria

https://www.webmd.com/schizophrenia/guide/mental-health-psychotic-disorders

https://www.webmd.com/mental-health/delusions-types

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/personality-disorders/symptoms-causes/syc-20354463

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/borderline-personality-disorder/symptoms-causes/syc-20370237

https://www.psychiatry.org/patients-families/personality-disorders/what-are-personality-disorders

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/drug-addiction/symptoms-causes/syc-20365112

https://www.addictioncenter.com/addiction/addiction-statistics/

https://www.webmd.com/mental-health/mental-health-conduct-disorder

also damn if you read all of this, hope ur ok lol

i literally just wrote this for fun in four hrs bc im hyperfixating on researching mental health disorders rn.

#finch #let me know anything guys pls #i dont wanna send a totally ridiculous thing to the teacher

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zelihatrifles · 4 years ago

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to you, my self

(as my pre-pandemic self)

Oh how i wish i could stay home for a while longer

From now on it's going to be only exams and stress

No, not only that

They'll be followed by snippets of addas with friends afterwards

With an earthen bhaanr of chai

When we exit the school gates

Or perhaps after that there'll be some new lessons

In driving a car, leading a life, learning to love

Or perhaps, no, not perhaps, but certainly

There'll be so many new têtês and cœurs

To know and be with

Quite a fête of freedoms and ideas

Life will start and i just wish that i could rest on my bed awhile

Before i lose myself in the heady colours and scintillating aromas of adulthood

In the twentieth year of this cyber century

I promise myself that apart from studies

I will define myself by my other inclinations too

Political and secular

What? Are you kidding me, self?

I know you've read Aristotle

"Man is a social animal, he cannot live alone"

How then can i live apart from all my kindred spirits

Cooped up inside three four-walled rooms

For months and weeks and days

Ah i see what you mean … a period of rest?

A time to reflect in solitude

Upon your rages, my smiles, your tears, my laughs

That is what it is, a few tranquil days to collect me and you together, isn't it?

No?

Even after i'd have spent time more than enough

On all these same old new thoughts

They still won't allow me to go out? Who will stop me!

Ah, you tell me there will come a non-living deadly being

Infecting our lungs and all

Oh you are exaggerating for sure

Harping on some sort of grown-up spiritual anguish

You claim that since you are the older myself, you know more pain

That you are wiser because you have experienced so much and so longer

But i do not believe me

I will not accept that these annoying clingy beings that humans are

Will one day be forced to live in a socially sanctioned isolation

And meet only the cyber selves of their loved and not-loved ones

On small screens of their smart systems

And more importantly, that they will even get used to it

What if i tell you that one day you'll miss

The smell of body odour in a cramped metro compartment

So much that you will pray to your agnostic god

So that you can smell that awful thing again soon

Would you believe this, huh?

Would i believe this?

You say it's true!

You think a year's isolated wisdom makes you infallible

But i think it's just my future cynicism

Well, you tell me, people all over the world will be isolated yet not

In fact, this will be the time when people will become the most together they can ever be

They'll need the togetherness and unity

As much as you need me

That is to say, to exist

You try to horrify me with tales of human cruelty

But that hardly comes as a surprise

But no, you tell me with your pandemic-infused paranoia that

Dictators would rise all over the world

That life would become harder for the have-nots

That all self-proclaimed holy priests would completely forget their gods

And the gods their obsequious fanatics

That we would be in the greatest need of uniting and protesting

So that we can survive as humans

You fascinate me with your ideas and panic

It's almost as if i don't know me any more

Something's so irreversibly changed

I do not believe that i'll ever be in such a dire need of security and comfort

Immediately you remind my younger self

Of the loves that never changed

Of the tiny habits and hates which persisted

Even when you were wallowing in abyssal depths of panic and pain

Of the hope that your cynic heart and my stupid brain still held on to

Of the body that evolved slowly and surely

While the psyche bloomed into a wise old flower as if a hundred years have passed

For the pandemic – a new word you give me – would

Chastise us

Deject us

Scare us

And uplift us

With the lightest and frailest and strongest of human emotions

Hope

#pre-corona times #pandemic #hope #poetry #introspection

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homenum-revelio-hq · 4 years ago

Photo

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Erin!

You have been accepted for the role of LUCINDA TALKALOT with the facelaim change of Alisha Boe! We are thrilled to have Lucinda on the dash! We’re so excited to see what you bring to her, especially with her being thrown into this whole new world. We can’t wait to see her come into her own! Welcome to the roleplay!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME & PRONOUNS: Erin she/her

AGE: 26. Yeesh.

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I never work later than 6 on the weekdays and I’m always off on the weekends, so I should definitely be able to meet the minimum! My hope is to be active for a little bit every day, but knowing that life gets in the way, my realistic expectations is a session about three times a week.

ANYTHING ELSE: I’ve done a few Tumblr rps, but it’s been a bit since my last one. For an idea, I go all the way back to the Hogwarts Extreme days. Yeah. I’m old.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Lucinda Moira Talkalot

AGE: 19 years old as of the current timeline (February 27)

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cisgender female, she/her, and, as of now, she identifies as heterosexual.

BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Slytherin

ANY CHANGES: I’d love to use Alisha Boe!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

Lucinda Talkalot had always enjoyed radio dramas. Everything felt so dramatic and over the top and so unlike life. It was all pretty hilarious, the overblown dialogue and long, meandering monologues. Personally, although she thought it was all very cute, she was very happy she lived in reality, away from all the melodrama. Life wasn’t a radio play. If it was, Lucinda would happily play Dry, Sarcastic British Girl #132. And that was only if there weren’t any tree roles leftover. No one could quite put their finger on what came over the Sorting Hat to place her in Slytherin, least of all Lucinda. She took great pride in Just Being Lucinda, and was shocked to find herself suddenly sharing a room with multi-galleonaires. Not that it wasn’t neat. It was pretty neat. Like when Maribel Sparksley accidentally received her sister’s invitation to Reginald Wishwell’s Spring Cotillion on last week’s radio program. But, they all had this… oomph. No other sound effect to describe it. They had it, and she just… didn’t. She’d tried. Well, within reason. There were just some things that definitely weren’t her. Most often, they were simply too… much? She was okay with Just Being Lucinda, and most people in her life agreed. Happy with the occasional withering comment, good for a chuckle, practicing her potion-making (which she was just okay at, but that was fine with her,) happy to be who. she. was. Except for two people, both wonderful but uncomfortably pushy. First: her Quidditch captain. Lucinda had joined up because she thought it would be a fun way to pass some time, and she wound up as captain by the end of her career. All because she’d made a few quick adjustments when the chips were down. It had been a struggle for her, but dear old captain had convinced her that Just Being Lucinda was enough. Captaining a Quidditch team wasn’t as “too much” as it seemed, and the responsibilities were fewer than she thought. But, the idea of going any further than that was just completely out of the question. That adventure was plenty for her, and she was content with what she’d accomplished. Gave her something to do besides training with Uncle Maxim for when she’d inevitably go to work at (the aptly named) Maxim’s, her uncle’s long-standing apothecary, focused on “beautifying” potions. Not exactly her cup of tea, but it was a guaranteed job out of Hogwarts. But, beyond her tenacious Quidditch captain, the last pushy individual in her life was her fifth year Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher (buggers never seemed to last very long.) They were beginning their study of dueling spells and techniques, and Lucinda was visibly uncomfortable. Defense Against the Dark Arts had always been her least favorite class. It just felt very unnecessary to focus on all this doom and gloom and darkness. It’s not like Reginald Wishwell was going to burst in and attack them for crashing his party. It’s all pretty nonsensical. But, all thoughts if nonsense went out of her head when she first flicked her wand and watched her target crumble before her. From somewhere deep inside she felt something stir, almost like a want, or, more troubling, like a need. Some stray passing thought vaguely pondered if it might be that “oomph” she’d been looking for. And, when she looked down the line of targets, she saw hers was the only one so shattered. Her professor couldn’t help but whoop out a “Good show, Talkalot!” while the thrill in Lucinda’s gut gave way to a sort of pain. The same sort of distant pain she’d felt when dear old captain had handed her the reins for the Slytherin team. It went on like this for the next few weeks. They’d learn a new skill and Lucinda stood out while her insides vanished. She’d have a good-hearted laugh with her classmates afterwards, ever the joker, ever the obfuscator. It was all so silly. As if they’d ever use any if this. Then, came dueling day. Lucinda had been dreading it. They were paired up and professor gave the signal and off they went. Her opponent tumbled out of play after only one shot from her. One! She’d indicated what she was about to do as hard as she could, and yet they didn’t make one move to stop her! There were other opponents that were more difficult, but Lucinda couldn’t seem to turn it off, though part of her wanted to. It went from pairs vs pairs to the class vs Lucinda. Professor’s allegiance became embarrassingly apparent, as she couldn’t help but smile enthusiastically whenever Lucinda was crowned victorious. By the end of class, no one had beaten her. She was just too quick. And, all of them had been so easy to spot, their wand movements so languid and apparent, how could she not have guessed which spell was coming? It wasn’t a big deal. She was Just Being Lucinda. When she went to pack her things and meet up with her friends for their usual session to take the mick out of the class, professor stopped her, that enthusiastic grin still plastered on her face. “Have you ever considered joining the Dueling Club?” Lucinda nearly snorted, but managed to catch herself. She tried to imagine it, but the image was so hilarious she couldn’t picture it for long. A dueling club? Of course, she’d heard of it, but the idea of it was just as funny as the idea of her participating in it. What, was she going to be an auror or something? Ridiculous. Lucinda allowed herself a small, good-natured chuckle and politely declined. Thanks, but no thanks. But, she was persistent, and Lucinda had to dodge her until she was inevitably replaced. The rest of her career at Hogwarts was mercifully average, even considering her career as captain. Her potion-making was good enough to earn her that job at Maxim’s, and she was content, so long as she avoided her uncle’s attempts to talk politics with her. He had always been the alarmist of the family, and he didn’t need anyone feeding into his paranoia. But, Lucinda started to take notice of some strange orders coming into Maxim’s. She didn’t make the potions herself, just assisted her uncle and the other major potioneers, but there was something… off. She didn’t always recognize what they were for, though she wasn’t a particularly skilled potioneer. Not to mention, she found the general subject deathly boring and learned only the bare minimum required. Then, came the attack. It was as if everything until then in Lucinda’s life had been playing in monochrome and it all burst to sudden, grotesque, horrendous technicolor. The sharp definition of it all made her sick, and the illusion she’d never known she was spinning shattered. Suddenly, she was on the wrong side of the word “pointless." Everything would be different now. Except that she’d been right. Life wasn’t like a radio play.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

The Talkalot family is your average mixed-house heritage clan. Dad’s a Hufflepuff, Mum’s a Ravenclaw, and they were both shocked but thrilled to hear Luci had been sorted into Slytherin, just like Uncle Maxim! Most importantly, they found some peace hearing that Lucinda would be amongst Slytherins, hoping some of that aforementioned "oomph” would rub off on her. That she’d finally commit to something, for Merlin’s sake. But, Lucinda’s sorting into Slytherin solidified her choice to follow in her uncle’s path, which was somewhat disappointing to them. Well, at least she’d be taken care of. Uncle Maxim was a good role model, an exemplary business-oriented Slytherin, keeping his head to the grindstone. She’d be in good hands.

OCCUPATION:

Lucinda previously worked in her uncle’s shop as an assistant, but, obviously, that’s no longer possible. For now, she’s not thinking too far ahead and has decided to focus her time on the Order, telling her parents she’s found a new job.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

Lucinda’s decision to join up was almost done on autopilot: She’d barely believed she’d done it until it was already done. But, what else was there to do? She couldn’t just stare down the Dark Mark, the actual-bloody-Dark-Mark-holy-hell, and not do… something! When it came time to offer up her talents, her vibrato faltered. Just Being Lucinda probably wasn’t going to cut it in the Order but, without thinking, she offered up her talents as a potioneer’s assistant, while mentioning she’d played some Quidditch back in Hogwarts. Of course, the actual talents she’s scared of still linger under the surface, her quick thinking, level-head, and, of course, her raw, natural dueling skills. If she could be convinced that risking the fall is worth the leap, she’d finally be able to let herself enjoy being out on the frontlines where she belongs.

SURVIVAL:

The Talkalots, in general, are nobodies. No fortune to speak of, but not destitute, either. Both of Lucinda’s parents work as office clerks for the Ministry, and not even in the fanciful departments. So, Lucinda has been and still lives at home,, content to get started at life once she was good and ready. Uncle Maxim was the only one who’d apparently kicked up some sort of minor stir. Whether Lucinda will ultimately find his actions foolish or necessary is yet to be seen.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Lucinda was fairly popular amongst her housemates, but she was no superstar, either. She was well-known for her somewhat deadpan sense of humor, and was considered generally unoffensive as a person. The person she was most shocked to consider her friend was Emma Vanity. Yes, that Emma Vanity. Emma was definitely the most interesting to talk to out of the girls, since her life was something right out of Lucinda’s radio plays. She was most shocked to find out how accurate a lot of it was, all that bowing and kow-towing. Also, Lucinda never thought she’d personally know someone in an arranged marriage, and she definitely never thought she’d be 16 and faced with giving condolences to one of her friends for the death of her fiancee. There were rumblings about what caused it, but, in classic Lucinda fashion, she considered the implications far too extreme and cancelled them out. Calling someone the “d” word (Death Eater) without concrete evidence was a bit much, especially since their friend was going to marry him. But, ever so practical Lucinda would eventually become less chivalrous towards Emma. Listen. One month is one thing. Two is another. Three is when it starts to be a bit much. The other girls started whispering when Emma wasn’t around about how pathetic it all was becoming, and at first Lucinda disagreed, inside her own head, of course. But, after a while, Emma brought with her that same doom and gloom she encountered in Defense Against the Dark Arts. She was a constant reminder of all those things Lucinda found so foreign, and she couldn’t help but turn a blind eye as Emma was slowly “uninvited” from the group. The mood lifted and the jokes were landing again, but Lucinda did occasionally feel a small twinge of guilt when she thought about it. Another on th list of unexpected acquaintances was Regulus Black. Again. Yes. THAT Regulus Black. She remembered walking into the Quidditch pitch for her first practice and seeing him, hanging around as though it was the most natural thing in the world. He wasn’t much like what most people thought of him. He wasn’t someone you’d call to liven up a party, but he also wasn’t unwelcoming. They actually shared plenty of conversations, though they never got particularly close. She’d heard about his love for Divination and knew it would be better to keep a safe distance. She’d rather not mess with that sort of stuff. Less she knows about that the better. His death was probably the biggest shock in her life before the attack. She’d never absolutely personally known a person that had died before. Antonin was one thing, but Regulus had been a full, three dimensional person in her daily life for a few years. It was surreal. Then, there was Daisy Hookum. Thankfully, they’d never been very close. She was a complete nuisance. Way too in-your-face and took things far too seriously all the time. Her thing with the muggles was just way too over the top. What was so interesting about them anyway? They're muggles. She was so pleased when she was gone, and it had only been one year. Nothing worse than a person who takes something like being a half-blood and turning it into their entire personality. Otherwise, her Uncle Maxim had really become her best friend since she’d started working with him.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS:

As with most people, I ship Lucinda with chemistry, but I get this feeling off of her that she might enjoy someone older, maybe quite a bit older. It would place her well out of her comfort zone (which needs to happen) and I happen to think they work very well when done right. But, ultimately, I’m for anything that feels appropriate, and would never actually try to break up any established ships. (Though I won’t promise Lucinda won’t crush on anyone she ultimately can’t have. Lol!)

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Lucinda, more than anything, has the privilege of doubt. She has room and time to waste doubting her own abilities, doubting other people’s perceptions, questioning their methods and her own until they’ve all talked themselves into a frenzy while claiming this simply makes her rational. She’s also allergic to bad news, even after her recent bout with some downright terrible news. She’d rather not know, though she might be more likely to brace herself and hear it. So long as you get it over with fast. Lol. All in all, Lucinda is what an inverted classical Slytherin personality would look like. Her “I don’t take anything seriously” persona was cultivated to protect herself from her own competitive perfectionist nature. To try is to risk failure or looking stupid, so better not to try. To believe anything is to risk being wrong and looking dumb, so doubt everything. There is a strange perfectionism in her cultivated “laidback” attitude, leading to her remaining “laidback” through two deaths and her friend getting put out because of one. Because, to care for even one moment could lead to, well, the mental state we’ll find Lucinda in after the attack. Frazzled, all nerves, shell-shocked. Regarding blood purity, if you’re wixen, you’re wixen. She has no opinions on the nitty gritty of who’s “worthiest” amongst wix. But, muggles are a bit of another story. If you asked her, she’d say she liked them, but that’s about as far as it goes. She tepidly “likes” them, but has little interest in them or their affairs. They’re just muggles. Whatever.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

I’m really excited to work through this plot as a collaborative piece! Having everyone all on the same side is a brilliant idea and helps with offering up parameters to encourage creativity.

PLOT DROP IDEAS (OPTIONAL): Other than a reason for Lucinda to pull out her wand and own it, nothing!

ANYTHING ELSE? Nope!

#homenumaccepted

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foxglove-and-fireflies · 4 years ago

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Schizophrenia

Schizophrenia is many things.

To me, it is terrifying, enormous and all consuming.

But Schizophrenia is frustrating most of all.

I was recently diagnosed with Schizophrenia after an 'episode'. It's the second 'episode' I've had, and this one hasn't gone away.

The first time was in December of 2015. Stress in my life had been building for a while, and I felt thrust into a life I wasn't prepared to deal with. I was not mature enough to handle my life, not nearly prepared enough to manage the stress I had.

I was 19. I got married just shy of three months prior. I planned a wedding, moved into a house I never asked for (after spending my wedding weekend repairing it), and I was a full time student. Prior to my wedding I was working part time as well, but I quit after I felt too overwhelmed.

But it was December, and I was out of classes until January. I tried my best to be a 'good wife'. Wake up first, wish him well as he left for work, do laundry, make a lunch for him to take to work the next day, do the shopping, pay the bills, clean up after his aging dog, tidy up, welcome him home, cook dinner, mow the yard...

I did my best. I failed often. Many days I couldn't do everything, and some days I felt powerless to do anything. I went to my mother for advice and asked her "How do you be a good wife? I feel like I'm not enough. Should I get a job?"

My mother advised me that I should make it my job to be a good housewife and take care of all of the things I mentioned before, and that Bret was too good to me. She boasted about how good I had it, how good my husband was, and how I should be grateful for what I had been given. She felt I was ungrateful for my home, that I wasn't taking good enough care of it.

I left feeling more guilty about my failures and less clear about what to do next. I went to her unsure, hoping for encouragement and guidance, but I only felt more guilt.

The stress I felt got worse. The more stressed I felt, the harder it was to accomplish anything. The pile of dirty dishes felt like a monumental task. The laundry felt endless, like I could never catch up. I would lie in bed, so anxious about not having the energy to fix my problems that I stopped sleeping. I stopped eating.

I stayed awake for almost four days, and ate maybe twice in that time. I knew I was depressed, but I didn't know how to reach out for help. It's not like Bret would have reacted badly; he was always supportive of me. All the same, I couldn't.

Thoughts of suicide began to creep in. What if? I wonder what people would think. What nice lies they would say about me at my funeral, and what terrible things they would say in private. How would they judge Bret? He'd be the young widower to the crazy woman.

These thoughts became intrusive. Slowly I realized this voice narrating the thoughts in my head was not mine. I don't know how long this persisted before I realized, but when I did, I was terrified.

I had no idea what to do about it. Should I keep it a secret?

I became distant, in a sense. Like I wasn't really there, like it wasn't really me in my body. I felt very far away, detached from reality. I lay laid on the couch one night, the voice inside my head terrorizing me. Taunting me.

"He knows," she insisted. "He knows I'm in your mind."

The voice echoed inside my head; It came from inside my right eye. I thought about gouging it out to silence her.

Bret must have noticed my distress, as he came to comfort me. He reached out to brush a hair from in front of my face, reaching right towards my right eye.

I slapped his hand. "He knows." the voice echoed again. I was shaken. I wanted to throw up. Bret didn't know what to do to help me either.

I can't remember how many days passed after that, or even if it was the same night. Bret had gone to sleep, and even though I couldn't, I joined him in bed to be a good wife.

"He likes me more." The voice taunted me. "You're weak, you know. He's going to help me."

I got up to wash my face. I stared at the person in the mirror, hoping to see something in my eyes.

"I'm going to steal your body. He's going to help me because he doesn't love you anymore. He likes me better; everyone will. Don't worry, no one will miss you. Everyone will like me better. So why don't you just disappear already?"

It was my voice, but stolen from me. My thoughts no longer mine.

I closed my eyes. "No, I don't want to die. You can't steal my body. I don't want to disappear! You can't take my body from me!"

I searched for a shaving razor. I could dig my eye out. I could get a blade and silence the voice, even if it meant dying. I had to silence it.

Then I realized something that changed my life.

I had a choice. I had one very important choice. Two options only. I could either kill myself right now in this bathroom, or I could get help.

I was so scared. Crying, hyperventilating, unable to see straight, collapsed on the floor, I was so tired. I had to die, or I had to walk through that door and tell Bret what was happening and ask for his help.

The voice was so loud. I struggled to think. I made my choice.

I stood up, I opened the door, and I screamed the only thing I could think of.

"Bret, help me! I don't want to die!"

I had made my choice. It was a bad night. I don't remember much afterwards. He went to the doctor with me, and I got on anti-psychotics. I was embarrassed and ashamed. The doctor gave my prescription to him, and told him to hide my pills. She told him to give me one every night, but not let me know where they were.

I was just a crazy person who wasn't to be trusted with anything. I felt awful.

But things got better after that. I started therapy, and I was scared of my 'diagnosis'. Schizophrenia? Clinically Insane? What would the Psychologist tell me I was?

Depressed. I was depressed, and stressed. I also had an underlying thyroid problem, which can make you hallucinate. I got on antidepressants and adjusted the dose. I worked through some things and built some coping strategies with my therapist.

I was doing so well. I was proud of my progress. I got a job working at a place I loved. I was becoming an independent person with friends and things I did without Bret. I faced fears, I tried new things, I had fun. He was happy for me and I was growing and maturing. Life was so good! Five years passed since I made my choice, and I was so glad I made it.

It only took one day for it to fall apart.

Or... maybe it was longer than a day. I can't remember anymore. Why can't I remember? It was less than two months ago. Or three? I can't remember, and I'm frustrated by it.

I wasn't particularly stressed. I mean, work is hard sometimes, and I'm always worried about something. I've been dealing with anxiety for years, but it was managed by medication, and I no longer needed therapy. I wasn't worried about anything in particular.

Until I was. Suddenly I was afraid. The suddenness of my paranoia also scared me. What was happening? Why did I feel this way? Why did it feel like a leech on my mind? I had no idea, and that only made things worse.

I began to lock all the doors in the house all the time. I would be stricken with the need to check all the rooms in my house because something was telling me to. I was scared of what I would find. I would open the door to the upstairs bedroom and peer into the darkness, waiting for shadows to move. Waiting for the movement to tell me someone was hiding in there. When there was no movement, I flipped on the light.

Nothing there, but my mind was not satisfied. No, I turned the light off again, waiting for them to appear in the dark.

Flick off. Wait. Flick on. Flick off. Wait. Flick on. Flick off. Wait.

Over and over, until I was at least somewhat convinced it was empty. Then I would move to the next room and do it again. I did this for every room in the house, and the closets, too. I knew this was tedious and pointless, but I couldn't help it. I had to.

After I had checked through the whole house, I would hide behind the curtains and watch the world outside. I waited again for movement, for something to validate my fears. I knew there was something out there, and when there was nothing, I grew frustrated.

Sometimes there was something. A figure, taller than my fence, staring at me. I could see it, but distorted. It was there and at the same time, it wasn't. Still, I stared at it, and it stared back at me. All the while I felt a sort of pressure in my mind. This wasn't right and I could feel it. Something was wrong with my brain, but I was helpless to stop it. Frustratingly helpless.

After a while, my husband asked me to come to bed. I tore my eyes away from the figure and went to bed. I locked my dog in the room with us that night.

I woke up for work the next day, and I was paralyzed with fear. I couldn't leave the house, and wasn't really sure why. I called in sick.

So I talk to my doctor. She is very kind and understanding, and prescribes me Seroquel again. An anti-psychotic.

Now, before I go on; I am not a doctor. I have looked this up out of curiosity, but I am not a doctor. This is my understanding of how this works, but have I clarified how much of a doctor I am? Because its 0%. Do not take my advice.

Seroquel works by blocking dopamine receptors in the brain, preventing excessive amounts of it which can cause hallucinations and psychosis. Dopamine is a type of neurotransmitter. Your nervous system uses it to send messages between nerve cells. Dopamine helps you feel pleasure, think, plan, focus, and find things interesting.

Seroquel has side effects. For me, it made me exhausted. All the time, with no letup. I was sleeping 20 hours a day. I lost so much time, and I felt like I was disappointing those who depended on me.

My husband, my work, my pets. Here again is the recurring theme of frustration.

Maybe you think I'm just being lazy; I should set an alarm and throw my feet on the floor and hop out of bed.

I wish I could, but I felt prisoner to the bed. I would be awake, and as I felt my medication begin to work, I would begin to feel a little drowsy. A few minutes of that, then I'd get a little dizzy, but I'd be okay. I'd keep working, or reading, or whatever. Suddenly it would wash over me, almost painful.

My eyes would blur, refusing to focus on anything. My stomach would tighten, pulling my head towards the desk. I could feel my temperature falling and my breathing slow. If I fought it, I grew nauseated.

It's like my body was in control of my brain; it was demanding I go to sleep. My brain would stop responding, and all I could think was "go to bed before you fall asleep right now." I was a hostage to the demands of the medicine.

So I would crawl into bed and sleep for hours. I'd wake up to my alarm; 12pm: time to take your next dose of Seroquel. Still groggy from the last dose, I'd put it off for an hour or two; I needed to eat, shower, and be alive for at least a little bit.

But I wasn't working. During this pandemic, I've been working from home. With my medication like this, I couldn't work. I was struggling to stay awake for 4 hours a day and I felt guilty about not spending those hours working.

When I am awake, I feel shielded in a way. I feel like something is protecting me from delusions, like I'm on the edge of a cliff with a rope holding me back from falling. I feel slower, like my brain just can't manage to access information that I know I have.

How old am I? Um…. … 23. No, 24? Yeah, 24. I think. I should know this.

The information is there, so why can't I recall it? Thinking becomes exhausting, trying to force myself to remember things and think through basic ideas. It feels like walking through mud.

So I started skipping doses. Yes, I know, mistake, mistake…

But I was doing okay! I was getting some work done, only sleeping half the day instead of the full day. I was feeling okay, too. Thinking a little easier. I was okay!

Until I wasn't.

I walk upstairs to take my meds (after having skipped a couple doses) and suddenly I don't know where I am.

Has the kitchen always looked like that? No, I don't recognize it at all. Why did I come up here again? Where did I come from to get here? Where was I? Where am I?

It was so fast. Panic set in in a minute or two, and I was so confused. Why was this happening? That dog… looks like mine. Sort of. Cheddar, is that you? No, that's not her!

"Bret..!" I call out, hoping he can hear me from wherever I am. "Help me!"

He replies "I'm in the bathroom." but I don't hear him. I don't hear him, so I'm convinced he isn't there.

I'm not in my house anymore and now I'm alone. Panic. What is going on?! So I begin to talk.

"No, no, no non ononono no nO NO!" I muttered to myself in disbelief.

I couldn't understand why this was happening. I begin to hyperventilate. I can't breathe. Is there air?

I'm suffocating.

I begin to scream, unable to contain the fear any longer. My cat walks up to me and I recoil, scared by the unfamiliar creature.

It takes me a bit to even realize that I'm screaming, and when I do, it only fills me with more fear. "The neighbors will hear me if I keep screaming, and they'll call the cops." I think. Maybe I said it out loud, I'm not sure.

"The cops will show up to see me screaming. They'll lock me up. They'll put me in mandatory psych! They'll kidnap me! I can't go! I'm scared to leave!"

My thoughts keep spiraling to worse and worse scenarios, so I force myself to stop screaming, returning to the muttering. "Quiet, quiet, quiet… you have… to stay quiet… or they'll come…." I mutter between heaving sobs.

I don't remember when, but I threw some things in my panic. My feet dug grooves into the carpet as they tried to push me farther and farther against the wall.

I look to my left and see a man standing there. When did he get there? Did he just say something to me? I thought I was alone in this strange place. Who is he? I push myself into a corner. Wait, that stranger looks like Bret, but why is he here?

I don't remember much else. Did I lash out at him, or simply pull away? I remember both, but also neither. He brings me to bed, checks all the rooms in the house for me, and gets me my medication. He brings my dog and helps me realize its her.

I am forever grateful for him. He is kind and patient, helping me as best he can. The next morning I am still shaken, the feeling still there, but milder. I call my med provider and change to Seroquel XR, which makes me less drowsy. I'm still working on getting used to it, and trying to find a schedule that works with it. I can't not take it.

So I log into work and hop on Zoom. Should I pretend I'm ok? Should I be honest and tell them how scary the world outside my bedroom is? My coworkers greet me with the normal "Morning! How are you?"

I'm not sure how to reply. I go between a generic "I'm ok, you?" and being a little more truthful "I'm not doing well."

Either way, I don't feel like myself. My brain feels like mud, and with the perpetual fear of the pandemic going on, It feels pointless to even be here. What does advertising matter? We don't even have product to sell right now, we're sold out. So why am I here?

But I push that aside, my mind too muddied to work through that. I float through the day, often sleeping through much of it.

But what other choice do I have?

I'm so frustrated.

#mental health #schizophrenic disorder #schizophrenia #experience

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harleyquilt · 5 years ago

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A Chance Encounter

Summary: What if it was Touka who fought Haise, instead of Nishiki? How will Haise be able to face the reality that was once his past? (Requested by anon) Words: 3794

Notes: A short fic based on a canon divergent, touken prompt from an anon ask. I hope you enjoy it.

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She stood, high up on a lone lamppost with a white Rabbit mask covering her face. An ukaku burst forth from her back with a vibrant mix of colours that continuously shifted and changed. It was, for Haise, like an enraged, fiery flame. She had leaped towards Haise, her kagune slicing through his side before he could react. It wasn’t fatal, but it was enough to knock him down and she darted away before he was able to stand back up. Haise held up his quinque, his hands trembling. There was something about her that struck him as odd. No, odd wasn’t the word - it was more like an uncomfortable thought that rattled in his mind. A scratching at the back of his head that persisted throughout their battle. He knew his one priority was to protect his squad, yet he was constantly left baffled and startled whenever the Rabbit ghoul came near.

She was indeed fast, as fast as she was skilled. Haise knew there was a Rabbit ghoul in Aogiri, so perhaps that was the reasoning for the vague sense of familiarity he felt. And yet, she seemed different. Her attacks were more careful, less complex even. Whenever he attacked, she’d simply dodge. She struck him multiple times and out of desperation, Haise ended up releasing his own kagune, despite the paranoia and fear that often held him back.

After Haise took this risk, the fight only grew more intense. Her stamina was higher than most ukakus, so she was clearly more talented than that of regular ghouls. She sent a flurry of attacks at the tendrils he sent with his rinkaku and when he neared, she simply leaned and leapt away from the swipes of his quinque. All the while, she spoke not a word, silently taunting him with this continued battle.

However, she eventually grew tired and she stumbled back after a final dodge. Taking this opportunity, he raised yukimura with the intention of finally putting her out of commission. It was then, however, that his past self’s voice started to intrude and he forced himself into Haise’s thoughts. With a sharp, coarse whisper, he hesitated.

Don’t.

With this brief pause, the ghoul turned to run, but Haise regained control and swiped down, the blade cutting through her back. She fell forward and she skidded across the ground, her mask dropping a small distance away. He pinned her down, breathing heavily. His limbs were now shaking, from both tiredness and fear. His words grew louder in Haise’s mind and there was some urgency and desperation in his actions when he turned her to face him.

He gasped, his eyes widened and his body was still. He found himself uttering a name, a name he wasn’t sure of. It slipped out, almost subconsciously, and he watched, with tears in his eyes, at the beautifully despaired smile the Rabbit ghoul offered.

“I’m sorry, Kaneki.” Her voice was soft and it twisted his heart to hear it, like a knife being plunged into his chest. She reached up for a moment - perhaps to wipe away the tears that were rolling down his cheeks - before she pulled her hand back.

Haise took a step back, his head bowed and his hand violently grabbed his head. His breathing grew heavy as a heavy weight pressed against his mind. Who was she? What was the name he had just spoken? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure and it pained him all the more. The mess of his own thoughts started to consume him and he cried out, the figure before him blurring. The world turned red and nothing seemed clear anymore. And all the while, a deep throbbing pulsated from his back, a sharp sensation coursing through his body. He raised his head and-

And that was it. He was put down by Take’s squad and Akira and spent the rest of the day recovering. It had been a few days now since that event and still, he was left just as shaken as he was during that moment. Her face, that expression - it all seemed like a faint memory now, but he was eager, no desperate, to remember it again. Her name was something he couldn’t recall, no matter how much he tried. If he asked the others, they’d simply suspect his relationship with the ghoul. Perhaps it was something that should be suspected. After all, she mentioned a name that triggered the turmoil he faced afterwards. It was agony to his ears hearing such a forgotten name. It wouldn’t be unwise to guess that Kaneki was the name of his past self, even if he was Haise now.

And if that was the case, then that would therefore suggest that this ghoul had known him in his past life. It would explain the nostalgia that overwhelmed him during their fight. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. In truth, he dreamt of meeting her again each and every night since. Perhaps it was Kaneki’s own thoughts being projected, considering how in these dreams, he saw a slightly different version of this Rabbit ghoul. She was younger, her hair was darker and she was dressed in a high school uniform. And her smile - it was her smile that left him yearning for her. It was as if Haise was staring at a photograph, unable to make out what any of it was supposed to be, whilst still being drawn to the pictures he saw. He wanted to reach out and…

He tried his hardest to rid himself of these thoughts. Considering the circumstances, he had no time to think about a past that wasn’t his own to claim. He had other people, people he knew and loved, to cater for. Even thinking such thoughts sent a backlash of resistance, but he refused to give in. Not again. He needed to learn to forget and move on, for the sake of others if not himself.

Before attending a meeting with the other investigators, he decided that it was best to relax himself by taking his underlings to a new cafe. It was a hobby of his and he hoped it would be enough to take his mind off these growing concerns. Mutsuki and Shirazu followed behind him as he wandered down the streets of Tokyo. It was an area he hadn’t visited before and already he was intrigued by the new aroma of coffee that wavered nearby. If there was one thing that didn’t bring him shame in being a ghoul, it was the fact that he was able to detect these more subtle, delicious smells. It would seem that this one in particular caught his interest.

It was almost too difficult to describe, but the fragrance almost soothed him, both mind and spirit. After all the turmoil he faced recently, he couldn’t deny that he was enthusiastic to find the source of wherever this scent originated from. What he found was a cafe called Re:. It was like any other cafe, really, but entering the shop was in itself a relaxing experience. It might've been the warm lighting, or the tranquil silence that allowed for an escape from the busy streets outside. Whatever it was, it felt like home, as strange as that may be.

They stood for a moment, waiting to be served, but the only employee, a man with a goatee and grey hair, stood still behind the counter. His eyes were wide, as if he were staring at three ghosts, and Haise and the others waited awkwardly, unsure whether to approach him or not. From a distance came a voice and Haise was hit with an abrupt force. It was the same sensation he had experienced a few days ago with the Rabbit ghoul.

A woman, a waitress, appeared from a doorway. She was complaining to the other employee, but her voice seemed muffled as Haise caught sight of her face. It was her. Her voice, her bright eyes - he was certain of it. His heart began to throb, pounding loudly against his ears. She seemed to notice too when she neared, her voice fading off into silence. They spent a moment silently staring at one another, both completely taken away by this new and sudden situation they found themselves in.

Shirazu and Mutsuki looked awkwardly between the two, confused as to the strange reactions the two had towards one another. “Hey, Sassan!” Shirazu waved his hand over Haise’s face and he shook his head. “You know each other or something?”

Haise remained silent, his stomach twisting and turning with the panicked thoughts that rushed through his head. “I thought she was someone I’ve seen before.” He raised a hand to his chin, laughing awkwardly. “Sorry. My bad.”

“No, it’s okay. I had the same thought, in fact.” Her voice was calm and whatever alarm she showed before was no longer apparent in her smiling expression. “May I take your order?”

After they said their orders, she took them to a spare table and Haise watched her back as she walked away to the counter. His hands clutched at his knees beneath the table, his nails digging into his skin. She was definitely the ghoul he saw the other day, the one he battled against. To think that he’d find her in a random cafe a few days later, working like any other waitress. He wanted to laugh at the tragedy of it all - what was he supposed to do? Ordinarily, you would act on this opportunity to expose and terminate her, yet such thoughts only added to the ongoing conflict in his thoughts.

The voice, Kaneki’s voice, continued to whisper, even now. Whoever this girl was, she was important to him and despite his role and position as Haise, he couldn’t help but indulge Kaneki’s protective desires. Whenever he looked at this woman’s face, he was overwhelmed by the urgent need to keep her safe. And still, she threatened both him and his squad with the power and skills that could possibly endanger more. In the end, there was no real reasoning in him protecting a woman he couldn’t even remember. Even so, she was clearly content in continuing this act they’re playing, so perhaps she too wanted to avoid conflict. That shouldn’t change the fact that she was a ghoul, though. It was all too fucked up.

His thoughts were interrupted with his coffee being placed in front of him. He looked up and his eyes met with hers. He was ashamed to think such thoughts, especially with the intense situation they were both in, but a part of him couldn’t deny the strong yearning he felt towards her. A part of him couldn’t help but admire the beauty in her slightly curled hair, her small smile and big, glistening eyes. Kaneki’s voice, the whisper that always remained at the back of his mind, turned soft. With the nostalgic fragrance of the coffee he held in his hands, Kaneki’s words became all the more clear.

“Touka-chan.”

Everyone was silent for a moment and Touka winced at the sound of her name. Haise’s eyes narrowed and he turned his head away, his hand rubbing his head. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that just now.” He laughed awkwardly once again, his laughter more strained and less subtle.

“So you do know her?” Shirazu asked, attempting to make the atmosphere a little less tense. “Man, to think you know such pretty women-”

“Ah, I’m sorry, but,” Touka bowed, a slight blush on her cheeks, “I’m afraid that’s not my name. You really must have me mistaken for someone else. I’m terribly sorry.”

Whilst Mustuki and Shirazu laughed it off, Haise playing along, he flinched at the lie she told and for some reason, tears threatened to fall from his eyes. Or perhaps it wasn’t a lie. He couldn’t be sure and all the while, Kaneki’s voice faded back into an eerie silence, as if he too was wounded by the words this woman had spoken. He raised the mug, trying hard to keep his hands steady, and he tasted the coffee.

The taste on its own was enough for the tears to finally fall. He blinked hard, apologising some more whilst wiping it away. Touka, if that was truly her name, offered a small handkerchief, hiding her own pain with a sympathetic smile. When she turned to leave them be, he was certain that he could see tears in her eyes too.

They left soon after, Shirazu teasing Haise on his strange reactions. He could only offer weak excuses to his behaviour; in truth, he wasn’t exactly sure how he could explain whatever it was he was going through. Not even Arima or Akira could help him at this point, not without harming Touka. The part of him that was still a CCG investigator knew that was the best outcome to all his issues, but he feared the overwhelming pain it’d bring him.

Was this his punishment, he wondered, for trying to reject the side of him that was once himself. Was he simply suffering the consequences of neglecting the voice that was once his own? It made sense that this would be the karma he’d have to face for playing house in someone else’s body. No, it was his body. He was Haise and regardless of anything else, that still remained. So why were these emotions and memories intruding his own thoughts and feelings.

At the very least, it was clear that he won’t be able to reach a conclusion to any of these thoughts, or rather, there was no conclusion to reach to begin with. Even so, Haise wanted, needed, some answers to clarify this tangle of thoughts he was facing. With Touka’s position and identity exposed, it surely won’t be long before she moves somewhere where Haise’s eyes can’t reach. If so, he’d have to meet with her again soon.

That evening, Haise went out with the excuse that he was going to buy some more coffee. On the journey towards the cafe, he attempted to calm himself down with a list of excuses for why he was doing all this. He was going there to make sure that she was the Rabbit ghoul. He was going there to check what her name was. He was going there so he can rest easy tonight. He was going there for some coffee. Deep down, however, he knew what he really wanted to do was to meet her, to talk to her without the prying eyes and ears of others. He wanted to believe that these were his own actions and thoughts alone, though he knew Kaneki’s voice had more influence than he cared to admit.

The blue sky faded into a pastel pink, a tint of orange peeking out through the gaps of the city’s skyscrapers and buildings. As it gradually turned into a darker shade of purple and gold, he was reminded of the hypnotic sight of her kagune. It was as beautiful as it was fearsome.

Just like her.

He paused and looked to his side to see Re:. Touka was walking around the cafe, wiping the tables and placing the chairs on top. There was a more stern look on her face - a troubled, irritated frown, her hair pinned back to reveal the side of her face that was hidden before. When she looked up, she caught sight of Haise. Unsure on what to do and with his heart racing, he raised his hand to offer a small and pitiful wave. She seemed uncomfortable at first, her eyes darting to the ground and her lips pressed into a thin line, but she eventually moved to the door, walking outside to meet him.

Haise was about to say something, anything really, to excuse his presence, until she spoke up first. “Do you want to come inside? It’s getting cold and I can give you a coffee before I close the cafe.” She spoke her words a little too quickly, and there was a sharp undertone beneath her kind offer. Perhaps she was hoping for him to say no, but Haise nodded, somewhat dumbfounded. She stepped aside to allow him inside first and she followed behind, flipping the door sign before she moved behind the counter.

She already started making the coffee before Haise could make his order, though he suspected that she must have already known what his order was going to be. There was no smile this time, just a look of exhaustion, as if she was no longer willing to keep up the thinly veiled facade of a clueless, human waitress. To her, it must seem like that with Haise’s appearance, this was the end of the road. He, on the other hand, wasn’t entirely sure if that was the path he was willing to take.

“I guess you recognise me, then.” Her voice was calm once again, more melancholy if anything. “You even remembered my name. Touka Kirishima.” Haise watched silently as she poured his coffee into a cup, her movements steady and careful. Her eyes looked up and his cheeks grew warm. “But,” she handed him his coffee, “do you remember me?”

He looked down into his coffee, his lips pressed together. His eyes narrowed whilst staring at his warped reflection and Touka waited patiently for his response. “I…” He sighed. “I’m not Kaneki. I’m Haise Sasaki. Rank one investigator in the CCG. Saying that, I…”

A lump rose up in his throat and suddenly, speaking was all too difficult. He waited for her to respond, to attack him and make her escape, to scream and demand for him to return his body back to Kaneki. Instead, she waited and she made herself her own coffee, as if this were a simple conversation for her.

“Saying that, I was able to recognise you. I’m afraid I can’t remember you beyond your name, but there are times when I see images of us, together, years ago.” He rubbed the back of his head, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “I also remember you from a few days ago, when we battled together.”

She placed down the kettle and took a sip from her coffee, sighing with what sounded like satisfaction. “You really made it tough, you know.” She smirked and she leaned against the counter. “I really tried not to hurt you too badly, but you’re always too passionate when it comes to protecting others. I’m glad that you didn’t change in that regard.”

She spoke as if Haise were an old friend and in a sense, that was exactly what he was to her, or so he assumed. The way she talked so casually, as if her life wasn’t being threatened right now, relaxed him. All the confusion he faced up until this moment all seemed trivial now. He wanted this all to be trivial, to be a simple misunderstanding. He wanted to know her without the fear and conflict of his duties and past life.

“Haise, you don’t need to worry.” Touka placed a hand on top of his. “You don’t need to feel pressured to do anything. This was all my fault - I shouldn’t have gotten involved in your investigation to begin with. I didn’t intend to become involved in your new life, not at all, but I guess I messed up. I’m sorry-”

“No!” He took her hand and placed it between his, Haise not exactly sure which part of him was speaking now. “No matter what, I’m glad I got to see you. I want to know about you more.” The words tumbled out of his mouth, bit by bit, but he wanted to let it all out. It was too agonising at this point. “This has been really worrying to me and I’m still very much confused, but I don’t want to see this as one big mistake. Not anymore, at least.”

“I’m not Kaneki anymore, but a part of him is still within me. I can’t just forget you, Tou- Kirishima-san. And though it frightens me, I feel like I need to start accepting him. However, I can’t do that if I don’t know anything about him.” Touka stared, silent in response and Haise bowed his head, his voice now quiet and small. “Please, I don’t know why, but you’re important to him and I can’t help but want to know you better because of this.”

Touka pulled her hand back and she brought it to her chest. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes turned glazed with tears. She let out an exasperated laugh, wiping away her tears before they called fall, and she wavered in her step for a moment. Watching her, Haise felt a deep pressure in his chest, a sensation that left him restless in his seat.

“You don’t understand, Sasaki-san. I’m glad you don’t remember.” His eyes widened and then narrowed, confused. “Kaneki, he...What he went through wasn’t something worth remembering. Him repressing his own memories - to do such a thing, it must’ve been too much to bear. I wish I could’ve helped you more and I just keep thinking, why didn’t I just welcome you back on that stupid bridge?”

Haise watched her image flicker from a cafe waitress to a high school girl, with longer hair and a pained frown. It wasn’t too different to how she was now.

“Seeing you with new family, new friends and people to rely on, was relieving to me. I really am glad, even if it hurts.”

“I don’t understand, Kirishima-san. Don’t you want Kaneki back?”

“Of course I do. After all, I…” She bit her lip and straightened. “This is all so strange. You sound and act like him and yet, I cannot call you by the same name.” Haise wanted to say something, to perhaps tell her that he was still the same, but of course, that wasn’t the case. “Sasaki-san, I’m really glad we had this talk, but I must ask you that we never bring this up again.” She turned to leave and Haise reached out for her, almost pleading her name. “You should finish the coffee before it gets cold.”

She disappeared around the corner, leaving him alone in an empty cafe. He, too, felt incredibly empty. He wondered if visiting her answered any of his questions and in a way, it provided him all the knowledge he needed. All the while, he only felt more astray, as if he only lost something from this exchange.

I just wanted to talk to her. Just for a bit longer.

Haise took a sip of his coffee. It was bitter. It was delicious. It wasn’t a taste he could recognise anymore.

#tousaki #touken #kanetou #my writing #fanfic #angst #kinda #kaneki ken #sasaki haise #touka kirishima

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