#get ready for talking about survivors guilt!

[capswarmedals]

Reading back on my Cap analysis/deep dive is making wanting to do another more in depth one not just focusing on his homosexuality and neurodivergency.

Since my last one got accidentally posted and I lost ALL of what I had saved (oopsie in my hand department), I'll have to re do it all again.

Get ready for another Deep Dive on our dearest beloved old man.

[medusaesque]

Kim Kitsuragi and the pale-

Kim has a unique relationship to the pale, I tried dissecting it and making sense of it. Reposting with more thoughts after some good conversations with @binomech.

Warning- it's insanely long.

1. After life, death

One of the first thing you can learn about Kim is that he would hurl himself in death's way to save you. From the very first moment, Kim is related to sacrifice and death, it follows him wherever he goes-

The slaughterhouse.

He lost his parents at two years old. He worked a year in Processing (here's good post about that by @renmorris and @spilledkaleidoscope). He lost his partner, Eyes. People have taken a bullet that was meant for his more than once. His survivor's guilt is insane. He's killed six people. He's afraid of killing recklessly, and has a deeply unhealthy relationship with his gun (made another embarrassingly long post about that).

Kim also hears pale 'ghosts' on the police radio all the time, talks about it like it's normal, and says he doesn't believe in ghosts.

If harry is with Noid during the Moralist dream quest (more on it later), Harry can even wonder if Kim himself is a ghost, prompting this beautiful exchange-

And he's not entirely wrong. When Harry gets shot, after Kim fulfills Espirit's promise and stands in death's way for him, you can ask as you fall into darkness what will happen to you-

It's the living who are ghosts. You can leave them behind and rest. Go into the wild pale yonder, along with everyone else Kim has ever cared about. Or at least you can try to.

When death is at the door, you have two options-

2. After death, life again

Kim might associate himself with death, but Harry associates him with life again and again- Death is darkness, Kim has a light bulb halo. Death is a sunset, Kim is a sunrise. Death is where you are when the game start, it's ready to take you, and then- a clarion call, the sound of a motor carriage, a detective arriving on the scene, and you open your eyes.

Of course Kim is no actual saint, no guardian angel, but it's really telling that even in harry's deification the symbols of Kim's holiness are worldly, almost mundane, the matters of every day life- a celling's fan lightbulb, the engine of a car..

Or the way @binomech said it when discussing Kim's portrait: this is the only thing keeping you from the full brunt of the world in your mind #but truly you are already in the world #and he is just a man #and that's just a car and that's just a ceiling fan

The game is very clear about Harry being a ceaseless agent of the world, but he's not the only one. Harry stands at death's door twice, and Kim is his way back to the world both times.

3. After the world, the pale

So what is Kim's relationship with the pale?

As casual as he might try to appear, Kim is clearly uncomfortable with the pale, afraid of it even. When Harry brings up the pale, he intervenes, genuinely worried for the fragile stability of his mind, trying to protect him-

It's no more terrifying than water or death or that we're stuck behind our eyes for all eternity?? Sounds pretty terrifying Kim...

I think the key is in the moralist vision quest, When Harry attempts to reach the Committee of Responsibility, and he hears the pale crosstalk coming through the radio, when suddenly-

"Pale is a shroud of memories and it doesn't really distinguish to whom those memories belong to. You could hear anything." You could hear anything, but you hear Kim. Soona even says that the odds of us hearing him, out of all the voices in the pale, are astronomically low.

We know the past has not been harmless to Kim, we know it's full of ghosts and cold winters, but that's not the thing that's eating at him-

Kim is afraid of forgetting. He's constantly writing, he thinks through his notebook, always recording, so he wouldn't lose anything. That's why the pale is so terrifying to him.

4. After the pale. the world again

The world is what it is. God is in his heaven. Everything is normal on Earth.

That leads me to the expeditions through the pale-

Volta do Mar is a skill unique to Kim, according to the stats of this pilot jackets, and it's a Physique skill.

It's driving me crazy to think how Kim wanted to be revolutionary pilot as a kid, and is walking around dressed like a pilot as an adult, to give himself the ability to navigate the pale. To return from the sea-

DISTANT ENEMY OF HIMSELF?? kim....

Seeing how Volta do Mar is strengthened by his jackets, and the items' descriptions point out that most of the people who used to wear this jacket are long gone (alongside what they represented) and considering that the only real advance in pale transit is the speed with which an aerostatic craft can pierce it, is seems fitting that returning from the 'sea' requires the kind of armor that ghosts wear- the ghost of who you wanted to be but never could, of a home that was never yours. Glory to them.

@binomech said it best in this conversation we had about Kim's skills: "your traitorous race. your traitorous job. your traitorous parents. your traitorous senses. distant enemy of yourself: seolite, communist, cripple, faggot. and you wear it as armor"

Kim is equipped for Volta do Mar, he armors himself for it every day, for the thing that makes it possible to return sane, and discover a new world-

This is one of the most touching Kim moments in the game to me- putting his hand in the rain, looking up to the sky, mouth open, welcoming the spring rain, even knowing it'll bring death and destruction with it. He is devoted to this world and the role he has to play in it, or at least the role he thinks he has to play-

But we know Kim has a bigger role to play, he's trying to do his part right there, getting Harry to stay-

His connection to Harry can keep him on this world once again- keeping the two of them together. Their real work is down here, him and Harry are Revachol's only hope. If they stick together they might be able to keep her on this earth.

UNITY AMONG THE RANKS IS PARAMOUNT.

I NEED YOU. YOU CAN KEEP ME ON THIS EARTH. BE VIGILANT.

I LOVE YOU.

[pjohoo-reclists]

hey I know this ask Is a little specific but are there any fics where Percy likes reveals his like struggling with guilt, and suicidal thoughts to people other than Annabeth? I love Percabeth I just really want to see other characters reacting to Percy's struggles! Thxxx!!!!

Hey Anon!! This wasn't too specific, don't worry. I read it and two fics immediately came to mind. One is a spot on match - Percy goes to therapy and talks about his guilt and suicidal thoughts/attempts. Took a little while to find a few more tho. Enjoy!

Percy Confides in Others Rec List

A list of fics where Percy confides in people other than Annabeth about his guilt and suicidal tendencies. Enjoy!

How you remind me. by youngjusticewriter

T | 700 words | Complete

Percy Jackson & Grover Underwood

Suicidal Thoughts, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Grover Underwood

(Look, he didn’t want to be a half-blood.) For a moment Percy felt the urge to ask Grover if he was ever going to be free. But he didn’t so the words stayed in his mouth and there they would rot like fruit left out for days in the summer heat. Percy opened his eyes. He stared at the bathtub. “...Grover, do you think I’ll graduate college?” Percy heard a sharp inhale. “Yeah, Percy. I do.” A noise escaped his throat. His vision grew blurry. “I agreed to go on a quest,” Percy said, finally admitting it to someone.

She’ll Rage For Him by aiden_salva00

T | 900 words | Complete

Percy Jackson/Clarisse La Rue, Silena Beauregard & Clarisse La Rue

Survivor Guilt, Percy Jackson is a Mess, Camp Half Blood

Clarisse La Rue knows rage. Percy Jackson knows loyalty. As the boy breaks, she summons rage to protect him like he has always protected them.

A Son's Prayer by AJDoesStuff (ApophisWrites)

T | 1.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Post Tartarus, Suicidal Thoughts, Good Parent Poseidon

Percy Jackson had been through hell and back, literally in his case, and he just wants someone to talk to where he won't be a burden. He prays to Poseidon, knowing his dad will most likely not bother listening to him, why would he want to listen to someone like Percy anyway. Poseidon listens anyway.

Similarities by HK44

G | 1.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Carter Kane

Short and Sweet, Carter is a good friend, Angst

“It’s different,” Percy cut in, pulling back, moving away, getting ready to leave. “They wouldn’t get it.” The words were firm, edged in steel, lined with barricades. He was falling back into himself again. Carter cursed everything and grabbed his arm. “Hey. What’s up?”

Dying is easy, living is harder by One_Real_Wrimonkey

T | 1.4k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Clarisse La Rue

Grief/Mourning, Percy Jackson & Clarisse La Rue Friendship, Clarisse La Rue has PTSD

She found him on a rock looking over the ocean, waves crashing below them, lit by a brilliant moon. It felt too pretty, given the state of the world, but he couldn't look away. Percy expected her to try and drag him back to camp, or maybe shove him off the cliff, but she only sat next to him. "Wanna talk about it?" . Three weeks after the war, Percy and Clarisse finally allow themselves to grieve.

and the ships are left to rust by Duck_Life

T | 1.8k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Jason Grace

Survivor Guilt, Bathing/Washing, Grief/Mourning

Jason goes looking for Percy after the final battle.

Rest Me And My Bones by Freddie_77

Not Rated | 1.9k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Clarisse La Rue, Clarisse La Rue & Will Solace, Percy Jackson & Will Solace

Grief/Mourning, Post Gaea & The Second Giant War, Trans Characters

“Hey,” Percy says, and it’s three AM, and Clarisse has finally got Ellis and Sherman to stop fucking fighting and go to bed, so why is he on the cabin doorstep, and really, how did he get around the landmines? Sure, all the counselors got to know cabin protections, but he hasn’t been at camp in… seven months? Eight? (Sure, Clarisse knows the exact date, deep down, a doomsday clock ticking away, your friend has been gone for this long and this long and this long– But she doesn’t need to admit that.) “The fuck do you want?” Her voice is gruffer than she means for it to. She loves him, deep down. (Very, very deep. You may need a gun pressed to her head to make the words come out. Doesn’t make it less true.) “Donuts,” he responds without pause, holding up one of the camp SUV’s keys. “I figured we could go out with Will. He’s waiting in the car already.” Or: post battle, Percy, Will, and Clarisse go out for donuts and talk for a while.

I'm going to make you wish you were dead by nlpiersee

T | 2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Aphrodite & Ares & Hades & Hephaestus & Hera & Persephone & Poseidon & Zeus (Percy Jackson)

Angst and Feels, Near Death Experiences, Family Drama

The council of the gods gathers expecting to smite a demi-god, only to have the tables turned on them. No one expected one hero to have gone through so much.

i'm a young man built to fall by bakedbean15

T | 2.1k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Paul Blofis & Percy Jackson

PTSD, Post the Second Titan War, Rachel Elizabeth Dare is a good friend

Percy has a flashback at school, Rachel and Paul help.

Just Because I Left Doesn’t Mean That I’m Not Still There by SiederTreeStudios

G | 2.7k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Post Tartarus, Post-Gaea & The Second Giant War, Protective Poseidon

Posideon couldn’t be there for his son when he needed him. But he could be there now. OR Posideon’s perspective on Percy’s adventures (mostly the Lightning Thief) and the aftermath of it all.

life doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints by Thatcrazyfan

T | 2.7k | Complete

Clarisse La Rue/Chris Rodriguez, Percy Jackson/Annabeth

Survivor Guilt, Hopeful Ending, Percy Jackson needs a hug

Chris noticed it before anyone else. He heard the whispers, saw the stares and was vividly reminded of the first few years after he had re-joined camp. The distrust in everyone’s eyes and in their actions and in the voices was something he would never, ever forget. Or, Something's wrong with Percy, and Chris is worried. Percy hasn't been his usual self in a long time.

Call Me by orphan_account

G | 2.8k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo

Attempted Suicide, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Trans Male Character

Percy and Nico made a promise on the River Styx, if either ever felt really depressed or like they might attempt suicide they have to call the other. Nico receives an Iris Message on a Tuesday.

the ghost of you by beforedaybreaks

G | 3.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Luke Castellan

Canonical Character Death, Survivor Guilt, Minor Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson

"Hello," the ghost of Luke says from its perch atop Percy's bedroom drawer. It tilts its head; grins, baring shiny white teeth. Luminous gold eyes bore deep into Percy's soul. Percy freezes. "You're not real,” he says, accusatory. Luke seems unphased by this development. In which Percy Jackson is haunted by the ghost of Luke Castellan, deals with unresolved feelings of guilt, and learns to say goodbye, all at the same time.

Percy's "Wonderful" Adventures in Therapy by Inlovewithsnow2002

T | 3.4k | Complete

Percy Jackson, Sally Jackson

Past Child Abuse, Percy finally gets Therapy, Suicidal Thoughts

After a series of unfortunate events Percy has landed himself in therapy.

You Can Kid The World, But Not Your Sister by HK44

T | 4.7k | Complete

Sadie Kane, Percy Jackson, Walt Stone

Panic Attacks, Monsters, Mental Health Issues

It was like the world had slowed between the seconds that it’s tongue lifted off of Felix’s hair and it’s entire body convulsing. It went so painfully still, a broken yelp echoing from it’s mouth. She saw the way it’s eyes bulged, Percy stepping in close. As though the parasite alien from Alien was breaking through, she could see the shift of muscle and bone underneath it’s thick mass of fur. And then the room was splattered in blood and yellow sand.

Apricity by TheProfoundSilence

T | 7.5k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Apollo

Kidnapping, BAMF Percy Jackson, Protective Poseidon

Percy gets kidnapped. He thought the pain was easy to deal with, but hell is just that, hell to live through. In the aftermath, a lonely infirmary, sheer willpower, and Percy Jackson attempts to rebuild himself back again with a little help from godly friends.

the light in the darkest depths of the sea (why can't i hold on?) by AchillesComeHome

Not Rated | 8.3k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson

Angst with a Bittersweet Ending, Good Parent Poseidon, Depressed Percy Jackson

He’s sinking down, and down and down. His throat burns from the seawater aggravating the soreness of it. The water carries him down, or maybe that’s him. He doesn’t know. He lets the sea take him. Maybe she’ll give him the peace he’s never truly had. Maybe she’ll let him rest for once. So he drifts, throat choking and burning with tears, eyes focused on the dimming light above him. Maybe this was his fate all along - to be swept away by the sea to a place even his father can’t find him. And maybe, he’s okay with that. Maybe he can sleep now. Or in which Percy Jackson has given up, but Poseidon has not.

Stars on the Water by liketolaugh

T | 116k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Thalia Grace, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Grover Underwood & Annabeth Chase

Percy Jackson has Self Esteen Issues, Percy Jackson Goes to Therapy, Abused Percy Jackson

"I dunno, I just think it would make a lot of things easier for a lot of people," Percy said to Thalia, when she just stared at him. His cheek rested in his hand, a rare pensive look leaving his eyes distant and unfocused. "Mom has Paul now, so it’ll be easier on her if she doesn’t have to worry about me mucking things up. Dad won’t have to keep threatening war every time Zeus gets his toga twisted. The prophecy’s done, so I won’t be bringing it down on Nico. And no one will have to worry about me blowing up another volcano."

Star Light, Star Bright by liketolaugh

T | 192k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Paul Blofis

Therapy 2: Electric Boogaloo, PTSD, Past Child Abuse

Subject: Percy's back Hello, Raine. I know that you're on leave right now, but you asked me to tell you as soon as we got further news on Percy. He's home. He's safe. But can you please get back to me as soon as possible? He's not doing well, and he's been asking for you. I hope that you've been resting well. With love, Sally

[givekennyabreak]

Irreplaceable. (Kenny Liu x gn!reader)

Summary: A cop arrived along with Tabitha, and she thinks she owns the place; you think it's time to teach her how to be humble.

Rating: T

Warnings: whole lotta cursing, canon-compliant violence, spoilers for S3E8 of From, survivor's guilt, mourning, Acosta slander, reader is jealous but for a good reason, mentions of blood, mentions of gun. Acosta is her own warning.

Word count: 2.15k

Tabitha was back.

She went through the tree, got into a lighthouse, went outside and wound up back in town. She was hurt - scared, you could see the way she looked around with wide eyes at every waking moment.

You talked to her once; it didn't go far, though, as Jim arrived a couple minutes after you finally got the poor woman alone, telling you whatever went on in their life wasn't any of your business.

You flipped him off.

"If you ever need to talk," you told Tabitha, eyes as gentle as possible. "I'm at the station."

Not only did Tabitha come back, she brought in Victor's father with her (by accident, she said. Of course.). Henry, he said his name was, was a gentle man through and through. You could see how much he cared about Victor - the way he tried his best to be patient and reconnect with his son.

He never berated the man, listened to whatever he said with the utmost patience and always tried to remain calm, although you're all only human - he panics a few times, too.

He went to the goddamn caves with Victor.

If that isn’t love, you don’t know what is.

Victor, your first friend in this hellspace; one of the four people you trusted with your life - the other three, obviously, were Boyd, Donna, and Kenny.

The man was a gentle, misunderstood soul. If anyone asked you who was the person who wanted to leave this place the most, out of everyone, Victor would be your answer. He was used to it, yes - but he didn't like the place.

He was tired.

You were tired.

That's why you tried to help him as much as possible.

(Victor told you how he tried to remember what happened with Christopher and the townspeople at the beginning, but it didn't work - he was going to see Sara.

"Does it have to be her? Do we have to do this?"

"Yes."

"Dude, c���mon. She-"

"I know. But it’s gonna get scary, and she’s the scariest person in town."

You blinked up at him. He blinked back.

You sighed.

"Fine. But I'm taking a knife with me.")

Yet, there was a third party who got in town with the two good parts; and, as all is never well in this place, the woman was an absolute menace.

Acosta was her name - surname? Who knows -, a policewoman who refused to change out of her uniform, going around asking people invasive shit and managing to piss you off more times than you can count by berating Boyd, of all people.

Her last stunt was to come up to the station as you were talking to the sheriff about the kinds of food you managed to find with the last group of people who went foraging, demanding him to give her gun back.

She did so without even acknowledging your presence, trading insults back and forth while you watched the scene, flabbergasted; Boyd, tired of her shit, actually gave it back to her without the ammunition (this is why you trusted him so much), and she walked out of the station, without as much as a glance towards you.

"Am I invisible?"

Boyd sighed. "To her? Most people are."

And then - there went your last straw.

Just as you arrived at the diner, ready to give your boyfriend a tight, much needed hug, you caught sight of a blonde ponytail and blue uniform.

"Oh, hell no."

You swung open the inner door, and walked up to the stools just as Kenny poured hot water into a mug.

"Yeah, they… they do that sometimes." He said, as the jukebox played by itself (again.).

Acosta looked at him - really looked at him. “Is that something else you get comfortable with?” A pause. “Look, thanks for the tea.”

He looked down at the mug. “Uh, you didn't even...”

She stood up, body almost colliding with yours. “Excuse me.”

And then, Kenny looked up, eyes locking with yours. He brightened up immediately - his smile widened, and he put the pot back in its place, just to beckon you over with his free hands.

"Good morning, my love." You said, ducking under the opening to the back of the counter. When you straightened up, your boyfriend was already by your side, arms wrapped around your shoulders, drinking in your presence.

The blonde turned around, now staring at you, with furrowed brows and a scowl on her face.

“Mornin’.” He swooped down, lips connecting with yours in a chaste kiss. A sigh left your body, arms encasing around his shoulders, and you heard a scoff sound from behind, followed by the door opening and closing.

You stayed there for a couple of minutes, in each other’s arms, just enjoying the peace and quiet – the rarest thing to happen when in town. You nosed at Kenny’s throat and he inhaled deeply, red creeping up the side of his neck.

“I missed you.” You whispered. He stayed silent for a few seconds, squeezing you tighter.

“You saw me last night.”

You could hear the smile in his voice; this is it, you thought. This is a good change.

Kenny was hurting.

Kenny was mourning.

But the town – the people, didn’t give him the time he needed to go through this, so the best thing you could do to not see him fade away was stay by his side and not let him wither.

(You missed Tian-Chen, too.

She treated you like her own. She loved you, and you loved her.

She told you to stay with Jade and Victor that night.

You shouldn’t have.)

“It’s a few hours too much, still.” You replied, grinning.

Kenny let go of the embrace first, in favor of throwing away the – now – cold tea. "You're veeeery cheesy."

"This is how you love me, anyways."

"Yeah." He sighed, leaning back onto the counter, arms open again. He didn't need to ask - you gladly embraced him, arms around his waist this time, as he leaned down and hid his face near your collarbone.

"I do."

You stayed there for God knows how long, fingers carding through Kenny's soft, thick hair; humming a song you knew he loved, whispering about how your mornings went, and the dreams you had.

You both had given up on the house after Tian-Chen passed away, and Jim permeated the place with his presence (although you knew he meant no harm, the place was suffocating). Kenny moved into colony house, while you stayed at the station with Boyd. Victor would have no qualms about you moving there with him, seeing as he had the safest room in that place, but Henry was there with him, and you didn't mean to intrude.

The both of you left the diner together, hand-in-hand, ready to face the day ahead.

Shortly after, Boyd assigned you with the task of helping him around - there were more people now, and he could use some help figuring shit out. Ellis was panicking - something happened with Fatima -, and the man wanted to help his kid, so you left to do some of his own chores.

Night came.

You slept in the "archive room", a little nook used to store boxes in the station; Boyd had helped you get a bed in there, and that was good enough. There was one little window on the upper side of the room, and, even though you kept it tightly shut (you nailed it, as a precaution), the whispers and giggles still seeped into the space and made it harder for you to sleep.

The sun rose with a golden hue. The orange glow shone through the clear glass, straight onto your face; with a groan, you rose up from the mattress, stretching as your body slowly woke up.

Another day where you got up, did your shit and hoped for the best - except this time, there wasn't even any hope to begin with.

"Tillie's dead." Boyd told you as you got to colony house, a few minutes after him. "We don't know who did it, but it wasn't a creature."

Ellis fidgeted beside his dad; it looked like he wanted to say something, but held himself back.

"You okay, Ellis?" You asked, with furrowed brows. "Is Fatima okay?"

Ellis inhaled sharply. Boyd glanced at him, and back at you.

"She's fine." The young man replied, nodding his head. "Aside from the nausea, and the, uh. The other stuff."

The ultrasound issue.

"Oh. Make sure she's safe, okay?" You said, nodding at the sheriff. "'m going in."

Boyd shook his head no.

"Wait here, please. Kenny and Acosta are inside, questioning the folks."

A burning feeling made its way up the back of your neck, up to your cheeks and forehead - although it was commonly associated with red, you knew what this was: green.

Jealousy.

Now, you wouldn't consider yourself a jealous person in any way, no; but the lingering glances, the manner in which she scoffed with no shame at your affection, how she thought she was the crispiest fucking fry of the batch?

Oh, fuck no.

Boyd and Ellis rushed away while you steeped in your own anger. Not long after, you heard two sets of footsteps walk out of the house, and there they actually were - your boyfriend, and the blue-uniform menace.

Kenny had a troubled look on his face while Acosta - what the fuck was her name, again? - yapped away with no regard to his feelings; obviously, no one would walk on eggshells here when it came to other people's feelings, but this was too much.

"Was what that guy said about Sara and your dad true?"

Enough is enough.

"It's not that simple."

You trailed off behind the duo, your own brows furrowed and fists tightly closed as you breathed in and out slowly.

Do not fight her. Do not throw fists. Do not. Refrain.

"Okay, you didn't think it was worth mentioning the girl that already murdered two people?"

"Look, it's just, uh, she's different now, and Boyd trusts her."

"Who gives a shit what Boyd thinks, okay?"

"Hey!"

They stopped at your shout, turning around. Turns out you were closer than it seemed; four steps were all it took for you to walk up to her stupid face and swing a fist straight to her jaw.

Kenny yelped, rushing to your side as Acosta doubled over, hand cradling her face; wild, blue eyes stared into your own as she straightened up, raising her own fists. Your boyfriend tried to step in, but you walked around, pushing him behind your own body.

"Come on, hit me." You said, ready for a blow. She hesitated, and then - you spoke up. "You're walking around like you own this place. As if you're mightier than anyone who has been stuck here."

Kenny moved, but you lifted up your hand, placing it on his chest. "Hun, please. Sit this one out."

Acosta scoffed. You faced her, seeing the way she looked between you and Kenny.

"Yeah, we met here. Yes, we fell in love here, we got together here. Yes, this has become our routine. Do you think we wanted to be here? You think we chose to stay?" Her eyes softened. "No, we don't. But we're trying our fucking best to stay alive and sane, because that way, we can think and figure out how to escape."

Your fists shook, angry tears threatening to fall.

"You have no idea what it feels like to witness the people we love wither away and get lured in by those fucks by night. So, at least, try to be a little more considerate of these people's feelings, won't you?"

Kenny took one of your closed fists in his own hand, slowly opening it and lacing your fingers together.

"That way, you might be able to actually help someone." You finished, staring at her bruising jaw. "Sorry I punched you."

Acosta swallowed deeply, glancing between yourself and Kenny.

"I never thought about that." She said, eyes finally settling on your own. "I understand. Apology accepted."

Kenny squeezed your hand, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"Well, that's better than nothing."

You held in a snort, bumping your shoulders together.

"Are you going to come with us?" She asked, tilting her head towards the forest.

You nodded your head. "Yeah. What did you guys find out?"

Just as she opened her mouth to answer, a shrill yell echoed through the place.

"Help!"

Ethan.

Everyone looked towards the boy, as Kenny rushed to ask him what happened.

Acosta looked at you, and nodded; the both of you ran, and you sure fucking hoped this was the beginning of a good teamwork.

[lastoneout]

Honestly, I don't say it often bcs I know how this site is but I really do think for a lot of survivors of abuse, especially abuse that went on for years and years, sometimes the message "it's not your fault, you didn't do anything wrong/to deserve this" while ABSOLUTELY TRUE* isn't actually super helpful. For a lot of us there's a LOT of guilt tied into it, and even if things were truly out of our hands we will not be able to accept that we are truly blameless, at least not at first, and maybe for some of us not ever. So being told "no dw you didn't do anything wrong <3 <3 you're innocent" feels...idk like some toxic positivity style lies. It doesn't make me feel better, because I still do feel like there were things that happened that were my fault, that were in my control, even an ethicist or god or whoever could look me dead in the eyes, weigh all the facts, and assure me of my complete innocence, and I still wouldn't believe it. (Tbh, you have to be ready to forgive yourself and trying to force it early does more harm than good.)

And I occasionally see movies and shows and stuff get roasted all to hell for having the audacity to go with a different message, to offer abused characters not a platitude about how they are innocent and should forgive themselves asap, but instead say "so what if it was your fault? so what if you fucked up? you're still alive, you still have time, your mistakes(or perceived mistakes) don't make you irredeemable scum who deserves to suffer, it's okay that you fucked up, what matters is what you do next, and even if the horrible thing was your fault in one way or another or you did actually hurt people, you still did NOT deserve to be hurt in turn" because people think that is like, admitting that the person in question is at fault when they almost always aren't....but as an actual survior, I'm sorry, you can tell me I'm innocent till the cows come home and I won't believe it. What I need to hear is that even if it was my fault I didn't deserve to be treated that way. I still deserve help. I deserve to keep going. I am not forever stained by my mistakes. I deserve a future free from this pain.

I think before we look at things in this like...grand moral way where we try to make sure we're sending the most Correct and Healthy Message Possible, sometimes it's worth asking if that message is actually the one the people it's about need to hear. I'm sure for some people it is very freeing to be told it's not their fault, but that kind of message does not resonate with me. And I, as well as people like me, deserve to expirience stories about us that are cathartic, that resonate, that make us feel seen, and to not have to see everyone and their mom throw a fit because what helps us is "problematic".

Anyway this has been mulling around in my head for a while and I def have a lot more to say about the way guilt manifests in trauma born of abuse, but yeah I just feel like this is something that should be talked about when we bring up abuse narratives and how well written they are and if they send the Correct Message, because the "Correct Message" is never going to be the same for everyone. And that's true of ANY demographic you could choose to represent!

Like some disabled people might enjoy the "magically healed" trope while others find it offensive. Some trans people like stories where transitioning is easy as drinking a potion or getting a fancy futuristic surgery and some find that that trivializes their struggles. Some queer people want stories where there's just no homophobia at all, others find that a world without it feels fake and patronizing. Some women do want to read stories about how keeping hearth and home is noble and empowering and others want read about women who have other jobs and never have kids or get married. For some of us "you're beautiful no matter what" is lovely and some of us just want to be told being fat and hairy and having acne and scars and shit is normal and fine. Or, like the last post I reblogged says, sometimes "you're not a burden" doesn't hit as well as "being a burden isn't a bad thing". No one type of representation is ever going to work for everyone, and that doesn't mean one type of rep is objectively wrong and the other is objectively right.

So yeah, the next time you find yourself angry because you think a story is sending the wrong message about a marginalized or harmed group, maybe stop for a second to ask yourself if it's actually harmful...or if you're not the person who the story is speaking to, and if there's someone it is talking to who desperately needs to hear what it has to say.

(*Getting ahead of this now: Do not put words in my mouth. I am not saying that any abused person in any way deserved their abuse or was at fault for it happening, that is not up for debate. The fault is always in the hands of the person who chose to hurt them. I'm just saying it's nuanced and complicated and guilt is a huge fucking issue that survivors have to deal with all the time and it's not wrong to acknowledge that some of us are always going to feel like we did something wrong and not be eased by being told otherwise even if the person saying it is 100% correct and/or means well. I do not have time for people who are going to willfully misinterpret me. You will be blocked.)

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 5

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

question for you: it that only a reflection from set lights, or did agatha have tears in her eyes?

because, well, this is agatha. she's putting on a show, so you know that she's not as confident as she wants to appear. I imagine that suddenly turning into a ghost is not an easy adjustment. super interesting from a nerdy scholary prospective, but psychologically?? idk

billy, as usual, has to beg her to PLEASE BE SERIOUS FR

I toOK A calCULateD RiSK

whatever you say you big loser

then she demonstrates being a ghost by trying to slap billy. it's scientific and not ridiculous at all

at long last, and very, very late in the game she explains the nature of the Road to billy - and notice how she's still not able to be completely honest, despite all the previous moments they shared. the song means the world to her, but she's not ready to admit that yet.

the Road was very very very much real, and all the deaths that happened do count

I'll die on the hill that billy is a good person at heart. the tower, the potential for tragedy and destruction, is just that, a potential that the people in his life - the kaplans, eddie, the coven and yes, even agatha - are helping keep unfulfilled.

agatha shakes her head, gently, carefully. and we can see there has been some growth here: the first time billy supposedly killed someone she went on a whole speech about how Killing Makes You a Survivor Actually, a speech that was more about her than him. she's at least considering his feelings now

and btw agatha's "death" not being final like the others' doesn't cheapen the message at all. these are shows about dealing with / accepting mortality, and that is a journey agatha has just started. she (somehow, crying and screaming and flying by the seat of her pants) cheated death and will get herself a new body, and that's just one step forward and two steps back on her way to learn to finally stop running.

remember when nicky was upset about killing witches and agatha avoided the subject by singing a song to him, because she didn't know how to relieve a child of the guilt that was hers and only hers? she is trying now. she sees how this is devastating billy and she (badly) tries to absolve him. she is the one who lured the coven into a trap, who didn't disclose the nature of the Road, who very much killed alice.

and mark my words: she knows who sharon is, she absolutely remembers her name. I think she feels the most guilty about killing sharon, because with alice it was kind of an accident, but she went out of her way to doom this poor little lady, and she's been distancing herself from her with callous jokes since the beginning.

look at her face. this is Empathy. I've talked a lot about how for agatha it's easier to feel empathy for people with similar stories and backgrounds to hers. she felt it for wanda and ran from it. billy has the added quality of being perfect son material (I'll get to that in a minute) and right now? she knows what he's going through. she was once a girl born with the power to kill people, a power she didn't know how to stop, and it ruined her life and doomed everyone who crossed her path.

and she's still trying to have her cake and eat it too! consoling billy while still keeping her "whatever I don't care anyway" fake vibes. I'd say that she's matured a little, sure! from toddler to at least first grader. she even dares to roll her eyes when mentioning jen, this actual piece of ghostly turd.

please please please let jen come back in a marvel property that doesn't suck / hopefully written by jac and her team. please please please let us see what she does next

"should I go check on how agatha and billy are doing? nope screw them bye bye losers omw to rebuild my empire!" *nyoooooom*

(I don't know what I'd like to see more, jen becoming a force for good right away or still on the road to recovery, clashing heads with agatha.)

agatha takes a deep breath (can ghosts actually breathe tho) and gives billy a speech reminiscent of what she told nicky all those years ago. if you want to survive, get used to this feeling. we are supposed to read this interaction with the added context of her relationship with her own son (hence the callback). so why does agatha gives billy the nicky treatment now?

I think billy is all that agatha hoped and wanted nicky to be - a partner in crime who can keep up with her intelligence and sense of humor, a powerful witch she can pass her knowledge to, and a son who will love her and stick by her side no matter what. billy is the whole package, from the very beginning she couldn't see him as just the carrier of the very power she needed to bring nicky back; another hunger took over, the hunger to claim him and raise him as her own.

which brings us to the crucial question: why does agatha want a son? why did she have nicky in the first place? the answer, in true agatha fashion, is selfish, flawed, tragic, human. she wanted to fix her own childhood. she wanted to raise a version of herself who had all the love and support of a mother. and so she made sure that nicky had what she never had, including books and lessons to learn magic from. she tried to make him immune to life's heartbreaks - get used to this feeling, like she never could (because she never managed to make her own heart impervious, she only hid it away and tried to ignore it.) she essentially imagined her child as a a mini-me who committed all the same atrocities with no guilt or remorse and the added bonus of a mother cheerleading them on. another cheat sheet, a way to fix herself without actually working on her issues.

except nicky wasn't exactly what she had expected. he didn't like killing witches. instead of a talent for magic, he showed a talent for music and, credit where credit's due, agatha encouraged and nurtured it. when nicky died, agatha was on her way to accept that he was his own wonderful person and that being a parent is an exercise in selflessness. despite all her mistakes, she did one fundamental thing right: she loved nicky so freaking much, and was genuinely loved in return. who knows what could have happened if they were allowed to continue on that path.

billy is also very much his own person (not to mention almost and adult) so he simply won't let agatha project her issues all over him. (agatha is like, "challenge accepted.")

her love for billy is not in question, but now she has to be selfless and admit he doesn't exactly need mentoring in serial killing. what did billy need from the Road after all? it wasn't power. it was a sense of identity, a community, help in finding himself and his brother. agatha knows this perfectly, she's just *gestures in her general direction* like that.

go to episode 9 part 6

[lilypadding]

👒 maraudersdenier Follow

sometimes to feel alive I rewatch danganronpa season 1 and 2

#idk it was peak series to me #they had the hope's peak arc going #season 3 was completely different

5 notes

🪴 soniasansflowers Follow

I can't believe the surviving casts of DR are just walking around now??? you survived a genuine killing game and now you're just waking up on tuesday and driving to starbucks to get a drink????? what???????? 

#danganronpa #scribby.txt

111 notes

🧚‍♀️ loserrrville Follow

sorry but I still think it's funny that dr2 was the only season where they revived the cast 💀

#and the only cast that deserved it was s15 but you guys aren't ready for that convo #sdr2 #dr15

42 notes

🧸 danganwrongpers Following

🎮 monokumasmilk Following

Do you guys ever think about how everyone in Danganronpa isn't even real...? We'll never know their actual backstory, especially not from their perspective. Their memories are always wiped and replaced with hijinks fabrications. And we've already talked about how everything is real to them because it's in their head, but it's not. Their memories are built on lies. nobody in this show is real. 

🧨 fdr38frontlines Follow

average danganronpa fan discovers acting

#the reblog is funny and everything but op is onto something #I've gotten so uncomfortable whenever I think about it for too long #yeah they're all consenting adults #and they signed up for it knowing what would happen #but...

23.8k notes

☁️ komaedasoup Following

remember when people got so weird about nagito and hajime hanging out (and being actual friends in interviews) that they stopped talking to each other just to avoid you freaks shipping them 😭

👤 despairinglyhopeful-deactivated

they probably stopped talking publicly not privately 👀

☁️ komaedasoup Following

THIS 💥 POST 💥 IS 💥 ABOUT💥 YOU 💥

#be NORMAL??!?!

547 notes

🍇 junkorenoshimer Follow

everyone's suddenly so obsessed with danganronpa not being "ethical" but how did you guys not realize this show is kinda fucked when that one interview with makoto came out and he literally says he got nightmares of the game and intense survivor's guilt. like the signs have always been there

🎮 monokumasmilk Following

Yet you never made a post about it until now did you?

3.1k notes

🔑 wannabekirigiri Following

KYOKO'S RED CARPET LOOK??!?!?! 😍😍😍😍😍 SOBBING AND CRYING ADN SKINNING MYSELF RUGHT NOW

#i am normal so normal so

2 notes

🎀 sdr2-supremacy Following

the things I would let hajime hinata do to me

🍡 hinatahajimeofficial Following

Okay let me run you over

🎀 sdr2-supremacy Following

HAJIME??????

#help I forgot he was real #DOES HE SCROLL THROUGH HIS OWN TAG??? 

52.9k notes

🔑 wannabekirigiri Following

all my mutuals will be very happy to know I GOT CAST FOR SEASON 53!!!!

#for legal reasons this is a joke haha 

1 note

based entirely on @okthatsgreat 's original post

[delphi-shield]

ᴀ ɴᴏɴ-ᴛʀᴀᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴏᴀᴄʜ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏꜱꜱ & ɢʀɪᴇꜰ // claire redfield

Claire Redfield x Reader hurt/comfort, fluff wc: 1.4k read on ao3 we always talk abt leon's raccoon city trauma but claire was there toooo she had hopes and dreams and her aspirations were ripped away from her in one night!!!

summary: Raccoon City took parts of Claire that she can never get back. She suffers prettily most days, a poster-child for how to handle survivor's guilt. Others, she torments herself with what could have been.

Or;

Claire decides to go back to finish her interrupted undergraduate degree.

content: hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, reader's pov

Claire keeps washing the same damn coffee mug.

It's been like this for the past five minutes. Claire half-heartedly scrubs at the cup, her mind somewhere far away, eyes glazed over.

That's what you picture, at least. From where you're seated, you can only see her back, her profile carved from the warm light of your apartment. It would be idyllic if you didn't know better. Stress suspends her at the kitchen sink, a string wound between her limbs that pulls her taut.

“You're gonna scrub the design off,” you warn. It takes a moment for your voice to penetrate her stupor. You picture her blinking, shaking her head slightly. Her ponytail swings gently, the image of her in your mind transposed into your kitchen.

Claire shuts the water off. She grabs a cloth to dry her mug. A new fixation. She's rubbing the damn thing hard enough that the ceramic squeals under her grip.

This is the part that takes patience.

Claire's been hemming and hawing like this for weeks now. It's never shaky hands and uncertain words with her - it's furrowed brow and loud huffs, a tumultuous battle within herself that leaves you in her wake. Dinners alone, late nights spent peering around the corner of her office, asking her if she's coming to bed. She returns your texts late, disjointed thoughts spilling into midday messages. You piece her meaning together from the shrapnel. Collateral damage.

As much as you'd love to light the spark in her eyes again, to smooth the worried creases from her forehead and ply what bothers her from pursed lips, you know it's futile. She needs the time and the space to tell you on her own, when she's ready. Push too hard and you'll get burned.

It's not work that's troubling her - you had checked. She presents at a conference next month, but in typical Claire fashion, she’ll do all her worrying about that the week before.

Chris is fine, too. That's the other big one that sets her teeth on edge. You'd checked in with him the other night. (Though you always suspected he alerted Claire of your calls. He wasn't good at keeping secrets where Claire was concerned. You're similar that way, you suppose.)

The cup stops squeaking. You lift your head up, dare to peer out of your foxhole. Claire's back is still turned to you. You duck back down, scroll on your phone to paint the illusion of casualty. Casualness, you correct yourself.

“I'm thinking about going back to school.”

You don't even pick your head up. “Oh, like for your master’s?”

Claire’s silence raises your eyes. Her shoulders are still drawn up high in her cream button-up.

“No,” she manages. Jesus, you've never heard her sound so small. “For my bachelor’s.”

You set your phone to the side and nod to the seat across from you. Your cheek squishes against your fist and you carefully curate your expression. A vulnerable Claire is a volatile Claire.

“So, like, a different major, or..?"

“I don't know.” Frustration sets her brow in a harsh crag. She huffs, swatting the question away with a hand.

Just gotta let her work this out, you remind yourself, biting your tongue. Something about this has her flayed open in her own home. She folds her arms across her chest, hands slotting against her ribs to stem the bleeding.

Claire's eyes flit to your phone. When you don't pick it back up, refuse to scroll aimlessly until the conversation is forgotten, she scowls.

“You know I never graduated, right?”

“Really?” You blink, shrug, anything to stay nonchalant. “I guess I just figured you had.”

“I finished my freshman year. Then Raccoon City happened.”

Your heart dips. It always comes back to Raccoon City eventually. You wonder if she spends more time in that burned out shell of a city than anywhere else, if her far-off looks always lead her back to the decimation and the rot.

You reach across to squeeze her hand. “You wanna go back?”

Claire nods. Her eyes filter past you, over your shoulder.

“I don't like leaving unfinished business.”

“I know.”

“God, it would be expensive. Like, a total waste of money.”

“Weren't you just bragging about TerraSave's tuition reimbursement plan like, a couple weeks ago?”

“Yeah, but…” The argument dies on her tongue, her words splattering on the table between you. You trace idle shapes against the back of her hand, waiting for her to disarm herself.

You can think of any number of reasons to tell her not to. You're sure they're the same ones that spin in her head now. Realistically, she doesn't need the degree. Not having it isn't preventing her from progressing in her career. She's been more than successful without it. But this isn't about her future. It's about her past.

Finally, she takes her finger off the trigger. Her shoulders round. Whether it's in defeat or acceptance, it doesn't make much of a difference.

“I don't know, I just – I'm almost 40.” She rolls her eyes, trying to cover up the way her voice had softened. “It's kind of weird to go back and sit in Comp 101 with a bunch of eighteen year olds.”

“Fuck ‘em.” Claire snorts, but the set of her shoulders doesn't round like you'd hoped. You reach across the table, fingers loosely encircling her wrist. “I'm serious, baby. Who cares? You'd tell me the same thing.”

“You don't think it's a waste of time?”

I don't think anything that helps you bury Raccoon City is a waste of time, you want to say. You weave around the landmine instead.

“No way. What major are you going to pick?”

“I was a psych major before everything…” She gestures nebulously in the air between you. A soft tap-tap-tap stirs from beneath the table, her heel clicking against the floor anxiously. “You know.”

You hum and squeeze her hand a little tighter, try to drag her off the streets of Raccoon City. You bounce ideas off of each other, both serious and silly.

This is nothing that will be decided over The course of one night, but she ends up leaning away from psychology. It's more practical to study business, she says. More useful for her work.

You've long devolved into talking nonsense. Claire had asked about your college experience, and you'd picked the stupidest stories possible, trying to see her smile, to see her throw her head back with laughter.

You pause mid-sentence, gasp, eyes sparking bright. “Oh my god, you're gonna be a non-trad. Let's get you one of those backpacks with wheels.”

“Stop,” she laughs, swatting your arm.

“I'm serious. You gotta have the full experience.”

“You're ridiculous.”

“You have to walk down the middle of the sidewalk no matter what.”

“I'm probably just going to do online classes.”

“And you only have two speeds - really fast, or the slowest walker on campus.”

“I'm definitely doing online classes.”

You shake your head. You're definitely ordering her that bag, even if she won't use it. As much as she travels, she might actually get some use out of it, even if she isn't physically attending classes.

You rise from the table and fill her sparkling clean mug with a layer of honey (local, the farmer's market last Saturday, her hand in your back pocket and fresh banana bread dangling from from the bag in the crook of her arm) and switch the kettle on. While you rifle through the cabinet for her favorite tea, you drum up your courage to ask something that could sour the peace.

“How come you never went back to school before now?”

For a moment, you worry you've ruined things. You peer over your shoulder at her, evaluating the thoughtful look on her face carefully.

“I had a lot going on. There was this whole thing with Chris, and–” Claire looks over at you, mischief burning in her eyes. “Hey. Did I ever tell you I'm not allowed back into France?”

“What.”

“Yeah. Not kidding. Hope you didn't want to honeymoon in Paris.”

The kettle clicks off. You nearly spill the water on yourself trying to pour her tea. Bustling back over, you carefully place it in front of her and then careen into your seat. Your chin drops into your hand.

“Tell me everything.”

Claire laughs. Her limbs loosen, both hands curled around her favorite mug. She leans in close and starts her tale. Paris, Antarctica - you wouldn't believe her if she were anyone else.

But she isn't. She's Claire Redfield, and she's finally back in your apartment, hand curled around your thigh. There's no Raccoon City in her eyes anymore. It will be back - she will always be there, in part. You aren't naîve enough to think otherwise. Tonight is proof, though, that she won't be stuck there.

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (6) (Teaser)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: TBD Release Date: Sept 13, 2024 at 5pm (MT) Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, angst, trauma, panic attacks, kissing, SMUT (more to come in the official release), ableism, mention of past alcohol abuse, talk of previous sexual encounters, talks of bullying, probably poor swimming terminology, I also have no idea how swim events work so might be wrong about that too, talks of possible inappropriate coach-athlete relationship, lots of insecurities, survivor's guilt, lots of guilt and shame actually, reader needs to be kinder to herself, we all deserve a Jimin, he's still best boyfriend, more to come later...

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“Ready?”

I jumped. Beside me, Jimin laughed. 

“Yeah, yeah,” I joked. “Laugh it up. Just take your clothes off and get in the water.”

Jimin stuck his tongue out at me, peeling his jacket off and tossing it on his gear bag. His flip flops were next and in no time he was in the water. I stood at the edge and watched as he started doing his laps. This was more about stretching his body than training, and I told him he needed to get better at practicing taking this slow.

The pool began to fill in with the others as they practiced their designated moves. Jimin and the boys were tagging each other in and out to get used to taking turns diving in. I watched with pride. His breaststrokes looked amazing. His progress was something to behold and I was honored I had been trusted with him. Relationship aside, he was such a hard working person and it was a pleasure to work with him.

“He looks good,” Coach Tyler Moore told me, his eyes locked on Jimin’s form. “Better than when he was with that other guy. Kid’s an animal.”

“Good for a short guy,” Nicole, one of the other coaches, joked.

Jimin’s height was always a topic of discussion for him. His length had him at a disadvantage compared to other swimmers and it was a mystery how he was able to compete competitively at all. Olympic level swimmers were at least six-foot in the men’s category. Most of the women were taller than Park, too. Myself included.

“He’s a great swimmer,” I replied. “He’s fast and strong. Could probably bench press a bear if he tried.”

Tyler laughed. “Do you think he’ll place at the Olympics?”

I nodded, “Of course I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Girl’s a recluse,” A familiar dry voice drawled beside me.

I chuckled. I had known Summer Lewis since we were in high school. We were good friends back in the day before she moved out to Michigan after getting married. I wasn’t expecting to see her here, but it was a welcome surprise that eased some of my nerves. 

“Thought hell would freeze over before she was back in public,” Summer continued. “Do you even leave the house?”

“Yes,” I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “Obviously. I’m here right now.”

“How are you feeling?” She asked when the others broke off from the group to talk to a group of reporters. “Leg holding up?”

“Yeah. I still get a bit of pain sometimes and when it’s cold it hurts more, but I’m alright. Alive, so I can't complain too much.”

The same couldn’t be said for Namjoon, I thought. I cast that out of my mind. There was no room for survivor’s guilt right now. I was happy. Everything was working out. He would be happy for me. But he’s dead.

I took a deep breath. I was too stressed out about today. The reporters were inching closer and closer and the thought of interacting with them made me feel physically ill. My stomach churned uncomfortably and I pushed down the rising panic. It was so stupid.

Nothing had even happened and here I was sweating like a pig.

“Do you miss it?” Summer asked, jutting her chin out toward the pool.

“All the time,” I told her. A bead of sweat trickled down my neck. “Hey, I’m going to go use the bathroom real quick. Let Park know if he starts looking for me.”

Summer nodded, “We’ll be starting in ten.”

“I’ll be back before then.”

Jimin was already looking my way when I spared him another look. He lifted up his hand and raised his thumb. I nodded at his unasked question, not wanting to worry him. This was my thing that I needed to handle. He just needed to focus on the water and being with his team.

Squeezing my hand into a fist, I tucked my thumb underneath my index finger and popped it through the other side. Waving my wrist, I signed to him that I needed to use the restroom. He nodded and I could tell he relaxed a bit. Good. I just needed a few minutes to collect myself.

I splashed water on my face. Back in the same bathroom we were in this morning. I splashed myself again before I let my mind wander. Today was too much. My anxiety was at an all-time high and the make up on my face felt like spackle. I knew it looked nice, it was the same as it was every time I did it, but it only served to make me even more insecure. I looked like I was trying too hard, and everyone knew that. God, I was such an idiot.

And then the whole thing with Jimin.

I let a single tear slip. That was so inappropriate and disrespectful. He was so nervous and scared, and I just took him at face value. He told me something so deeply personal, and I just glossed over it because of what? I hadn’t gotten any in a while? I was no better than the men I despised.

I allowed myself two minutes to cry. All of the guilt and shame I felt poured out of me, but once my watch went off, I was dabbing my face off with tissues and fixing my makeup. Whatever was going on with me would have to wait. My boy was counting on me.

Opening the bathroom door, I slammed into a chest. I stumbled a few feet back barely catching myself on the wall. The person I bumped into was stood still.

“I’m so sorry,” I gushed, adjusting my clothes. “Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine.”

I recognized that voice anywhere.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[blues824]

Hashira with a s/o that is beloved by the god/goddess of death! Meani they are immortal being. They, like the water hashira has a lot of survivor's guilt..

S/o is a new hashira.... met the Blood Pillar! Other game's they are called are 'Blessed Death, Eternal Rest, Child of Death, Demon, Spiritless Slayer,etc...'

They wear a black wedding? veil that is attached to a dead flower crown! Their haori is huge on them and I mean that comfy baggy feel! The design is the basic black base and the pattern is like this!

S/o is the opposite of what they look like but they give of 'cinnamon roll but I wear the pants in the relationship energy!'

Gender-neutral reader, described as beautiful. Mentions of marriage.

Gyomei Himejima

Bro can’t see you, but he has some sort of concept of how you look and he thinks the veil adds to your beauty. He probably worships you because you are beloved by the god of death, but once you become his significant other it’s over for you. He is down on his knees for you.

Since he has a visual impairment, his other senses are heightened. Thus, he can feel when you’re sad. There was one time where you were thinking back to your fallen comrades and a heavy onset of survivor’s guilt just hit you, and Gyomei pulled you into his arms and just stayed there for a few seconds. No words were needed, as you cried into his chest.

Every time he meets with you, he will lift the veil and give you a kiss. It never fails to make you flustered, because if you remember you would typically know that this action is reserved for the big day. Not to worry, because he promises that he will marry you one day.

You both are natural-born leaders, but he’s happy to follow you around. You often take his hand in yours and gently pull him along to different places, especially if you are admiring the flowers placed within burial sites. It’s not an uncommon thing to visit them because of your profession after all.

Mitsuri Kanroji

The Love Hashira with the Blood Hashira… if this doesn’t fit hand-in-hand in the darkest way possible, I don’t know what does. When you become her significant other, be prepared for an onslaught of affection and loving words as well as gifts.

She can tell when her beloved is saddened, and if you want to talk to her then she will share some of her sakura mochi to get you more comfortable. If you don’t want to talk about it, she won’t force you. She believes that you will tell her when you’re ready.

Whenever she gets the chance, she will steal your haori. It’s comfortable, it smells like you, and it brings her comfort. You can’t even be mad because she’s so adorable. Mitsuri will pout when you ask for it back, and will beg you for just 5 more minutes.

For being the Blood Pillar, you were the least violent person that she knew. You even returned a lot of her affection. Placing a kiss upon the back of her hand as a greeting, supplying her with sakura mochi to surprise her, gifting her a bouquet of flowers, etc. 

Giyu Tomioka

Was very wary of you at first, but got attached quicker than he would have liked to admit. For a person beloved by the god of death, you were a very happy person. When you became his significant other, you really showed him what joy was. It was a fun feeling that he had forgotten.

He can tell that you have survivor’s guilt. It takes one to know one. So, when he can tell that you’re trying to pull through the depressive episode by yourself, he will hug you. Physical affection isn’t his strong suit, but he knows that you need it so you know you’re not alone.

Finds the veil with the dead flowers beautiful in a dark way. He also lifts the veil to give you a kiss, but instead of it being a greeting each day, it’s when you are united again after a mission. This can lead to a full makeout session depending on how long either of you have been gone.

Giyu knows nothing about romantic relationships, so you are definitely going to have to lead him through it. He constantly lives with the fear of losing you, but you have to remind him that he’s the mortal one here. 

Tengen Uzui

You were an addition to his family, and his wives and himself each loved you. He first found both the fact that you were favored by the god of death as well as the fact that you were therefore immortal to be flamboyant, until much much later.

He can also tell when you’re going through an episode of survivor’s guilt, and he and his wives will try to comfort you to the best of their abilities. It often ends up being a huge cuddle pile with you being the center of attention. It serves as a reminder that you’re now married to 4 people who are there now and care about you.

Even though the ceremony had passed, your Hashira outfit contained a black-based haori with a veil that was attached to a headpiece decorated with dead flowers. It was giving a corpse bride, and your husband and wives were thriving for it.

Again, Tengen always considered himself as the ‘leader’ of his family, but you were definitely the true leader. Before going out on a mission with you, he would ask if he could go because you had a much higher chance of surviving if the plans were screwed up.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

The second you were introduced, all disrespectful thoughts about you flew right out the window. You looked sad, and he suddenly felt his heart tugging at itself, wanting to go comfort you. Bro has no idea where this feeling came from, but he knew that he wanted you to be his.

When you’re feeling down because you're reminiscing about the loss of your fallen comrades, he won’t give you the time to feel sad. He wants you to turn it into a productive anger, and he will pull you by the hand to start training. He will throw punch after punch so you are distracted.

Your haori and veil never fail to make him flustered. He sees you move with grace in battle, and he has almost died a few times because you distract him. If you accuse him of being cheesy like that, he will tell you to shut up and he will cover his mouth so you won’t see he’s blushing. When he officially lifts the veil, he thinks you look breathtaking before he places a kiss upon your lips.

I think you both are leaders, but behind the scenes Sanemi is very soft. If you are to trace his scars in public, everyone will be able to see who’s really wearing the pants in the relationship. It was weird the first time someone caught you because they saw the Wind Hashira laying his head on your lap as you run your hands through his hair.

Shinobu Kocho

She thought you were very intriguing at first. Beloved by the god of death, you were granted immortality. You were practically a legend, but she knew that you were suffering. She could see it clearer when you both got more romantically involved.

When you’re down in your feels, she will bring you some tea and she will place her large haori over your shoulders so you’re surrounded by her smell. She will listen to you if you want to talk to her about your old friends that you lost in battle. She knows what you’re growing through; she lost her sister by a demon.

The butterflies around the estate often land upon your dead flower crown, and it makes you look absolutely majestic. The splashes of color amongst all the black you wear really added a certain touch of delicacy, like life meeting with death. It served as a metaphor for you two: life meeting death.

Shinobu doesn’t mind you being the leader within the relationship. It gives her someone to go to when she’s distressed. But it really shows when she’s going to be sent on a mission. You insist that you go instead because you’re immortal and you have a much less chance of dying.

Kyojuro Rengoku

You are the coal to his flame. You are why he is alive. When you first got introduced to each other, mans took a real minute and let his smile drop as he was gazing at you. He was just in shock at how gorgeous you were. When you finally came around to saying hello to him, he took your hand and placed a kiss on the back of it.

He knows what it’s like to feel guilty for being the one to live, and he’s aware that it must be even harder for you because you’re immortal and can’t die. But he won’t let you think that you should have died. In order to distract you, he took you outside to see the sunset.

Your veil just added a bit of mystery that he absolutely loved. When he finally got permission to lift the veil (you think he’s going to pass up the chance of marrying you??), your eyes made him realize that you were his whole world. 

This man goes so soft for you, it’s so freaking adorable. He might seem like he’s leading you both in the relationship, but you are the one wearing the pants. He is not afraid to show that in public either. He worships the ground you walk on… in public and at home.

Obanai Iguro

He didn’t know what to think when he first saw you. He wanted to be angry that someone had joined them as a fellow Hashira, but you were just so beautiful. Kaburamaru started slithering towards you and the Snake Pillar was so embarrassed. However, you knelt down and gathered his animal companion to place him gently on your shoulders. That’s when he knew he was in love.

As stated before, you suffer from survivor’s guilt. Obanai isn’t the best when it comes to comfort, but he will allow Kaburamaru to become your companion in times of grief. He knows that this feeling will get worse as time goes on, especially with your ‘blessing’ of immortality.

Obanai first lifted your veil in private, and you did the same with his bandages. He was scared of what you would think, but you placed a kiss on each side of his mouth before placing one on his lips. Bro was so happy he almost cried.

Now, no one expected it, but this pillar is a huge pushover when it comes to you. He’s not the best with words, so he shows his love through gifts. But you show your love to him through physical affection, something he’s not used to but definitely loves. There was one time where he fell asleep on you, and you covered him with your haori.

Muichiro Tokito

He was staring off into space until you came into his view. He was taken by surprise by a black veil with a black and red haori, and he thought you were the most alluring person he had ever seen. Bro started following you around like a lost puppy.

Now, he knows what it’s like to live with survivor’s guilt. However, his grief has manifested into anger that he just suppresses. You deal with worse on a constant basis. You’ve lost your family so long ago, and he can’t imagine having to cope with trying to not get close to anyone because you’ll end up losing them.

Your veil and haori are very interesting to him, along with the flower crown you wear. The flowers actually started blooming once again, probably because of the mist he creates with his breathing technique. Once he does lift the veil (in a few years), the flowers atop your head look as though they were just bloomed. This man was never in charge in the first place. He may ask you out on cloud-gazing dates, and he might be the king of different unexpected dates because he likes to surprise you, but you would be doomed if he was in charge. He zones out a lot, but you have nothing against being in charge.

[topazy]

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 5.05

Your eyes sting as more tears fall from them. You wipe them away with the back of your hand, then pull your knees up to your chest. You let out a shaky breath. Three weeks had passed since Beth died in Atlanta, and since then the group had tragically lost another member, Tyreese. He died when part of the group split off to see if Noah’s hometown of Shirewilt was liveable, and now your group was heading in the direction of DC.

The town was unlivable and full of nothing but rotten corpses.

Most of the group of survivors you were part of were sitting in the middle of the road, but a few of you had gone off to try and search for water and food in the woods. Since your group had hardly any left, everyone was becoming dangerously dehydrated. The group's mood was at an all-time low, and you had barely spoken in three weeks, only when necessary.

You jump, feeling a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, hey, it’s just me,” Daryl says. “I just wanted to make sure you ate something.”

If you weren’t still in so much pain from grieving, you would have found the humor in Daryl offering you a handful of worms as a meal. A few years ago, you would have run away screaming if a bug even touched your skin, and now you were getting ready to eat the slimy insects without a second thought. You let him place a few worms in your hand. “Thanks.”

“Beth, never shut up about you.”

You say nothing, and you continue to eat in silence.

—

When you returned to meet up with the others along with Daryl, you found out that someone had left bottles of water further up the road with a note saying ‘from a friend’ but nobody drank out of the bottles in case they were poisoned.

You scrunch your nose up at the smell of burning food. Four hungry dogs had run out from the tree line and onto the road, but before they could attack or run away, Sasha shot all of them, which resulted in the animals being skinned and cooked as a meal. Everyone ate aside from you and Noah.

Noah seemed to be too consumed by guilt to eat, and the thought of eating your favorite animal turned your stomach.

You sit the furthest away from the group by yourself until Carl sits down beside you on a dry patch of grass. He nudges your knee with his elbow. “Hey, I got something for you.”

You look at him through tired eyes and say, “Yeah?”

Carl pulls two bracelets made of yarn out of his pocket; they were covered in dirt, but you could still make out the bracelets were a mixture of blue and purple. “I found these while looking for water in abandoned cars a few days ago; I was just waiting for the best time to give it to you. I remember you saying, you used to make friendship bracelets with your mom for the church fundraiser.”

Your eyes become glossy at the memory of sitting on your bedroom floor hours after your bedtime, making them with brightly colored threads and sparkly beads. You hold the wrist out, and Carl puts the bracelet on before tying the ends into tight knots. “They are really pretty,” you say quietly. “Thank you.”

Once yours is securely on, Carl holds up his wrist for you to do the same. “No matter where we end up or how alone we feel, we can just look at these and remember that we will always have someone who has our back.”

For the first time in weeks, you smile.

—

Noticing Daryl going off on his own again, you get to your feet and follow him into the woods, being careful not to step on any of the skeletons on the forest floor. Suddenly he stops walking and says, “Not now, kid, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know.”

Beth’s death hadn’t just taken a toll on you and Maggie; everyone else in the group who knew her felt her death too, just in different ways. You walk up behind Daryl and wrap your arms around his waist. At first, you think he’s going to shove you off, but he places his hands on top of yours. Daryl was tough, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t fragile like the rest of you.

“When we... after the prison... I’m glad Beth was with you.”

Despite his best efforts to hold it together, a heartbroken sob passes his lips.

You stay like that until you feel the first drop of rain hitting your skin. You let go of Daryl and ran back to the highway. Empty bottles were being placed down to collect the rainwater.

A sense of relief hit you; everyone aside from Maggie and Sasha looked happy. You smile watching as Carl takes off his hat and uses it to shield Judith from the rain; she was crying because her clothes had gotten soaked.

Hearing a loud crackle in the sky, you look up and notice the oncoming storm. “Oh shit.”

Daryl points back the way and says, “I saw a barn; let’s go.”

—

Once the barn was cleared by Rick, Michonne, and Maggie, they gave the rest of you the go-ahead to go in. It didn’t take long for a small to be made and any supplies sought out.

“Hey!” Maggie comes over to you, tucking stands of damp hair behind your ear. “It’s been tough, but we’ve made it this far.”

“I know.”

She kisses the crown of your bed and says, “Try and get some sleep.”

It doesn’t take you long to fall asleep. You and Carl chose to sleep on top of some hay, with Judith safely nestled between you. Most of the adults sit around the fire till late into the night until they fall asleep one by one.

Feeling a chill If you sit upright, it takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. Everyone else was asleep aside from Judith, who was wiggling on her back. You make sure she’s tucked up close enough to her brother that she won’t roll away and get hurt.

You approach the barn doors held together by a metal chain. You weren’t surprised it was cold with the rain still lashing down. You step closer to the doors to look out and see what damage the heavy rainfall caused, and between the flashes of lighting, you see walkers coming your way.

Stumbling back, you struggled to form a sentence but managed to scream one word, “Rick!”

When the barn door starts to move, you press yourself against it. Seconds later, Daryl is beside you, then Maggie, then Rick. Soon everyone was pushing their full body weight against the doors, waiting for the storm to pass.

[medusaesque]

Lt. Kim Kitsuragi and the pale-

Warning- it's insanely long.

1. After life, death

One of the first thing you can learn about Kim is that he would hurl himself in death's way to save you. From the very first moment, Kim is related to sacrifice and death, it follows him wherever he goes-

The slaughterhouse.

He lost his parents at two years old. He worked a year in Processing (here's good post about that by @renmorris and @spilledkaleidoscope). He lost his partner, Eyes. People have taken a bullet that was meant for his more than once. His survivor's guilt is insane. He's killed six people. He's afraid of killing recklessly, and has a deeply unhealthy relationship with his gun (made another embarrassingly long post about that).

Kim also hears pale 'ghosts' on the police radio all the time, and talks about it like it's normal, and says he doesn't believe in ghosts.

If harry is with Noid during the Moralist dream quest (more on it later), Harry can even wonder if Kim is a ghost, prompting this beautiful exchange-

And he's not entirely wrong. When Harry gets shot, after Kim fulfills Espirit's promise he'll stand in death's way for him, you can ask as you fall into darkness what will happen to you-

It's the living who are ghosts. You can leave them behind and rest. Go into the wild pale yonder, along with everyone else Kim has ever cared about. Or at least you can try to.

When death is at the door, you have two options-

2. After death, life again

Kim might associate himself with death, but Harry associates him with life again and again- Death is darkness, Kim has a light bulb halo. Death is a sunset, Kim is a sunrise. Death is where you are when the game start, it's ready to take you, and then- a clarion call, the sound of a motor carriage, a detective arriving on the scene, and you open your eyes.

The game is very clear about Harry being a ceaseless agent of the world (here's a good compilation by @junawer) but he's not the only one. Harry stands at death's door twice, and Kim is his way back to the world both times.

3. After the world, the pale

So what is Kim's relationship with the pale?

As casual as he might try to appear, Kim is clearly uncomfortable with the pale, attempting to protect Harry from it. When Harry brings up the pale, he intervenes, genuinely worried for the fragile stability of his mind.

It's no more terrifying than water or death or that we're stuck behind our eyes for all eternity?? Sounds pretty terrifying Kim...

The key is in the moralist vision quest, When Harry attempts to each the Committee of Responsibility, and he hears the pale crosstalk coming through the radio, when suddenly-

"Pale is a shroud of memories and it doesn't really distinguish to whom those memories belong to. You could hear anything." You could hear anything, but you hear Kim. If he isn't with you, Soona even says that the odds of us hearing him, out of all the voices in the pale, are astronomically low.

We know the past has not been harmless to Kim, we know it's full of ghosts and cold winters, but that's not the thing that's eating at him-

Kim is afraid of forgetting. He's constantly writing, he thinks through his notebook, always recording, so he wouldn't lose anything. That's why the pale is so terrifying.

4. After the pale. the world again

The world is what it is. God is in his heaven. Everything is normal on Earth.

Volta do mar is a skill unique to Kim, according to the stats of this pilot jackets-

It makes sense, seeing how the only real advance in pale transit is the speed with which an aerostatic craft can pierce it.

His Black jacket is a bit more complicated-

DISTANT ENEMY OF HIMSELF?? kim.... The connections to Seol is intriguing here, considering how Kim tries to distant himself from it. I'm also not sure what 'sitting down for volta' would mean in this context, would love to hear some of you guys' thoughts.

It's driving me crazy to think how Kim wanted to be pilot as a kid, and is walking around dressed like a pilot as an adult, to give himself the ability to navigate the pale. To return from the sea and fulfill the role he has to play in the world, the thing Harry thought about a million times-

But we know Kim has a bigger role to play, he's trying to do his part right now, convincing Harry to stay-

His connection to Harry can keep him on this world once again. Keeping the two of them together. Your real work is down here, both of you-

Kim was right, each of them has a role to play in the world, but it's not a minor one. Him and Harry are Revachol's only hope. If they stick together they could keep her on this earth, stop the end of the world.

UNITY AMONG THE RANKS IS PARAMOUNT.

I NEED YOU. YOU CAN KEEP ME ON THIS EARTH. BE VIGILANT.

I LOVE YOU.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

This question might be off topic..👀 or strange perhaps.

In your opinion , how do you think other Strawhats if each of them were in Luffy's place instead and instead of Ace , Luffy died at Marineford?

I am trying to find a way to draw other Strawhats but slightly having troubles with finding best devasted like poses/things they's do upon such trauma☆

This wound up focusing a lot more on the long term aftermath than the initial devastation because I believe it would be pretty similar for everyone (whole lot of screaming and crying), but I hope you still find this useful or at least fun to read.

In the event of Luffy dying at Marineford, everyone would be in shambles. Whitebeard (assuming he lives) would offer them a place to stay on his ship while they regroup and try to grapple with the trauma of what happened. He isn't forcing them to join his crew or anything. They're free to go whenever they please, but he would also welcome them with open arms should they choose to stay.

Zoro splits off almost immediately and returns to his life as a bounty hunter. He is very much still pursuing his goal, just in solitude. He is constantly being inundated with invitations to other pirate crews, but he rejects all of them (sometimes violently). Luffy is the only person he will ever all captain. He blames himself a lot for his death. He was supposed to support and protect his captain, but he failed miserably. He's even more cold and removed than he used to be, and he'll never let anyone else in again. He also drinks more, to the point that it becomes genuinely concerning.

Nami also leaves, but takes more time to do so. She claims that she's only going back to Cocoyasi village temporarily so that she can process everything that has happened around familiar faces, but she never sets foot in the Grand Line again. Luffy was her safety net. Even in the most scary and intense situations, she could find solace in the reassurance that Luffy would be there to handle it... But now he isn't. He's gone forever and she feels lost without him. The Grand Line is much more scary without him leading the way. She will eventually start venturing around the Blues, but that is it.

Usopp cannot handle the survivor's guilt. He latches onto the Sogeking persona to cope after Luffy's death. It becomes extremely rare to see him without the mask, and he doesn't even respond to hearing the name Usopp anymore. He wants to go home so bad, but he can't bring himself to. He can't stomach having to look everyone there in the eye and telling them why he's back. Now would be a great time for Yassop to step up and be a father, but he's nowhere to be seen so Whitebeard steps up to the plate. He supports Usopp and actually talks him through the intense grief that is choking him. It takes time, but Whitebeard does succeed in making Usopp take of his physical and metaphorical mask by properly addressing his emotions on the matter. Usopp decides to stay with the Whitebeard Pirates and accepts becoming one of Whitebeard's sons.

Sanji is devastated. He wanted to leave immediately, but waited around for Nami to be ready to go before heading back to the East Blue. Sanji goes back to the Baratie and refuses to talk about what happened. He blames himself intensely for not being there for the battle and fully believes that it's his fault that Luffy is dead. On top of his smoking habit, he starts drinking. Everything feels so hollow now, and nothing will fill that emptiness. The only times that Zeff or the other Baratie staff members get a glimpse of the old Sanji is when Nami stops by to visit with him. Even then, he's much more subdued. He never really recovers from this and has abandoned the idea of ever finding the All Blue.

Chopper is inconsolable after Luffy's death. He feels like a failure as a doctor for not being able to save him even though there was nothing that he could do. He also chooses to stay with the Whitebeard Pirates and becomes Marco's apprentice. As devastated as he is by Luffy's death, he copes with it relatively well by throwing himself into an education. He does becomes obsessed with curing Whitebeard, however. He can't stand to watch two captains die back to back.

Robin up and vanishes as soon as night comes. This breaks her. She fully believes that Luffy's death was her fault. Someone finally loved and accepted her and look what happened to him. As far as she's concerned, she's cursed. Naturally, she distances herself from literally everyone. She refuses to let anyone else die because of her. She'll spend the rest of her life in solitude, and it probably won't take very long for that to happen.

Franky goes back to Water 7 with the Thousand Sunny after confirming that the Straw Hats were disbanding and that no one else wanted it. He makes the ship into a memorial for Luffy and takes meticulous care of it. While the death absolutely does hurt him, he copes with it the best out of anyone. He is no stranger to grief, and he bounces back relatively quick. He works for Galley-La designing ships, as well as doing so as a hobby.

Brook is similar to Robin in the sense that he believes that he is cursed. He finally let someone in and joined another crew, only for the captain to die almost immediately. He resolves to never join another pirate crew. Unlike Robin, he doesn't completely sink into despair. He pours all of his pain into music, and you can find a lot of clear inspiration from Luffy and other Straw Hats in his music. He also takes the time to visit Laboon whenever he can. He doesn't want the poor thing to be abandoned all over again.

Bonus round for Ace. Ace will never emotionally recover from this, and his grief is messy. He alternates between hysteric sobbing and an uncontrollable rage. One moment he'll be begging a god that he doesn't even believe in to give Luffy back and take him instead, but the next second he'll be destroying everything in arms reach while scream his throat raw. He's cursing Luffy for being a damned martyr. For putting himself somewhere he had no business to be. For leaving him to pick up the broken pieces in Luffy's wake. There is a noticeable improvement in his psyche once he reunites with Sabo and realizes he isn't the last brother left alive, but he is never truly the same after Luffy's death. It should have been him. He is very much at risk of dying not long after Luffy because if Garp doesn't kill Akainu, he will. And he will die trying.

[littlejoyss]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖊 (𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 7)

Stray Kids - Non-Idol!Bang Chan x Reader

Warnings: Gore, violence, zombie apocalypse, g*ns, suggestive, blood, swearing, needles, death

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊-𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 4, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 5, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 6, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 7. 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 8, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 9, 𝖊𝖕𝖎𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

(A/N: This chapter has heavy mentions of death. Take care of yourself lovelies <3)

"Chan sent me," he said, his voice low to avoid disturbing the others in the room. "He wants to see you in his quarters. Said it was important."

That night, Han knocked on the wall next to your bed. He looked tired, his hair slightly disheveled. Given what happened that day, it made sense that the humanities team was working overboard.

Your heart skipped a beat. "Did he say why?"

He shrugged, leaning against the wall. "Not really. Just that you should go now." He paused, then added with a faint smirk, "Though knowing him, it's probably some long lecture about safety protocols or how you should stay out of trouble. You know, the usual."

You chuckled softly, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "Thanks. I'll head over." You stood up and grabbed your jacket. "You should get some rest too."

Han gave a mock salute, his grin returning. "Aye, aye, captain. Good luck."

You left the room, your footsteps quiet on the polished floor. The hallway was dimly lit for sleep-time.

When you reached his door, you hesitated for a moment, wondering what could be so important that he needed to talk to you in private. Taking a deep breath, you knocked softly.

"Come in," came Chan's voice from the other side.

You pushed the door open to find him sitting on his bed. "Thanks for coming," he said, motioning for you to close the door behind you.

"What's going on?" you asked, stepping inside.

“You said to find you when I’m ready to stop running.”

Your breath stiffened as you sat next to him on his bed. Last time you did this you both did something you regret. You pushed that thought aside and let him speak. 

He started, “When the Lemures virus first spread, my sister was visiting from Australia. We both hid in my apartment. That was until we had to go out to get food a couple of days later. We followed what other survivors told us and went to a gas station nearby as sneaky as we could. But…it didn’t work. My sister…my sister didn’t make it.” 

His voice cracked as he said the words, and he looked down at his hands, fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve. His fingers were trembling slightly. Slowly, you reached out, placing a hand on his arm.

He continues, “She didn’t deserve that,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “She was the kindest person I knew. Always putting others first. And I couldn’t save her.” He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “I froze. I didn’t move fast enough. I wasn’t strong enough. And because of that, she’s gone.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you said softly, though you knew your words couldn’t erase his guilt.

He looked at you then, his eyes red and glassy. “You don’t get it. I keep telling myself that, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve spent every day since then trying to make up for it, trying to protect the people I still have left. But no matter what I do, it’s never enough. And now…”

His gaze dropped again, his voice trembling. “Now I feel like I’m going to lose you too. Every time I look at you I see her. I see what happened to her. And I can’t… I can’t let that happen.”

You spoke, “You’re not going to lose me-”

He shook his head, his jaw tightening. “You don’t know that. None of us know what’s going to happen tomorrow or even the next hour. Every time you go out there, every time you take a risk, it feels like I’m standing in that gas station again, watching her-”

His voice broke, and he clenched his fists, trying to hold himself together.

You reached out, covering his hand with yours. “I can’t promise you that nothing bad will happen,” you said, your tone firm but gentle. “None of us can. But I can promise you this, I’m here, right now, and I’m not going anywhere.” You moved his hands to your lips, kissing them. You hope it isn’t too soon to do something like that again.

Chan froze at your gesture, his breath hitching as your lips brushed against his trembling hands. For a moment, he didn’t move, his eyes locked on yours, a mix of surprise and uncertainty flashing across his face.

Finally, he calmed his breath, “After our argument I talked to Han and had him monitor you. I didn’t want to see you so that I wouldn’t develop an attachment, so I sent him to make sure you were okay. I know you hate that damn lab.”

Your eyes widened at his confession. “You…you had Han keeping tabs on me?”

Chan nodded his fingers tightening slightly around yours. “I know it was wrong. I didn’t trust myself to protect you the way I should, but I couldn’t just leave you alone. So, I asked Han to watch out for you.”

“I can’t tell if I should think that’s sweet or be upset you didn’t talk to me yourself.”

“I understand if you’re upset. I should’ve handled it better, but I was scared…scared of losing you, of being helpless again.”

His vulnerability and his honesty made your heart soften. You cupped his face gently in your hands, leaning in slowly, letting your foreheads rest against each other.

“You don’t have to be scared anymore,” you whispered, your breath mingling with his. “We’ll face this together. No more hiding.”

Chan closed his eyes for a moment, the tension in his body easing as he let your words sink in. Then, without another word, he leaned forward, pressing his lips softly to yours. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you murmured, resting your forehead against his, your hands still holding his face. “I’m here. Always.”

Chan smiled, a small tear slipping down his cheek. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Maybe not,” you teased, your thumb wiping the tear away, “but I’m still here.”

━━

You couldn’t sacrifice yourself anymore. You made a promise to Chan to stay with him and you want to keep it.

But would that be selfish? Is it selfish to live and not find a cure? Or is it selfish to die and leave Chan?

The thought lingered in your mind as you sat by the window, staring into the quiet world. You traced a finger along the glass, your reflection faint against the shadows. The weight of your role as a potential cure was a heavy, but Chan had a way of reminding you why you needed to stay. His voice, his touch, and his belief in you made it harder to think about throwing everything away.

As if on cue, you heard a voice behind you, “You okay?” Chan often had a habit of doing that.

You turned to see him standing in the doorway, his familiar warm smile lighting up the dim room. He held a guitar in his hands. It looked a bit worn, but it was still beautiful.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you said, smiling softly. “What’s with the guitar?”

He stepped into the room, holding it up with a slight shrug. “Found it stashed away in one of the storage rooms. Thought it might help take our minds off everything for a bit.”

“You play?” you asked as he sat down on the floor next to you.

He nodded, his fingers instinctively running over the strings. “Yeah, I used to be in school for music. Remember?”

“How could I forget?” You leaned back in your chair, letting the soothing sound of the guitar fill the room. “Do you remember any of the songs you used to play?”

“A few,” he admitted, his smile turning sheepish. “Mostly the ones I wrote. Want to hear one?”

“Of course. I didn’t know you were a songwriter, too.”

Chan chuckled, adjusting the guitar on his lap. "It was kind of my dream before… all of this." His fingers plucked at the strings.

His brows furrowed slightly in concentration, his lips parted just enough to let out a quiet breath before he started singing. His voice was smooth. The song felt personal, like it had been written for a moment like this.

As he played, your heart ached. You could hear the longing in his voice, the way he held onto something he thought he’d lost forever. But he still had this. He still had music.

When the last note faded into silence, you exhaled a breath. "That was beautiful," you whispered.

Chan looked up at you. "Yeah?"

You nodded. "Yeah. You should play more later.”

He smiled a real, soft smile. "If you’re here to listen, I’ll keep playing."

You shifted closer, resting your head on his shoulder as he placed the guitar to the side. His arm instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you in until you were snug against his chest. You can hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“This okay?” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair.

You hummed, nuzzling into him. “More than okay.”

Chan exhaled a quiet chuckle, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. His fingers traced slow patterns along your arm. For the first time in a long time, everything felt still. Safe.

He spoke again, “I visited with scavenging today.”

You lifted your head slightly, looking up at him with curiosity. “Yeah? Find anything good?”

Chan grinned, reaching into his pocket. “Actually…yeah.” He pulled out a small object, wrapped carefully in cloth. “I saw this and thought of you.”

Unfolding the cloth, he revealed a silver necklace. The pendant was a simple heart, slightly worn but still shining with the light from the window.

Your breath hitched as you carefully took it from his hands. “Chan… this is beautiful.”

He suddenly looked shy. “I know it’s not much, but I figured with everything going on, maybe having something just for you would be nice.”

You turned the pendant over in your palm, feeling the metal against your skin. Even in the middle of an apocalypse he tries to be romantic. You wonder what he would be like normally. 

Tears pricked at your eyes as you smiled. “It’s perfect.”

Chan’s smile softened, his fingers brushing against yours. “Here, let me.”

You turned slightly, gathering your hair as he fastened the necklace around your neck. His fingers lingered for a moment, grazing the skin at the back of your neck. “You okay?” he asked, searching your eyes.

You nodded, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Yeah. Just… thank you.”

Chan chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t get all sentimental on me now.”

You playfully nudged his arm. “Too late.”

His laughter faded into something quieter, something softer. Without another word, he reached for the guitar again. His fingers hovered over the strings for a moment before he started playing again.

It was different from the first song. This one was slower. It was the kind of song that made your chest ache in a way you couldn’t quite describe.

“That one’s my favorite,” you murmured.

Chan looked at you, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Play it again?”

His smile widened, and without hesitation, he started from the beginning.

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

hey I read your latest little remix of the Blood Brothers story where Quaritch goes full military dad on Spider and Hunter, and while reading it I couldn't help but think about how badly that kind of treatment could've backfired on him. After Spider finally broke down, Quaritch immediately went into "happy family" mode and everything was fine as far as he was concerned, but what if there was some unintended consequences to the cold, loveless months Spider endured.

What would've happened if the rift he forced between Spider and Hunter didn't repair so easily. What if Hunter continued to resent Spider for being a troublemaker and Spider continued to be jealous of Hunter and feel like their dad liked him more? What if they were cold to each other or even started fighting despite Quaritch expecting them to go back to getting along like the last few months didn't happen.

Oh I love this idea!

Part 1

To me it sounds like Spider would be in a state of mental and emotional whiplash from how fast Quaritch went into “happy family” mode after being in military mode for so long and that whiplash would cause him to get super depressed. So maybe that first 24 hours he’s just so relieved to finally have some peace that he seems fine. He hugs his guilt ridden brother and tells him everything will be okay. He plays games with his family with a smile on his face. But he just can’t stop that feeling that everything he’s doing is wrong.

The next day he’s up at 4 am wide eyed and ready for his drills. He gets himself ready, though anxiety courses through his veins when he can’t find his uniform. He settles on the closest thing he has and prays his father won’t be too mad at him. When he walks into the living room Quaritch is on the couch, sipping his morning coffee and reading a book. He raises an eyebrow at his son, “Miles? Why are you up so early? And why are you dressed? Go back to bed.”

Miles heart races and he feels like he might puke. His father just gave him an order but the order goes against their typical morning routine. He stays stoic on the outside, naturally snapping to attention, “yes sir. I’ll go back to bed sir.”

He turns to leave but his dad says, “you don’t have to call me sir all the time. I can just be your papa. Or Pa. Or dad. Whatever you like.”

“Yes….” Sir. He stops himself from saying it. Not using sir was the new order and he couldn’t disobey that. “…dad. Do you like dad? Would you rather I use one of the other choices you gave me?”

Alarm bells are going off in Quaritch’s head but he ignores them for now. “I don’t care son.”

Miles doesn’t like that answer. He’s about to ask again when it dawns on him that Hunter uses papa. That had to be the right answer. His father was just testing him. “Okay papa. I’m sorry. I’ll go back to bed now.”

Quaritch’s anger spikes slightly when he hears I’m sorry. His son had nothing to apologize for. So why was he cowering like a kicked puppy? He brushes it off for the time being, making a mental note to address it if it comes up again. “Sweet dreams son.”

When it comes to Hunter I can see there being a lot of messy emotions between them. I think Hunter would be absolutely torn up inside with guilt despite Spider seemingly forgiving him. And as Spider sinks into depression Hunter would get angry. Mostly he’s angry at himself, because survivors guilt. But he’d only be 13 by this point so it’s not like he could easily process these feelings without talking it out with someone. So he lashes out. Spider apologizes for everything now. The fire inside him has seemingly died. He can’t do a single thing of his own volition and it pisses Hunter off so much he feels like he could scream. Again he’s angry at himself and motivated by guilt so he thinks if he can just snap Spider out of it and bring him back to a semblance of his former self then everything will be fine.

He shoves his brother off the couch or out of bed. He hits him when he says sorry too many times. He cusses at his brother when he just wants to lay around during free time. And Spider just lets him. Because Hunter is the golden child after all. Why would he ever raise a hand to him.

Quaritch on the other hand is not pleased. He scolds Hunter constantly. He makes Hunter do hundreds of pushups and jumping jacks for hitting Spider. Hunter is more than happy to take the punishment. Spider always gets up to do the punishment too. Quaritch gets pissed by this and barks at him to go to his room. Spider does. But he does the punishments anyway. Quaritch can tell from the sweat on his brow and his heavy breathing.

Spider is just anxious all the time without a clearly defined right and wrong. Because everything he did used to be wrong. So he tries to be his father’s soldier again since at least he knew that was right. And Quaritch hates it. Sure he wanted his son to be obedient and respectful. But he also loved his spit fire son. Before he was so feisty and full of life. Now that’s nowhere to be found. And it makes him feel guilty way deep down but his pride won’t let him admit how badly he fucked up. So he just tries to encourage his son to come back to himself.

Spider picks at the meals he used to find delicious. After months of bland food, it’s all too flavorful and he hates it. “Miles what’s the matter? Don’t like my cooking?”

His dad is laughing to himself but the comment makes him uncomfortable. “No Pa! It’s really good!”

“So why aren’t you eating it?”

“I..I am!” Spider stutters rushing to choke down more than two bites.

“Don’t you dare lie.” Quaritch doesn’t shout but Spider’s blood turns to ice all the same, “if you like it so much then clear your plate.”

“Yes sir.” Spider flinches as soon as the words leave his mouth. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I know you don’t want me to…”

Quaritch gives him a sharp look, “just eat.” Spider withers. Hunter sinks into his chair, trying to disappear as he watches the exchange.

Free time is every day in place of their nightly drills. Spider never knows what to do with himself. He feels like he should be doing drills but his father said they weren’t doing those anymore. He glances at his art supplies but has zero motivation to use them. He ends up staring into the distance, completely despondent. When Quaritch goes to check on his boys he sees Spider in that state and immediately starts to panic but shoves it down. He knocks on the already open door to draw his attention. “Hey tiger, whatch’a doin’?”

Spider’s heart races, “nothing!”

Quaritch smirks, trying and failing to be disarming. “Yeah that’s what it looks like. Why don’t you paint? Or draw. Whatever you want. Make me a masterpiece.”

That gets Spider’s blood pumping. His father gave him an order. “Yes sir! I’ll do that right away sir.”

Quaritch sighs, “Miles…”

He freezes, “sorry sir - I mean papa! Sorry Pa!”

Quaritch feels a pit in his stomach. “Just try to have fun,” he says gently, then leaves the room.

When Spider’s hair starts growing back it drives him nuts. He fidgets with the meager length all the time, something Quaritch notices and gets annoyed by. Spider knows his father hated his long hair so why isn’t he making him cut it? He knows the high and tight style was what his dad approved of. This must be another test. To prove he’s a good son he has to ask, “papa will you cut my hair please?”

Quaritch analyzes him, running his fingers through Spider’s hair, “it’s not that long. I don’t think you need one.”

“But…”

His father talks over him, “oh hush. You used to have hair down your back. Now this is too long? Your curls aren’t even showing!”

His dad said it kind enough but Spider’s insides are still squirming. The problem is that he feels wrong and terrible and he just wants to not feel like that anymore. “But Pa…”

Quaritch’s anger flairs at the timid boy in front of him. The boy he sometimes doesn’t even recognize as his son anymore. “stop arguing! Y’a looked awful with that cut, is that what you want to hear! I’m not cutting it Miles so you better just get used to it!”

He might as well have smacked him. Miles hangs his head and says a soft, “yes sir.” Quaritch growls in frustration, hating himself. He turns swiftly and punches the wall, making Spider flinch. He’s so nervous that he starts tearing up. “What’d I do wrong! Why are you mad at me! I’m sorry! I’m sorry sir! For whatever I did I’m sorry!”

“Jesus Christ stop groveling! You didn’t do anything wrong can’t you see that!” Spider looks at him fearfully and uncomprehending. Quaritch waves him off with a snarl, storming out of the room. His heart feels like it’s in a vice and all he can think is, what have I done. I just want my son back. Hunter heard the whole thing from his bedroom and is crying into his pillow. Spider is left alone to have a panic attack at the kitchen table.

Quaritch never apologizes for lashing out but he does think about how he could do better. He decides that both his kids could benefit from more structure, more family time and more one on one time with him. He starts waking Hunter up at 7 instead of 8 so they can spend time with each other. They make breakfast together, talk, then relax in the living room until it’s time to wake up Spider. After breakfast they start school, earlier than they used to so they have an hour or so to play board games or watch a movie after dinner. Then Quaritch puts Hunter to bed around 10 so him and Spider can spend time together.

He uses this time to try and build Spider back up. They sit on the couch together and talk. It’s more Quaritch having to pry conversation from his son. He opens with, “how was your day?”

“Fine,” Spider answers, stiff as a board and fidgeting with his hands.

Quaritch sighs. He reaches out and starts rubbing circles into Spider’s back to try and calm him down. “Just fine? You did such a good job today! You aced your studies, you did all your chores without having to be asked, and you were so patient with your brother when he got all pissy for no reason. You’re so smart and responsible. You’re such a good son. I’m so proud of you.”

“Really?” Quaritch feels like he takes a knife to the heart seeing the look of desperate hope in his son’s eyes.

“Well of course! You’re the best first born son I could ever have!” Spider smiles his first genuine smile in months. “Come here,” Quaritch says, pulling him into his arms.

Spider is incredibly rigid at first. But as his dad pets his hair and tells him how good he is, he starts to relax.

Along with the new routine Quaritch drops the physical punishment. He still thinks they’re a good form of discipline but not with Spider’s behavior. So Spider is just laying in bed, staring at the ceiling during free time. Hunter passes by his room, sees him and feels his anger spike. He jumps onto his brother bed and starts shoving him. “Get up! Why aren’t you doing anything! Get up, get up, get up!”

“What is going on in here!” Quaritch yells, attracted by his son’s shouts.

Hunter is red faced, fists clenched but his eyes are shimmering with tears. “It’s free time but he’s not doing anything! He never does anything anymore!”

“I’m sorry,” Spider mumbles.

“Stop saying sorry for everything!”

“Hunter,” Quaritch calls, surprising both his sons with how calm he’s being, “stop. Get off your brother. And Miles, stand up.” Hunter stands there. Spider snaps to attention. Both wait for their punishment. “Now Hunter - give your brother a hug.”

“What,” the brother’s ask in tandem.

“You heard me.”

Tentatively Hunter hugs his brother. Spider is statue still the entire time. It makes Hunter burst into tears. “I’m sorry! It’s all my fault! I’m so sorry.”

Spider is unmoved. He’s more confused as to why his brother is apologizing. Quaritch on the other hand feels rocked to his core. He thought Hunter had just been acting like a brat after months of spoiling him. Now he can see his youngest is in the same boat as him and it’s all his fault. He doesn’t say a word just moves to hug his boys. Hunter keeps crying. Spider stays still and unfeeling.

The next morning when it’s just Hunter and Quaritch, Hunter goes off on his dad. “How could you do that to him! Months of treating him like shit! And for what! It’s like he’s not even a person anymore!”

Quaritch knows everything his son is saying is true but his anger and pride take over. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that! I didn’t hear y’a complaining when you were being treated like a little prince!”

Hunter’s intense guilt makes it feel like his stomach bottoms out. “I…I was scared.”

“And you liked the attention didn’t y’a? After being ignored for so long by your fake parents.”

Hunter sniffles and starts to cry, “yeah.”

“So y’a didn’t care that your brother was suffering as long as you got what y’a wanted.”

“Stop it,” Hunter screams beating his fists into Quaritch’s torso, “you made him suffer more! You killed him!”

Quaritch stoically pats Hunter’s head as he continues to cry and hit him. “Well look at you. You finally got that Quaritch fire in y’a.” Hunter stills at how oddly proud his dad sounds. “Your brother still has that too. He’s just… in a funk. I’m trying to snap him out of it. But it’ll take time. If you want to help then stop picking fights with him. Make him feel happy and good about himself…..”

“What’s going on,” Spider asks. All the yelling woke him up but he’s still half asleep and confused.

“Nothin’ son. Your brother and I were just having a conversation.

“A loud conversation,” Spider says bitterly. Hunter and Quaritch look at him in relief because for just a moment he sounded like his old self. Hunter quietly goes up to his brother and gives him a big hug. Spider - still insanely confused- hugs him back.

So to wrap things up, I don’t think Quaritch would let anyone come visit until both the boys were in a good place. He wouldn’t want to risk any of his subordinates growing a conscience and turning him in. Plus this would all happen during the winter when it’s too dangerous to climb the mountain.

Now that at least some part of Hunter feels understood he’s less angry all the time. He does what his dad tells him and is nice to Spider. He’s always asking his big brother to play games with him. He sits close to him while he does his school work. He even asks if he can read in Spider’s room while he works on his art, something that has the added bonus of actually getting Spider to work. And Spider really does enjoy it. He enjoys his brother’s quiet presence while he paints and during school. He loves playing games with him. But you’d never know from how stoic he is. Hunter and Quaritch do everything they can to make him laugh and smile. Hunter gives him hugs every night before bed. Quaritch holds him close and showers him with compliments. It’s an extremely long process but slowly Spider starts to relax a little.

Everything culminates on Spider’s 16th birthday. Quaritch was still being all military dad on Christmas so Spider got to watch as Hunter opened presents while he got nothing. Quaritch did have gifts for him, he just didn’t give them. So Spider gets double for his birthday. Hunter and Quaritch spend their morning decorating the living room and kitchen archway in balloons and streamers in Spider’s favorite colors. Spider likes cake just fine but his dad knows his favorite is chocolate chip cookies and so instead of birthday cake Quaritch baked a massive cookie, writing happy birthday on it in green frosting. Spider is absolutely floored when he walks into the room, only for his dad and brother to cheer and pop confetti canons, shouting, “happy birthday!”

Spider is surprised because he didn’t even realize his birthday was coming up. He looks around completely bewildered. There’s more presents than he’s ever received in his whole life combined, piled on and around the coffee table. “Are those all for me?”

“Well of course they are,” Quaritch says gently, “today is all about you! We’ll do whatever you want today. You tell me what y’a want to eat, I’ll make. You say what y’a want to do and we’ll do it. Anything at all.”

Spider feels emotions bubbling up that had been suppressed for months. “Can we have chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast?”

“Of course!”

“And can I go outside and climb trees?”

“As long as y’a bundle up.”

“And can we skip school today?”

Quaritch chuckles, “way ahead of y’a on that.” Hunter is grinning ear to ear because his brother is getting so visibly excited.

With every activity Spider seems more and more like his old self. It’s been months of his father and brother encouraging him to come back to himself but it’s this show of care and affection that really sends him over the edge. It’s when his dad brings out his massive birthday cookie all lit up with sixteen candles that Spider eyes start to water. They sing him happy birthday and he’s sobbing by the end releasing all the pain from being his father’s soldier. That’s over now. He needed it to learn how to be a good son. And now he is a good son. His family wouldn’t have done all this if he wasn’t. Now they could all move forward.

Quaritch throws another party in the summer. All of his old squad come. Most of them were completely down for Quaritch’s plan to take his kids back and run off to the woods but a few others weren’t as sure. People like Z and Ja. If the brothers seemed like they were being mistreated then they’d turn Quaritch in in a heartbeat. So they’re relieved when they’re greated by two happy, healthy, well cared for boys. Z watches them like a hawk for the entire weekend, looking for any little tick that might indicate that something was amiss but she never finds one.

They all have a great time. There’s music, great food and bonfires. Z brought the boys a border collie puppy they name Cupcake. The brothers have a blast playing with her and the adults smile and laugh as they watch.

And that’s where I’ll end it. Hope you enjoyed and thanks for getting me to continue to expand on this. It was really fun 💙💙💙💙💙💙

[calliecwrites]

Breakthrough

In the morning, everyone in my building is dead.

It takes me a while to notice. I live alone, and don’t see my neighbours often. But there are always little noises through the walls – doors closing, toilets flushing, voices – and now there aren’t any. By lunchtime, the shutters are still all closed. I knock on the doors, get no response, and call the police.

My neighbours have all died in their sleep.

Now I’m at the police station, waiting to be seen. My friend Ellen sits with me, holding my hand. As the only survivor, the police want to know if I heard or saw anything. Maybe I’m even a suspect. But they’re still rushing around, bringing in the bodies, contacting the families, doing autopsies – it could be a while before they’re ready for me.

And yet: I’m happy. I feel great. And my mind is going a hundred miles an hour because this is absolutely not how I should be feeling right now.

Ellen can tell something’s up. She always can. Well of course something’s up – we’re sitting in a police station and all my neighbours are dead. But there’s more than that, and she sees it. What do I tell her?

She leans in close. “What is it?”

“I dreamt I ate their souls,” I say eventually, and glance at her. We talk about my dreams all the time, and have a good laugh at how weird they are. But this time, she’s looking at me like, you want to talk about dreams, now?

“Were you lucid?” she says eventually. I nod.

“Because it’s Halloween,” I say, as if that explains it. “I wanted to do something spooky. For fun.” So I’d thought, let’s try eating souls. It’s all just pretend, of course, it’s all just a game in my head – but it’s in all the stories, so why not? All kinds of monsters and demons eat them, but what’s that like? What do they taste like? I’d always wondered. I thought it would be fun to see what my dreams came up with. Something surprising, for sure, something we could laugh about afterwards – but when I’d summoned some characters in the dream, it was my neighbours who’d turned up, and that made me pause. I don’t ever dream about them. But I’d gone through with it anyway – I’d phased my hands into their chests, pulled out the glowing masses of their souls, and slurped them down. I can’t even begin to describe the taste.

And in the morning, my neighbours were all dead.

I do weird stuff like this in my dreams all the time. That’s half the fun of being a lucid dreamer, right? I can do anything I like in there – or, well, anything I can persuade the dream to let me do; I’m not good enough yet to do anything anything – but I’m getting there. I can try out powers I’ve seen in films, play a part in stories I like, fight monsters, destroy planets – and all with zero consequences, because:

“And, what, you think you actually ate their souls? It’s a dream, Sue, it’s not real. You tell me that all the time.”

I nod. “Then how am I still alive? If it was something in the water, or a gas leak, or I don’t know – I’d be dead too. How can I be the only one still alive?”

“Maybe it was something they all ate?” she says.

“And this morning,” I go on, “I felt great, like really great. Full of energy, full of ideas – like I could do anything. I still do. Even here.” In fact I’ve been trying to stop myself grinning the whole time. This is not the place for that.

Ellen gives me a long, hard look, and squeezes my hand. “Stop tormenting yourself. Survivors’ guilt is a thing, you know that. You didn’t eat their souls. You don’t even believe in souls.”

I nod again. She’s right, of course.

A policewoman comes over. She’s wearing a black coat.

“Ms Tanner?” she says. “Come with me, please.”

Ellen gives me another look, gentler this time, and then we’re apart. The policewoman takes me to the far corner of the room.

“That was quite a feast you had,” she says.

This is so not what I’m expecting, it takes me a moment to respond.

“You mean my dreams? Did you hear us?”

She gives me a grim smile. “No – but you dream so loudly, half the city would know if I wasn’t shielding you.”

“Is this a joke?” I say. That conversation was between me and Ellen! “What’s this got to do with anything?”

“Everything,” she says. “There’s power in your dreams.”

“Look, I know I’m weird,” I say, “but… it’s just lucid dreaming. It’s all in my head.”

“For most people that’s true. But you aren’t most people, are you? You’ve made quite the mess. We knew you’d break through on your own sooner or later, but we didn’t expect it to happen like this…”

But I’m not listening. The people around me have caught my attention. There’s something moving inside them. I can’t see it, but I can tell it’s there. When I focus, it starts moving towards me—

She snaps her fingers in my face. “Stop that! What, do you want to kill everyone here, too?” She glares, and almost to herself, “You’ve broken through hard if you can already do that awake.”

I stare at her, and at the people. “Were those souls?” She nods. “But I don’t even believe in souls,” I say, weakly, while in my head is: oh shit. Worse, knowing they’re there is making me hungry. Susan Tanner, devourer of souls – that has quite the ring to it.

But I glance around, and say, quietly, “You’re saying I did kill them? What if someone hears—”

She shakes her head. “No one will. I’m taking care of that.”

No one is looking at us. In fact, no one has looked our way the whole time, like they’ve forgotten we’re even here.

“You’ve broken through the barriers,” she says. “Everything you can do in the dream, you’ll eventually be able to do out here – and you’re nowhere near your full potential, even in the dream.”

I’m still at: I killed them? Eventually I catch up. “That’s impossible,” I say. All of this is impossible. Those can’t have been souls, I just imagined it. But I can still feel them there, and if I just focus—

“Hey, stay with me,” she says. Oh. Right. “You don’t believe me? Change something.”

“What?”

“Change something, like you would in the dream.”

I stare at her black coat, and will it to be green – and it is. For a moment I wonder if I’m still dreaming. I do half a dozen reality checks, and they all fail. Which means either I’m still in the dream, and my mind is really messing with me – or I’m awake. Something people often don’t understand about learning to lucid dream is that the whole practice is based on being able to tell dreams from reality. We get really good at telling which state we’re in. And everything here is telling me this is not a dream.

I still feel completely, unreasonably great, despite everything, even though she’s just told me I’m, what? A murderer? Or at the very least, that I killed a bunch of people by accident.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” she says. “Soul euphoria’s quite the thing. There’s nothing quite like digesting the essence of another person to cheer you up. Just don’t go making a habit of it, OK?”

Has she just read my mind?

“I’ve been reading your mind for years, Ms Tanner, watching you learn in your dreams. It’s lucky I found you first – you’d have made a tasty morsel for someone, with potential like that.”

I flip the colour of the lights on the roof from white to red to blue. I make a potted plant on the other side of the room rise a few centimetres off the ground. It’s easy. Telekinesis, too? Shit. That grin has broken through, now, and I can’t help it.

“You’re not with the police, are you?” I say at last.

“Smart one.”

“So what happens now?”

“You come with me,” she says. “It’s time for your training to really begin.”

“But what about the police? The… deaths? What about Ellen?”

“Don’t worry,” she says, “I’ve taken care of that. They won’t remember you were ever here.”

There’s something in the way she says it: she doesn’t mean here, in the police station, she means here, at all. That I ever existed. I glance at Ellen. This woman has just taken away my best friend. She’s taken away my whole life. But because of those souls I ate, I still feel totally, overwhelmingly great. I can’t wipe the smile off my face. Turns out you can feel wonderful and horrified at the same time – but the horror is such a small part of it that I can’t keep my mind on it for long. I just feel too damn good.

How long will this euphoria last? And how hard will I crash when it goes away?

But I can’t think about that now – literally can’t, my soul-drunk emotions are too overpowering – can’t think about what I’ve lost, or the implications of what I’ve done. All I can think about is power, and dreams, and adventure. So when she gestures and opens a portal, I grin harder, and don’t look back, and follow her through.

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