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xhaotixaesthetica · 5 years ago

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Yandere Ateez Headcanons

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READ THE TRIGGER WARNING: This post contains mentions and discussion of abusive relationships, threats, violence, death, supernatural creatures, depression, self-harm, disturbing sexual themes and mental illness. The behaviors and relationships depicted below are abusive and unhealthy. These are not examples of healthy relationships, it’s actually the opposite. This is meant to imagine the members of Ateez in a popular anime trope and it in no way represents their real-life personalities and characters. It’s fiction, it’s for fun, PLEASE DON’T READ IT IF YOU KNOW YOU WON’T LIKE IT OR THIS KIND OF STUFF DISTURBS YOU!

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Hongjoong

The Perfect Boyfriend

Kim Hongjoong seems like the perfect man and in the beginning, he would be. But it’s an act. Seonghwa and Hongjoong are actually very similar. They both feel little to no emotion and that’s part of why they’re such good friends. But Hongjoong is different from Seonghwa in that he feels desire, but only for one thing. Control. Hongjoong hates feeling small or weak and he gets off on having complete mastery of a situation. Hongjoong is very much aware that his size is the first thing people see and he overcompensates for that in every single way. Think of Christian Bale’s role in American Psycho, except Hongjoong is actually attractive and very manipulative.

Hongjoong would sweep you off your feet, bringing you flowers and food, giving you compliments, being your shoulder to lean on, reading your mood perfectly and always knowing what you want and being available to give it to you. Hongjoong’s control over your life would happen so gradually that you probably wouldn’t even realize until it’s too late. You’ve quit your job, you depend on him financially, your friends are friends with him, your parents love him, whenever something’s wrong they tell him. Hongjoong is everywhere in your life without ever having to be anywhere.

Hongjoong’s best feature is that he’s not delusional. He knows what society expects of you as a couple and he makes sure you two follow that image exactly. He wants everyone to see how good he is for you, how much of an amazing boyfriend he is, his ego won’t tolerate anything else. You have friends because it would be an insult for him if he wasn’t able to control you without eliminating all outside forces. You can still see your parents because it’s expected of you, because he can’t stand if they thought anything bad of him.

He feels literally nothing for you, for a long time. He might think you’re cute and you might amuse him sometimes but that’s about it. But he damn sure won’t let you go and he won’t let anyone else touch him, only because it’s the principle of the thing for him.

Hongjoong does not see you as a person, he sees you as an object, a trained pet. The only reason he doesn’t cheat is because what kind of man would he be if he didn’t have mastery over his sexual urges? He can’t cheat on you and have people think he’s less than perfect.

Hongjoong has an obnoxiously long list of rules that he expects you to follow to the letter and if you don’t you will be punished. Hongjoong doesn’t necessarily enjoy physical punishments, but he doesn’t have a problem with them. He does what he feels is necessary to teach you to obey, nothing more, nothing less. Hongjoong’s lack of feelings toward you will really become evident in times like these, because he has no issue with beating you within an inch of your life and will feel no sympathy afterward. Depending on his mood, he’ll either be amused or disgusted at how weak he finds you and will say things like, “You’re going to leave me when you’re this pathetic? You need me, love. This is your fault, if you weren’t such a moron and knew how to follow simple instructions, I wouldn’t have had to do this.”

A sure-fire way to make your punishment worse is to make a scene or disobey him in public where there’s a risk of tarnishing his reputation. Hongjoong is very good at putting on the big teary eyes, and the hurt puppy dog look so he actually gets all the sympathy, but trust me, he’s not hurt, he’s pissed and the minute you get behind closed doors, he’s going to unleash hell on you.

Hongjoong is unique in that he wouldn’t develop any actual emotional attachment for a long time, possibly years. For all the other members, it’s pretty much an instantaneous thing, but for Hongjoong, it takes time, and there’s no particular reason, it just does. There’s nothing you can do to speed up this process, but following all his dumbass rules will make the process way less unpleasant.

However, it is just a matter of time. He’s guaranteed to feel something for you at some point, there’s just no guessing when that will be.

THIS IS NOT A GOOD THING.

I don’t think he’ll be any more lenient on you after he falls for you, but at the very least he might give you some sort of aftercare, after a punishment.

He will add more rules though and he’s more possessive and jealous now. By this time, you’ve probably learned his rules so well that punishments will be little to none once you get used to the new ones. You’ll start seeing your friends and family less as he desires to keep your presence around more, but you’ll still see them enough that it can just be chalked up to the busy lives that come with age.

He won’t be sorry for anything he ever put you through either. In his eyes, it was all his discipline and punishments that let you evolve from a lowly pet to someone worthy of him spending the rest of his life with.

“See, love? I told you I would make you happy one day.”

Seonghwa

The Ice King

Park Seonghwa has never been able to remember feeling any emotion. Not love, not happiness, not anger, not hate, not curiosity, not anything. He went through life, following instructions, and becoming the pinnacle of success all at his parent’s and relative's own bidding. He had never had any desire before, so never felt the need to rebel against their wishes, completely fine with letting his family push him so hard so he could graduate early and be leading a successful company by the young age of twenty-one.

I see you being his personal assistant or something.

Unlike his friend Hongjoong, the minute Seonghwa saw you, something broke inside him. He didn’t just feel something, he felt everything, and only for you. Seonghwa has no damn idea of how people work, so he just assumes that you feel the same. He expects that you belong to each other the minute you met and the only reason he doesn’t say anything is because it doesn't even cross his mind that he has to. He expects you to know who you belong to and, in his mind, everything about you is his. He thinks the feelings that he felt for you were so strong and instantaneous, that there’s absolutely no way you didn’t feel them too.

In Seonghwa’s mind, the minute you walked through the damn door, you both were in a committed relationship.

However, despite all the feelings that well up inside him when he looks at you, he’ll treat you like everyone else without even knowing it. He’s just as frigid and monotoned, eyes just as dead. He doesn’t look at you or talk to you more than normal or more than necessary.

Seonghwa thinks that tiny ass things like letting his gaze linger on you for two seconds more than usual or using your name when he refers to you or letting you walk in front of him or giving two compliments on your work in a day as opposed to none are obvious signs of PDA, but they’re things that everyone else, even you, don’t think twice about.

The only thing out of the ordinary besides his intense internal obsession is that Seonghwa hires someone to watch you.

He thinks it’s normal, practical even. You’re the “girlfirend” of a powerful man, he has plenty of enemies in rival companies who would love to hurt him and people who would take those he holds dear for ransom so he thinks you should have protection. He doesn’t realize that, even though those things are true, you would literally never be targeted because his displays of affection are so undetectable that no one knows he cares about you.

But this bodyguard doesn’t just protect you. He reports everything, even your smallest actions to Seonghwa. Not just where you’re going or what you’re doing, it’s creepy shit like what color underwear you put on, what position you were sitting in when you watched tv, what body part you washed first in the shower, weird shit like that. He wants to know everything about you, wants to be able to fantasize about you down to the most minute, accurate detail.

You’ll only realize something’s wrong when you’re supposed to go on a date one weekend.

Being Seonghwa’s assistant keeps you pretty busy. A CEO is pretty much a never-ending job and even when he travels, you’re normally with him to assist him. Despite having nothing but a work relationship, you’re actually rarely without him without even realizing it. You don’t mind at all Seonghwa has never been less than courteous to you, if a little cold, but he’d like that with everyone. Besides you get benefits like insurance, a 401K, a “company” car, and tons of other stuff (that none of his other assistants have ever had) along with an outstanding by the hour salary with glorious pay for overtime and traveling with him. Still, the one thing you don’t normally get is free time which is why you were pretty happy to have some time off.

Your date is supposed to pick you up at six but the clock hits seven and they’re a no-show. You’re starting to think you’ve been stood up and you don’t know the person so you’re not particularly upset, just annoyed that you wasted all that time and energy getting ready to go out. You’re about to change into your nightclothes and call it a night when your door suddenly opens and Seonghwa stalks in, key in hand like he lives there.

There’s a flurry of questions in your head. How did he get that key, why is he here, what the hell is happening?

But all of them die down when you notice the spatters of blood on his clothes and your blood turns cold.

Seonghwa doesn’t understand what you were doing by setting up the date. Why were you going to cheat on him? Were you trying to make him jealous? Did you want him to prove his love for you?

He’ll only learn that this isn’t the way relationships work when you tell him and even then, he won’t care.

He feels that he’s in too deep, he needs you, he can’t let you go.

Seonghwa won’t particularly blame you for hating him at first, but he won’t let you go and he’ll use the threat of ruining you and all your loved one’s reputations if you try and make a scene in public or tell someone what he’s doing.

For the most part, he lets you be, as long as you’re in the house. Even though he wants you to touch and love him, he doesn’t feel the need to force you and wants you to do it in your own time.

For the most part, Seonghwa doesn’t really punish you. He’ll kind of just stand there, dead-eyed and let the insults roll off him, might even walk away to do something else, or do some work while you scream at him.

Even when you flirt with someone else or someone hits on you, he’ll kill the person in cold-blood or have them assassinated, but he won’t do anything to you. The only thing you can do to piss him off is tell him that you hate him or, ironically, tell him how cold he is.

Seonghwa absolutely cannot take the thought of you hating him. Disliking him, he can understand. He’s done things that he would never forgive anyone for if they did to him and he has hope that your dislike will go away with time. But hate is eternal for him. When he hates people, he kills them. Do you want to hurt him?

He can’t stand it when you call him cold because to him, it means he’s not enough. He doesn’t express his affection in a normal way and he only cares about you, but he thinks that he’d proven himself to you by doing things for you that no one else would. Things that he’d never do for anyone else. He feels like he can’t even breathe when he sees you, and you have the nerve to call him cold?

I don’t see Seonghwa ever physically hurting you like Hongjoong, I see him isolating you. A dark room with no windows, no smells, no sounds, no sights, nothing. It feels like hell.

To Seonghwa, this is what it feels like without you and he wants to condition you to associate a lack of his presence with this feeling of dark, suffocating nothingness. Even if it takes a long time, it probably ends up working. There’s only so much the human mind can take.

“I killed them for you. You’re all that I care about and I won’t let anyone get in the way of that.”

Yunho

The Damsel in Distress Next Door

Yeosang and Yunho’s headcanons might be shorter and more normal than the other ones cause it’s even harder for me to see them as yanderes than it is for Mingi.

Jung Yunho seems like a normal college student. He plays video games and procrastinates his homework, has trouble remembering to pay his rent on time and probably wouldn’t be able to pay it if it wasn’t for Hongjoong and Seonghwa, once set the stove on fire trying to make ramen, and has an emotional breakdown whenever he sees a puppy or a baby.

Anyone you asked would say that Yunho is the most lovable, gentle, caring boy they had ever met. He just needs to be a little more confident in himself.

They don’t know the half of it.

If there’s one person in the world that Yunho hates, it’s himself. He is incredibly suicidal and self-harming, it’s a testament to his good acting that people don’t know how much he needs a therapist or something.

You meet puppy-boy when you move into the apartment next to his, the last one on the hall.

He’s coming home from getting a few groceries when he sees you moving your stuff in. He’s in his senior year of college, one semester away from a degree, though you’re just a junior, a transfer student who is more than nervous about switching unis so late into your college career.

Yunho is your first friend. From the minute he saw you, he was hooked, it was like he met an angel. You were so nice to him and you genuinely cared about him. Not only that, but you seemed to actually need him around.

Yunho was used to being a burden, someone others coddled and took care of, so it was refreshing when you asked him to help you study or show you around or carry heavy things up the stairs or reach things on the top shelf. He was quickly becoming wrapped around your thumb, he lived for taking care of you. It gave him purpose.

In real life, Ateez has stated before how Yunho likes to care of those around them and brighten their day, make them laugh, make them happy and all that. This would be Yandere!Yunho’s defining characteristic along with his suicidal tendencies.

It’s hard not to develop a crush on Yunho and eventually, you ask him out. And even though he loves you more than life itself, he hesitates.

He feels like he has to tell you about the way he feels about life and the things he does to himself before he can feel secure in a romantic relationship with you.

When you still want to date him, he’s genuinely stunned. That’s when his obsession really begins. He’s found someone that he can take care of but that also wants to take care of and help him and won’t leave him? He thinks he would be stupid to ever let go of that.

Most of the Ateez yanderes have a unique quality about them I’m making them sound like limited edition Pokemon. Hongjoong’s is his delayed affection, Seonghwa’s is his coldness, Mingi’s is his fiery persona, San’s is his duality, and Yunho’s is the fact that he would never ever be a danger to you or others.

He punishes you by punishing himself.

While I do think that Yunho would be the most objectively easy Ateez yandere to escape from, I do think that it would be the hardest to leave him mentally.

You have an attachment to him, you love him, and you can tell he loves you too. But he’s still unbelievably toxic and exhausting.

Yunho will start shirking off responsibilities for you very quickly, flaking out on friends and school and work, just to be at your beck and call and bend over backward for you.

To a certain extent, he expects you to do the same. When you're spending more time with friends or family or work or homework, Yunho’s going to get upset and he’s going to think that he’s doing something wrong and you’re starting to lose feelings. He’s going to punish himself for that and it’s not going to be pretty.

You might not catch on to his habit at first and he doesn’t want you to feel guilty so he’s going to make an effort to hide it from you, but you’ll find out eventually.

It starts taking over your life. You see friends less, forget about responsibilities, and even have trouble sleeping because you’re so worried about him. And because you’re spending even more time with him, the time-frame that you have to spend by yourself becomes smaller and smaller cause he’s so used to having you around.

Even if you bring him with you, he’ll overthink everything. He’ll remember how good-looking your friends are, how much he doesn’t fit your parent's standards, how he couldn’t help you with a certain problem on your homework and he’ll punish himself for it all the minute he’s alone. No matter how much time passes, he’ll always keep these things in his mind and waste no time hurting himself for them.

It makes you not only terrified to leave, but also hyperaware of everything that’s happening when you two are out in public, always ready to give him reassurance. It’s terrifying and exhausting and one day, you bring up the idea of breaking up.

Yunho takes it well, much better than you think he would. He says that he understands and that, even though he loves you, he hopes you find someone to make you happy and give you what you deserve.

But you have a bad feeling in your stomach and it’s only a few hours later, that you’re bursting into his apartment, screaming his name.

There’s no answer and the lights are all off and the adrenaline is pumping through your body so fast, you feel like you might start imploding.

Yunho’s in the bathroom and...it’s not a pretty sight.

His stint in the hospital would have been short if it weren’t for the fact that he needed so many stitches and blood transfusions.

He’s there long enough to get better physically, but his eyes are glassy and he doesn’t talk or move, not even with you. The doctors say it's not anything physical, nothing they can find, and they let you take him home when he’s strong enough because maybe the hospital is making it worse.

He still doesn’t do anything. He’ll use the bathroom if you sit him on the toilet, he’ll chew and swallow if you put food in his mouth, he’ll drink if you put a straw to his lips, but that’s about all you’re going to get out of him.

A week after he gets out of the hospital, you come home and Yunho’s...gone. You left him on the couch, but he’s not there anymore.

You drop everything in your hands and you’re about to fear the worse until he runs out of the kitchen, asking what the noise was and if you were ok. He’s in different clothes than you left him in and the smell of take-out fills the air. How long has he been like this?

You and Yunho eat pizza and he’s so busy chattering that he doesn’t notice that you’re too stunned and scared to touch most of your food, watching him carefully.

He’s acting completely normal, like he was when you first became friends.

You wonder if he even remembers the past couple weeks or if he’s putting on a ruse so he can try and kill himself again when you leave him alone. You’re almost too scared to bring it up in case it sets him off.

Eventually, you settle on, “Yunho, I want to get back together, I’m sorry for what I said.”

Yunho gives you a strange look.

“When did we break up?”

Yeosang

The Secret Serial Killer

Kang Yeosang is very misleading. He tends to wear a lot of dark clothes and has a resting bitch face and he’s very shy though it comes off as being aloof and arrogant. That’s not what he earned his bad-boy reputation for though, even if those things do help to reinforce it.

Yeosang earned that reputation through the only fight he’s even been in on campus. It’s unsure how the fight started or what happened, but by the time it finished, everyone was crowded around to see Yeosang pulverize the other guy.

He broke five ribs which punctured a lung, took a chunk of the guy’s left ear, knocked out several teeth, and completely shattered both kneecaps and his left ankle, effectively ending the guy’s promising athletic career and making him need walking assistance for the rest of his life.

Mingi and Jongho were the only witnesses to the start of the fight and they claim the other guy started it. Most people believe them, just because Mingi isn’t known for lying since he knows people are so scared of him that he doesn't really have to. Also, Yeosang had a decent amount of injuries too. A broken arm, swollen lip, black eye, and fractured rip substantiated what Mingi and Jonho claimed. But, if anything, that made Yeosang even scarier. The arm that was broken was the one he’d used to beat the guy up, how could he be capable of such things when he was so hurt?

No one ever tried to bother Yeosang after that and he never got in another fight which made people think that the guy really did start it, even if Yeosang was still scary.

Yeosang enjoys skateboarding, video games, and flying his drones and it’s while he’s in the park doing the latter that he first spots you walking your pet.

Yeosang stalks you from that moment onward.

He won’t be like Yunho and blow off all his responsibilities to be near you, but he will use all of his free time and carve out a little extra where he can to follow you. Since I’m not a stalker and I have a short ass attention span, so I can’t for the life of me begin to explain why it brings him so much genuine enjoyment to just do nothing but watch you for hours at a time but it does.

He’ll spend about a year watching you and learning every single thing he can about you before he comes into your life like your very own Prince Charming on a white skateboard. You’ll fall for him hard and fast. He’s kind, caring, understanding, and seems to just instantly know you better than you know yourself.

He’s just as clingy as Mingi, and he’s more lenient with you, but it’s more because he puts you on this high pedestal that the rest of humanity is nowhere near. He and Jongho are similar in that they think their S/O is a god/dess that can do no wrong.

It’s always someone else’s fault, never yours.

Yeosang will take you on cute dates and teach you to skateboard and play video games and let you win cause he’s whipped. You’re in love and you think everything’s going perfect.

Because Yeosang’s yandere trademark is that he will be the only one who will make an effort to hide what he is from you.

He is sneaky and you’ll probably never know how sick and fucked up he is.

Yandere!Yeosang likes killing. He likes making someone pay when he thinks they’ve wronged you or your relationship. It gives him a rush of adrenaline and power that nothing can compare to. He’ll purposefully go out and show you off on dates, just to have an excuse to murder everyone he thinks is looking at you longer than necessary.

He’ll get away with it too. He’s friends with Seonghwa, who makes all his seven friend’s problems magically disappear.

Yandere!Yeosang may seem better than the others, because he never displays his toxicity toward you but he might actually be one of the worse ones because he’s a complete serial killer.

“Thank you for being by my side, baby. You’re the only one that’s ever made me feel this way.”

San

The Jekyll and Hyde

Alright, I’m soft as fuck for this adorable sweetheart, it’s gonna take all I got to write him like this.

OK, so firstly.

Choi San is the most two-faced ass bitch you’ve ever met in your life. I mean, seriously. San’s duality is already scary but Yandere San would be on another level, his yandere side came completely out of left field.

San’s first side, the side that you will see for the first few months of your relationship, is his sweet, bubbly, cute side. Both sides of San are hyper and energetic, but this side is also caring and sweet and kind. He’s funny and loves playing games and making people laugh. He’s a social butterfly and has tons of friends and he’s really sensitive and easy to start crying. He’s almost like a child.

Ironically, he also likes reading and watching mukbang videos in silence.

Then there’s his other side. In your head, you refer to him as Other San, because he’s just so different from the regular one. San doesn’t have dissociative identity disorder. Other San isn’t a different personality, and no matter whether he’s being San or Other San, he knows everything he’s done and there are no gaps in his memory.

At one point, you even asked him if he’d ever played around with Ouija Boards or anything demonic and took him to a priest to make sure.

Demonic possession made even more sense than his extreme ass mood swings.

Other San is seductive, hot-headed, sultry, and aggressive. His movements are jerkier and his voice is raspier and the cadence and flow of his speech even changes. But he’s not a different personality and that’s what’s so scary.

San as a whole is very temperamental and emotionally unstable. You’ll be constantly walking on eggshells around him. He can change from San to Other San in the blink of an eye, with literally no warning. Sometimes, he’ll change to Other San for only a few seconds before going back to normal.

Though he almost always turns into Other San when he’s mad, he’ll turn into Other San at completely random times as well.

You CANNOT treat Other San like you do Regular San. He doesn’t want to be babied when he’s in that mode and he will make that very clear.

Regular San is unbearably clingy. He’ll follow you wherever you go and he’ll cry if you don’t give him enough attention.

Other San is down for physically punishing you when you displease him and there are no set rules as to what you should do to keep him happy. With Other San, you can do something that he’s totally fine with and then ten minutes later, you’ll do the exact same thing in the exact same way and he’ll get pissed at you for it.

Like Yandere!Yeosang, both Regular and Other San enjoy killing people. But unlike Yeosang, Yandere!San was a serial killer long before you came into the picture.

“Y/N, why were you talking to him? I told you I don’t like him! Why do you like hurting me?” San sobbed before his body froze. You gulped, your hands, which were previously trying to comfort him, were now pulled away. San wiped the tears from his face before he looked at you, eyes dark and voice rough as he said, “That’s ok, baby. I like hurting you too.”

Mingi

The Clingy Bad Boy

Song Mingi is one of the toughest cases for me. It’s very very hard for me to see him as a yandere at all. Like period. He’s so chill all the time, and I think this would translate to Yandere!Mingi.

He would largely let you do what you want. Go to school, go to work, have friends, etc. The catch? He has to be by your side at all times. Mingi is the resident bad boy at your university. He goes to class because he pays for it, but he smokes, drinks, wears leather jackets, gets into fights, and is generally an asshole. Unlike Yeosang, he’s not quiet at all. He’s loud, fiery, opinionated, aggressive, and hostile. Mingi just seems to have always been filled with this destructive inferno of unquenchable fury at the world for even daring to bring him into existence. His friends made him calm down a little, enjoy life a little more but it’s not the same.

It’s not the same as when he met you.

Yandere!Mingi seems like the type to go for a soft, sweet S/O and when he saw you, he was hooked. Your softness makes him have a little compassion for the world, a little hope that it’s not so bad after all. He knew he was bad, a dark influence on you, but he didn’t care in the slightest. He didn’t want you to be tainted by anyone but him.

Mingi feeds off of your innocence and happiness, which is why he lets you do what you want for the most part. He just doesn’t tolerate anyone looking at you in a less than friendly way. He doesn’t kill, he’s not like Yeosang. He doesn’t have to. He’s not opposed to it, but he would much rather beat your suitors within an inch of their lives and be able to forever take pride in the terror that appears on their faces whenever they see you two again.

Even though he’s lenient about friends, it doesn’t really matter. Mingi creeps your friends the fuck out.

He’s always glued to your side and even though he doesn’t stop you from interacting with them or call for your attention, he just sits there and glares. They’ve never even heard him talk unless it’s to you or his friends.

Because Mingi considers himself to give you so much freedom, he will get all the more upset if you do something that he thinks is out of bounds in your relationship. He thinks it’s disrespectful that he “gives” you so much and you repay him by doing things you know he hates. Mingi’s punishments are going to revolve around sex and humiliation. He’s a hormonal ass teenager and something about seeing his sweet innocent S/O being humiliated by him makes him go feral. I can almost guarantee that you won’t be enjoying these punishments, cause not only would they be physically painful, his degradation would be things that he knows are going to hit you hard emotionally. The number one thing you can do to piss him off and get punished is leaving him by himself. He pretty much doesn’t give a damn what you do as long as you’re together and he doesn’t give a fuck how suffocating his presence is, that’s not more important to him than his need for you.

Mingi needs to be in your presence at all times, it keeps him sane. He thinks you’re like the fire extinguisher to that blazing sun that burns inside his sick mind. You once went away on a school trip for two days and you came back to the entire apartment trashed, stuff was thrown all over the floors, holes in the walls, scratches on the hardwood floors. Mingi didn’t say anything, just stalked over to you silently, knuckles dripping with blood and eyes feral, body trembling with rage. It was the first time that the realization of how big he was, how strong he was, absolutely terrified you. Even his voice, usually loud and boisterous was monotoned and dead, a stark contrast to his murderous eyes.

“Don’t leave me again.”

It’s not a request.

Wooyoung

The Incubus

Jung Wooyoung is a demon.

I’m not kidding, Yandere!Wooyoung is a literal demon. An incubus, to be exact.

Even though Yandere!San and Yeosang are literal serial killers and Yandere!Hongjoong’s a spouse-beating jackass, I just KNOW Wooyoung’s gonna be the one that pisses y’all off the most.

Because Wooyoung cheats. He will literally fuck like three people a day, and no matter how he feels about you or how close you two get, that will never change. He won’t feel bad or guilty for it either. He’ll enjoy each and every fuck and you’re nowhere on his mind when he screams out the other person’s name and finds his release in them.

Wooyoung doesn’t see what his feelings have to do with his sex life and he thinks that you, a lowly human, should be grateful he has any interest in you in the first place.

Since Wooyoung is a supernatural being, he could theoretically just kidnap you and be done with it, but that’s not fun for him.

He plagues your dreams for weeks before he starts showing up in real life. Sometimes, he’ll make sure that only you see him, so people will think you’ve lost it and it can ruin your credibility when you start screaming at him. Sometimes he’ll appear to you in the disguise of other horrific-looking demons so that you think he’s not so bad after all.

He wants to be the only one you can turn to. Him being a demon and all, I don’t see you standing a chance really.

It’ll be easy for him to get inside your head and make you trust and love him, completely willing to ignore how cruel he is to you.

Wooyoung likes for you to be the one chasing him. That’ll be his favorite part of this whole thing. Once he’s broken you, his favorite punishments will be to either ignore you or to make you watch while he fucks someone else and then prove you can please him better afterward.

Yandere!Wooyoung will probably kill people too, now that I think about it. He’d use it as a tool to make you submit to him more and it’s foolproof because he’s a demon. You can’t tell the police and he could easily fabricate evidence that points to you being the killer.

Like I said, since he’s a demon, you don’t have a chance in hell, excuse the pun.

“Always remember, love, you’re only alive because I want you to be. So you better be good for me, hmm?”

Jongho

The Overprotective Guard Dog

Jongho is gonna be absolutely devoted to you. Seriously, if people didn’t know any better, they’d think he was your bodyguard or your servant or something.

Whether you’re older or younger doesn’t matter, he sees you as a divine being and his purpose is to protect and worship you. He thinks other people are disgusting for not seeing how perfect and ethereal you are.

And that means they don’t deserve to live.

I picture Jongho as being exactly like Yuno Gasai from Mirai Nikki. Anyone who’s watched that anime or knows yandere knows that she is the Yandere Queen and the epitome of the whole trope.

For a large part, you and Jongho would be a normal couple. You might go to different classes and work but you always meet up for meals and come home to your shared apartment at the end of the day. He makes you laugh and he’s doting and sweet.

It’s not yourself or him that he has to worry about. It’s other people.

Jongho takes it upon himself to kill, hurt, maim, or terrorize anyone who hurts you. This could be in the form of people who actually physically hurt you, people who bully or disrespect you, or just people who look at you wrong.

If the person is of better use to you alive, then he’ll just hurt or scare them. If not then they’re dead meat.

Jongho doesn’t really enjoy killing, he actually finds it gross, but he won’t think twice about doing it when it comes to you.

Jongho is the only yandere that wouldn’t mind not being your lover. He would prefer to be, but he just wants the honor of being near you, making you happy, and protecting you, in whatever role he can.

Your happiness is the most important to him and if someone else makes you happy then you will have them. Even if they don’t like you back, Jongho will force them to be with you so that you can be happy and they better not ever say anything about his involvement.

He’d be your best friend and really good at acting normal so you probably wouldn’t believe them anyway.

“Your smile is gorgeous, Y/N. I’ll do anything to see it.”

The Asteroid Belt

#yandere #yandere ateez #yandere kpop #yandere hongjoong #yandere seonghwa #yandere yunho #yandere yeosang #yandere san #yandere mingi #yandere wooyoung #yandere jongho #yandere headcanons #asteroid belt

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beanie-beebo-writes · 4 years ago

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Faith Pt.II

Category: Oneshot; genfic

Summary: Another life saved, another lost. Day in and day out it's the same for the Winchesters. Continuation of the episode from s1, Faith

In the life of a hunter, you couldn't have connections. Ties to the normal civilian life meant putting others at risk. Sam and Dean knew this, but nothing would stop them from feeling connected to the people they saved. Every once in a while, an opening would come up between hunts. Giving them the perfect opportunity to catch up on the lives of those they saved, however they could. Usually it was through local papers; it was safer that way. Calling meant the connection would still be there, and opened the possibility of a blossoming partnership.

One early summer afternoon, Sam and Dean had settled back into their chintzy motel room. Their previous hunt had consisted of nothing more than a measly vamp infestation, but still nonetheless grueling. It was enough to make Dean want to sleep for a few days after a nice, hot shower.

"I wish more hunts were this easy." Dean said, plopping onto the nearest bed.

"Yeah, you're telling me." Sam said, failing to observe Dean was on his bed. "Alright, I don't know about you, but I need a shower. I can still smell that last vamp we took out, perfume included."

"Bathroom's all yours. I need a breather, maybe a nap. Just don't use up all the hot water, Frieda." Dean said.

Sam rolled his eyes before shutting the bathroom door with a huff. Dean gave himself an approving nudge on the shoulder and smirked.

"Dean 1, Sam 0." Dean muttered to himself triumphantly.

He momentarily began to doze, but it wasn't long before his thoughts got the better of him. It had now been almost two months since his father chose to sacrifice his own life for Dean. He still couldn't wrap his head around it all, of what exactly happened and why his father seemingly gave up so easily. He wondered exactly what could have been going through his mind when he did what he did. There were so many unanswered questions, ones he would probably never get the answers for. The likely deal his father made to save him was just as much of a knee-jerk choice as Sam going to that faith healer that one time. How desperate was his father to make such a choice?

Dean still remembered the look on Sam's face when he found out his brother had drawn the short straw, from that hunt not too long ago. He never was good at hiding how he really felt, not from Dean anyway. The hurt shone brightly in his younger brother's unshed tears, and it was obvious the only reason Sam brought him to the faith healer was out of desperation. But deciphering his father's true intent was like trying to focus a laser on a minnow in murky water.

Had Death whispered in his ear, or was he really so far out of options? Dean paused as the image of the reaper coming after him in Nebraska came to him. He shuddered as the memory clashed with his father's final moments.

Dean opened his eyes and sat up, suddenly feeling sick. A knot formed in his stomach for a completely different reason as a face wedged itself to the front of his mind.

He almost reluctantly opened up Sam's laptop and went through Ford City's past few obituary sections in the local papers.

There had been so much going on, he hadn't recently checked in on any previous hunt survivors. Guilt seeped deep into his heart. Last time they had talked, she had months left to live.

Sure enough, in the second most recent newspaper was Layla's face, sticking out like a sore thumb.

"Layla Rourke; beloved daughter, niece, granddaughter, and friend to many passed away Thursday, June 29th 2006. Services will be held Friday, July 7th at Munderloh Funeral Home from 1pm to 3pm and 5pm to 7pm."

Dean's stomach dropped. Another name to add to the list of the people who he didn't save, once again. He almost wanted to laugh, the last conversation they ever had, involved faith. Where was this so-called God now? Where was He whenever good people needed it most? It was easier to believe that a God never existed than to get his hopes crushed every time a life drained away, at his stupid expense nonetheless. Yet, the people who still believed, got their hopes crushed in the end. Dean only wished he knew how to feel.

"Hey, you okay?"

Dean turned around to a fully dressed Sam, fresh out of the shower.

"Uh, do you remember Layla? The chick who was at that faith healing session?" Dean asked.

Sam huffed in amusement. "Yeah, I definitely remember. Why?"

"She uh, her funeral is this week." Dean said.

"Oh.." Sam said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Wow, um. I'm sorry to hear that."

"I think I'm gonna head up to Nebraska, you good for a few days?" Dean asked.

"You sure you don't want me to come with? I'll be fine, but I know how much that last conversation…" Sam trailed off.

Dean clenched his jaw. "I need to do this by myself, Sam. I'll be fine."

"Alright, just let me know if anything comes up." Sam said. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but-"

"You're always there, blah blah. I know. Enough touchy feely crap, I'm headed out." Dean retorted.

"And Dean?"

Dean turned around, a hard glare set in his eyes.

"Just be careful."

Dean slammed the hotel door behind him in frustration, roared the Impala's engine, and sped off towards Ford City.

Dean pulls into a decent sized parking lot, thankfully while all the other grievers seem to be heading away for intermission. He takes a swig of whiskey and exhales roughly before heading inside the nearly empty funeral home to pay his respects. After finding his way to the correct viewing room, he comes across a shorter woman standing by the casket, blocking his view of Layla. He hangs off to the side out of sight, waiting until she is ready to leave the room.

"You can come up, if you wish. I won't be too long." She says.

"It's alright. You take your time." Dean says.

"You're not bothering me, hun. I don't bite." She responds.

He takes up the invitation; Dean figures it probably wouldn't hurt to give her some company.

"She really was something, wasn't she?" Dean asks.

She sniffles lightly. "Layla truly was one of a kind. One of the brightest souls I have ever had the blessing to come across."

Dean nods, taking in Layla's peaceful presence.

Brief pause. "How did you know her?" The woman asks.

"Layla.. She was kind to me even when I didn't deserve it. Even when I was for some reason chosen to be saved over her, she never held it against me. I think she even had faith for me."

"Yeah, that sounds like Layla. She didn't have a mean bone in her body. I'm Jamie, by the way; Layla's aunt."

"Nice to meet you; I'm Dean. Sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, same to you."

Another brief silence.

"You know, I may not know you, but I can tell you're worth more than you think." Jamie says.

"Sorry, but you are highly mistaken." Dean replies.

"Layla, she was a person of good faith. She only kept you around, if she felt your intentions were good. She may have been kind to everyone, but if you knew her, you also knew she wasn't one to condone ill intentions. If she had faith in or for you, you are a good person."

Dean didn't have an answer; his eyes focused on Layla.

"Did you come far?" She asks to break the tension.

"Uh, yeah," Dean finally glances back into Jamie's direction momentarily. "I was originally working in Jersey this weekend."

"Hm, now if you weren't a good person, then why did you come all this way for her?"

He stares at Layla's portrait next to the casket. He knows Jamie was trying to make a good point. Although, that point didn't condone everything he had done.

"It was nice meeting you Dean, take care." And with that she walks away, leaving Dean alone with Layla.

For a few moments, he didn't even know what to say. What could he even say? One of the last times they had been together, he stopped her from being healed. He felt so dirty, standing here when he clearly felt he shouldn't have been. It's not like his brother couldn't kill Azazel without him. Yeah, Sam would be broken without his brother, but not incapable. He would have Bobby at least. Sam survived college without him, he could have survived Dean pulling the short straw.

"Hi Layla.." Dean's voice begins to waver. "I bet I'm the last person you wanted to hear from, but.. I'm here anyway. I couldn't not say goodbye.."

Dean plays with the denim of his jeans awkwardly.

"Listen, about what happened months ago.. I need you to understand, I never wanted this to happen to you. The reason I was healed...wasn't God. Although, I'm sure if you were here, you would say so anyway. My brother brought me to Roy because... he was desperate. And.. He made a mistake. I mean, I guess if he didn't find Roy, we never would have met and I would have never saved those people.."

Dean pauses and glances behind him, making sure he was still alone.

"My brother and I, we hunt things..Unnatural things. I'm not going to explain everything but, if you were to follow us for a day, maybe you would understand. And what healed me, was something.. not natural. And God.. He wouldn't condone what it was. Now, I know I couldn't save you. But there hasn't been a day that has gone by, that I haven't regretted that. Hell, if anything, I would have traded my life for yours in a heartbeat."

Tears begin to sting his eyeline.

"Layla I.. I wish things could have been different for you. I'm sorry." He sniffled. "I know your Aunt Jamie was saying all these things about me being a good person, but.. If I was a good person, I would have let you be saved, even if it was unnatural. But me being me, I hunted the unnatural thing before you could get that chance."

Dean pauses to collect himself.

"Yeah.." He whispers to no one in particular.

He gives her a final farewell, shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, and somberly heads outside. Just after he walks out the double doors, a paper smacks him in the face causing him to flail briefly. After gathering himself, he holds out the paper to observe.. a poster appreciating the troops. "Thank you, for putting your life on the line. You are our hero."

Suddenly he looks up, feeling as if he has eyes on him. Standing across the parking lot in a beautiful, rose colored dress is Layla, smiling. Before Dean could think of what to do, she disappears.

Dean/Jensen tags: @akshi8278

#spn #supernatural #spn s1 #spn 1.12 #spn 1x12 #spn faith #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #spn gen #spn genfic #supernatural genfic #dean winchester #dean #layla rourke #classic supernatural #spn oneshot

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beanie-beebo · 4 years ago

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Oneshot: Dean pays respects to an old friend.

A/N I know I never really write like I used to, but I do come up with a few good things now and again. Enjoy. ❤

In the life of a hunter, you couldn’t have connections. Ties to the normal civilian life meant putting others at risk. Sam and Dean knew this, but nothing would stop them from feeling connected to the people they saved. Every once in a while, an opening would come up between hunts. Giving them the perfect opportunity to catch up on the lives of those they saved, however they could. Usually it was through local papers; it was safer that way. Calling meant the connection would still be there, and opened the possibility of a blossoming partnership.

“I wish more hunts were this easy.” Dean said, plopping onto the nearest bed.

“Yeah, you’re telling me.” Sam said, failing to observe Dean was on his bed. “Alright, I don’t know about you, but I need a shower. I can still smell that last vamp we took out, perfume included.”

“Bathroom’s all yours. I need a breather, maybe a nap. Just don’t use up all the hot water, Frieda.” Dean said.

Sam rolled his eyes before shutting the bathroom door with a huff. Dean gave himself an approving nudge on the shoulder and smirked.

“Dean 1, Sam 0.” Dean muttered to himself triumphantly.

He momentarily began to doze, but it wasn’t long before his thoughts got the better of him. It had now been almost two months since his father chose to sacrifice his own life for Dean. He still couldn’t wrap his head around it all, of what exactly happened and why his father seemingly gave up so easily. He wondered exactly what could have been going through his mind when he did what he did. There were so many unanswered questions, ones he would probably never get the answers for. The likely deal his father made to save him was just as much of a knee-jerk choice as Sam going to that faith healer that one time. How desperate was his father to make such a choice?

Dean still remembered the look on Sam’s face when he found out his brother had drawn the short straw, from that hunt not too long ago. He never was good at hiding how he really felt, not from Dean anyway. The hurt shone brightly in his younger brother’s unshed tears, and it was obvious the only reason Sam brought him to the faith healer was out of desperation. But deciphering his father’s true intent was like trying to focus a laser on a minnow in murky water.

Dean opened his eyes and sat up, suddenly feeling sick. A knot formed in his stomach for a completely different reason as a face wedged itself to the front of his mind.

He almost reluctantly opened up Sam’s laptop and went through Ford City’s past few obituary sections in the local papers.

There had been so much going on, he hadn’t recently checked in on any previous hunt survivors. Guilt seeped deep into his heart. Last time they had talked, she had months left to live.

Sure enough, in the second most recent newspaper was Layla’s face, sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Layla Rourke; beloved daughter, niece, granddaughter, and friend to many passed away Thursday, June 29th 2006. Services will be held Friday, July 7th at Munderloh Funeral Home from 1pm to 3pm and 5pm to 7pm.”

Dean’s stomach dropped. Another name to add to the list of the people who he didn’t save, once again. He almost wanted to laugh, the last conversation they ever had, involved faith. Where was this so-called God now? Where was He whenever good people needed it most? It was easier to believe that a God never existed than to get his hopes crushed every time a life drained away, at his stupid expense nonetheless. Yet, the people who still believed, got their hopes crushed in the end. Dean only wished he knew how to feel.

“Hey, you okay?”

Dean turned around to a fully dressed Sam, fresh out of the shower.

“Uh, do you remember Layla? The chick who was at that faith healing session?” Dean asked.

Sam huffed in amusement. “Yeah, I definitely remember. Why?”

“She uh, her funeral is this week.” Dean said.

“Oh..” Sam said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wow, um. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I think I’m gonna head up to Nebraska, you good for a few days?” Dean asked.

“You sure you don’t want me to come with? I’ll be fine, but I know how much that last conversation…” Sam trailed off.

Dean clenched his jaw. “I need to do this by myself, Sam. I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, just let me know if anything comes up.” Sam said. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but-”

“You’re always there, blah blah. I know. Enough touchy feely crap, I’m headed out.” Dean retorted.

"And Dean?”

Dean turned around, a hard glare set in his eyes.

“Just be careful.”

Dean slammed the hotel door behind him in frustration, roared the Impala’s engine, and sped off towards Ford City.

~~~

“You can come up, if you wish. I won’t be too long.” She says.

“It’s alright. You take your time.” Dean says.

“You’re not bothering me, hun. I don’t bite.” She responds.

He takes up the invitation; Dean figures it probably wouldn’t hurt to give her some company.

“She really was something, wasn’t she?” Dean asks.

She sniffles lightly. “Layla truly was one of a kind. One of the brightest souls I have ever had the blessing to come across.”

Dean nods, taking in Layla’s peaceful presence.

Brief pause. “How did you know her?” The woman asks.

“Layla.. She was kind to me even when I didn’t deserve it. Even when I was for some reason chosen to be saved over her, she never held it against me. I think she even had faith for me.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Layla. She didn’t have a mean bone in her body. I’m Jamie, by the way; Layla’s aunt.”

“Nice to meet you; I’m Dean. Sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, same to you.”

Another brief silence.

“You know, I may not know you, but I can tell you’re worth more than you think.” Jamie says.

“Sorry, but you are highly mistaken.” Dean replies.

“Layla, she was a person of good faith. She only kept you around, if she felt your intentions were good. She may have been kind to everyone, but if you knew her, you also knew she wasn’t one to condone ill intentions. If she had faith in or for you, you are a good person.”

Dean didn’t have an answer; his eyes focused on Layla.

“Did you come far?” She asks to break the tension.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean finally glances back into Jamie’s direction momentarily. “I was originally working in Jersey this weekend.”

“Hm, now if you weren’t a good person, then why did you come all this way for her?”

He stares at Layla’s portrait next to the casket. He knows Jamie was trying to make a good point. Although, that point didn’t condone everything he had done.

“It was nice meeting you Dean, take care.” And with that she walks away, leaving Dean alone with Layla.

For a few moments, he didn’t even know what to say. What could he even say? One of the last times they had been together, he stopped her from being healed. He felt so dirty, standing here when he clearly felt he shouldn’t have been. It’s not like his brother couldn’t kill Azazel without him. Yeah, Sam would be broken without his brother, but not incapable. He would have Bobby at least. Sam survived college without him, he could have survived Dean pulling the short straw.

“Hi Layla..” Dean’s voice begins to waver. “I bet I’m the last person you wanted to hear from, but.. I’m here anyway. I couldn’t not say goodbye..”

Dean plays with the denim of his jeans awkwardly.

“Listen, about what happened months ago.. I need you to understand, I never wanted this to happen to you. The reason I was healed...wasn’t God. Although, I’m sure if you were here, you would say so anyway. My brother brought me to Roy because... he was desperate. And.. He made a mistake. I mean, I guess if he didn’t find Roy, we never would have met and I would have never saved those people..”

Dean pauses and glances behind him, making sure he was still alone.

“My brother and I, we hunt things..Unnatural things. I’m not going to explain everything but, if you were to follow us for a day, maybe you would understand. And what healed me, was something.. not natural. And God.. He wouldn’t condone what it was. Now, I know I couldn’t save you. But there hasn’t been a day that has gone by, that I haven’t regretted that. Hell, if anything, I would have traded my life for yours in a heartbeat.”

Tears begin to sting his eyeline.

“Layla I.. I wish things could have been different for you. I’m sorry.” He sniffled. “I know your Aunt Jamie was saying all these things about me being a good person, but.. If I was a good person, I would have let you be saved, even if it was unnatural. But me being me, I hunted the unnatural thing before you could get that chance.”

Dean pauses to collect himself.

“Yeah..” He whispers to no one in particular.

He gives her a final farewell, shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, and somberly heads outside. Just after he walks out the double doors, a paper smacks him in the face causing him to flail briefly. After gathering himself, he holds out the paper to observe.. a poster appreciating the troops. “Thank you, for putting your life on the line. You are our hero.”

Suddenly he looks up, feeling as if he has eyes on him. Standing across the parking lot in a beautiful, rose colored dress is Layla, smiling. Before Dean could think of what to do, she disappears.

#supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #spn #supernatural #gen fanfic #spn gen fic #oneshot #spn oneshot #dean winchester #winchester #sam winchester #Don't fear the reaper #faith #season 2 #season 2 supernatural #faith supernatural

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highfivecalum · 6 years ago

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Here With Me {LH} 2

Previous Chapters: One

***

TWO DAYS PASSED AND Neena had barely left Michael and Amy’s house, too busy catching up on sleep and trying to figure out what the hell her next move was. She was waiting to call Ruby, to tell her she found a safe place to live, but she didn’t want to. Not yet. She didn’t want to jinx it and Neena wanted to be absolutely sure that this was the place she wanted to live, to stay, to make a new life without Ben. She knew when she found a house that she liked, that suited her, she would stay. And then she would call Ruby.

“Hey Michael?” Neena caught Michael’s attention, who was standing over the stove flipping the omelette he was making Neena and himself. “Have you talked to your parents yet about helping me find a place to live?”

“I did, actually!” Michael transferred the omelettes from the stove top to two different plates and placed Neena’s in front of her, she thanked him before squirting sriracha onto her plate and cutting a piece of her omelet off. “My mom has an opening from two to three today and she has two houses, both a few blocks away from here, that she wants to show you. They’re pretty cheap, too.”

“Would you mind coming with me? I don’t know my way around here yet.”

“Of course!” Michael smiled happily. “I would ask Amy to come, but she’s at work until later, so it’ll just be us. That okay?”

Neena nodded her head. She knew Michael wasn’t threatening, if anything, he was the nicest person she’s met and the complete opposite of threatening. Neena didn’t know him well, but she knew that he was a person she could trust, and she was sure that she would come to trust him, along with Amy.

The pair finished their omelettes and washed their dishes off before going into their separate bathrooms to shower and get themselves ready. It was mid-June, so the sun was scorching and hotter than Neena had ever experienced. She was used to living in Michigan, where it was usually in the eighties. She wasn’t used to the ninety, almost one hundred degree Florida sun.

Neena settled on a backless sundress and a pair of sandals and slung her purse over her shoulder. She met Michael at the front door and the two of them got into his car, which Neena was extremely thankful for, because she was not in the mood to walk. That got her thinking; she needed a car. Badly. But money was tight and she needed a home and a job before she could venture off into car buying. One small step at a time, Neena thought.

“This is it!” Michael parked his car behind a white BMW, which Neena guessed was his mother’s and the two of them walked up the few stairs leading to the front porch and inside of the smaller house. It was old, dusty, and a little rickety. It would definitely need some work. Too much work. “Hi, mom!” Michael gave his mother a quick hug before pulling away and pointing to Neena. “This is Neena. She’s new here.”

“Hi Neena. I’m Karen. Nice to meet you.” The two shook hands and Neena looked around. There were holes in the walls, she could hear mice running around under the wooden floorboards, and the bathroom made Neena cringe. Neena knew that if she choose this house, it would need too much work done, and she didn't have close to that kind of money. “So? What do you think?”

“We hate it.” Michael answered for Neena in an instant. “What about the other one?”

“Much nicer than this one. A little bit more money, but I think it’ll be worth it.”

The three of them drove to the next house, only five houses down from the first one, and Neena’s eyes lit up at the sight of it. It was a small white house, small but bigger than the first, and had a screened in front porch which she adored. The inside looked brand new, only a few dents here and there and little dust, but nothing too major. The bathroom was clean, the kitchen full functioning, and the bedroom thankfully bigger than the size of a walk-in closet like the last.

The house came fully furnished, which surprised Neena and surprised her even more when Karen told her that it didn’t add to the cost of the house. It would only need some minor touch ups; painting, cleaning, new doorknobs, and some new lights, but other than that, it was perfect in Neena’s eyes. It was home.

“I love it.” Neena smiled, genuinely, for the first time in weeks. “How much is it?”

Karen and Neena talked pricing while Michael turned the car on and got the air conditioning cranked up. Neena paid cash, all cash, which surprised Karen, but she wasn’t one to judge or ask questions. Money was money and that’s all Karen cared about, along with finding her new client a home she would love and make her own.

Michael drove Neena back to he and Amy’s shared house so she could get her stuff, which was only the one duffel bag she brought with her and a few blankets, pillows, sheets, and towels that Amy and Michael were nice enough to give to her. The couple didn’t know much about Neena. They knew she didn’t talk a lot, wasn’t very open about herself, and they knew something was up considering Neena moved to a town across the country, by herself, with only one duffel bag to her name, but it wasn’t their business to ask, and they knew that.

“Thanks for everything, Michael.” Neena spoke through the rolled down window and Michael waved her off like it was no big deal, but to Neena it was. “I’m serious. I owe you.”

“It’s no problem, Neena, really. Just promise me one thing?” Neena nodded. “Don’t be a stranger. Next time we go out you should come with us. And if you need anything, we only live a few blocks away, so don’t hesitate to show up, alright?”

“Got it. Thanks again. Tell Amy thank you, too.”

Neena and Michael waved to each other and Neena happily let herself into her new home. It smelled a little musty, so Neena was planning on going into town and buying a few candles and some flowers to spruce the place up, but first, she had to make a phone call.

Neena called Ruby on her pay as you go phone and waited anxiously as the phone rang. It went to voicemail and Neena figured that Ruby was at work, so she left a message. “Hi Ruby, it’s me. I’m somewhere safe. And I think I’m going to like it here. Send the money whenever you can, no rush, and call me back when you get this, okay?”

Neena gave Ruby her new address and phone number that was written on the back of the shitty phone and ended the call. Neena sat at the small dining room table, looking around at her new home. Her chin was rested on her knees that were brought up to her chest and she sighed. This was her life now and she had finally come to terms with it. She was okay with it. She just hoped she liked it.

***

A full day went by and Neena hadn’t gone outside since. She was too busy unpacking, even though she only had six shirts, six pairs of pants/shorts, a few dresses, and three pairs of shoes shoved in her duffel bag, so there wasn’t much to unpack. She cleaned up, got rid of all the dust, and opened all the windows to get some fresh air. She was beyond thankful for the working washer and dryer in the small hall closet. She washed the sheets, blankets, and towels that Amy and Michael had given her and made her bed.

Neena knew she couldn’t go another day without a shower and she needed at least some type of food to get her through her days, so she got herself dressed in a pair of shorts and a plain shirt and was on her way into town. She gave herself a pat on the back for wearing her Nike sneakers instead of the sandals she had been wearing. Neena hated the feeling of sweaty feet, but she would rather have that than a painful walk to and from the main town.

It was a long walk, but it wasn’t awful due to the wind blowing the trees and Neena’s hair around, and the smell of the ocean wafting into her nose. Neena loved the smell of the ocean and sunscreen. She had only been to the beach once in her life when she was sixteen. Her and her parents made one trip to South Carolina. Neena’s mother had fallen ill and she had never seen the beach before, and that was on her bucket list before she passed, so the three of them went to South Carolina and Neena remembers it as one of the best times of her life.

There were people out and about, children everywhere since it was their summer break, and Neena smiled fondly at all of the families. It made her miss hers, but she tried not to dwell on it, since she had been missing them for a while now. After her mother's passing, Neena and her father's relationship faltered, so for almost seven years now, she had been missing how her family used to be. Neena was just glad that other people could experience what she once, but no longer, had.

She reached the local shop that Michael and Amy told her about and walked in, happily welcoming the air conditioning that was blasting. The door was propped open, so the bell didn’t ding when she walked in. Neena grabbed a basket and slowly walked around the shop, eyeing everything and taking everything in. It took twenty minutes to walk around and find everything she needed.

When Neena was done, her basket was full with shampoo and conditioner, body wash, a few small candles, and some random snacks. She was relying on Ramen Noodles and was happy to see that they had multiple flavors, not just beef and chicken.

“Hi!” A small girl popped her head up and climbed onto the stool that was in front of the register.

Neena’s eyes widened at the girl, but she smiled widely at her. She was adorable; tanned skin with freckles on her nose and shoulders, unruly blonde curls, and the brightest blue eyes Neena had ever seen. She couldn’t have been older than six. “Hi there.” Neena placed her basket on the counter, careful not to block the little girls view.

“Did you find everything okay?”

“I did. Thank you.” Neena smiled. “Aren’t you a little bit small to be running a store?”

The little girl giggle and Neena couldn’t help but giggle along, the sound was infectious and Neena missed being that small. “I don’t run it! My daddy does. He’s somewhere.” The little girl pressed a few buttons on the cash register and the drawer popped open. “I’m Keely. What’s your name?”

“I’m Neena,” Neena shook Keely’s small hand and Keely stared at her. “What?” Neena laughed. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” Keely shook her head, her curls bouncing around in the process. “You’re just pretty.”

“Thank you,” Neena laughed. “So are you.”

“Keely,” A male voice sounded. “Where’s your brother?” The man looked up from the clipboard in his hands and raised his eyebrows. He wasn’t aware there was a customer. A customer that he had never seen before. “Oh, hi. I’m sorry. Can I help you?”

“I already did it, daddy.” Keely rolled her eyes at her father, whose name Neena did not know and wasn’t planning on staying long enough to learn, and she stifled a laugh. “Your total is twenty-five dollars.”

Neena handed her two twenties and Keely expertly put it in the cash drawer and gave Neena her change. Neena thanked the young girl and put her change in her wallet. “Do you need help getting those to your car?” The man pointed to the two bags that Neena had yet to pick up.

Neena shook her head, barely even glancing at the man in front of her. “I don’t have a car. Thanks though.” Neena turned to Keely with a smile. “It was nice to meet you, Keely.”

Neena looked up to offer the man a small smile, but he was turned around now, so she smiled once more at Keely before exiting the shop and making the trek back to her house. It was a struggle to carry the two heavy bags back for twenty minutes and Neena wished she had a car, or a bike or something, but she would have to get used to walking in the meantime.

Neena took a much needed shower and cooked herself a packet of Ramen Noodles. She sipped the cheap five dollar wine from the store and stared out the window. She was bored already. She had been in Bayside for a total of four days and she hadn’t done anything remotely fun, too busy focused on getting herself settled.

Neena let out a huff and thought to herself, I need a fucking job. That was her next mission.

***

Taglist: @cosmocalum @wrappedaroundcal @hereforlukescruff @glitterprincelu @astroashtonio @irwinkitten @irwinvalentines @kinglyhood @swiftmusicinmymind @jetblackyoungblood @old-zeppelin-shirt @cantbehandled-ever @in-paper-dreams @kaxseychill @catchinqcalum @roselukes @monsteramongmikey @calteahood @queen-of-daydreaming @alotof1dlove @mysteriouslycali

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer imagine #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford #ashton irwin #luke imagine #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings imagines #luke blurbs #luke hemmings blurbs #luke fanficition #luke fanfic #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings fanfiction #here with me

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hollowedrpg · 6 years ago

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CONGRATULATIONS, RO! — You’ve been accepted for the role of Pandora Lovegood. There was something so charming about your application. Pandora felt like so much more than the four paragraphs I wrote for her bio, and that’s because you made the character your own. I was so ecstatic when you ran the idea by me about Pandora being deaf, and you’ve written it in such a beautiful way. Being able to add onto her character in a way that not only makes sense, but further develops her before you’ve even had the chance to write her in-game leaves me so excited to see what you’ll do with her.

Thank you so much for applying. Please create your account and send in the link, track the right tags, and follow everyone on the follow list. Welcome to Hollowed Souls!

name: Ro age: 29. Literal granny. preferred pronouns: Female. She/Her timezone: AEST (Australia) activity: I work full time and stress full time, but am usually around on my phone for plotting and chatting, and have a few hours a few days a week dedicated to writing. are you applying for more than one character?: (if so, list your preference in order) how do you feel about your character dying?: I am such a sadist, I am honestly all for it. I love crying over my poor dead characters. Provided it is not just a gratuitous death, but something to further the plot. I like to get in some decent character development first, of course! anything else?: (questions, concerns, etc.) Obviously Pandora and Xenophilius’ relationship is v important to her character, I’ve kinda guessed at a few things here but of course nothing pertaining to him is set in stone!! ic details. full name: Pandora Lovegood. Born Pandora Min Jee Park. Nicknames Panda. Dora. Pea. Min

date of birth: April 8 1954. Aries. Born to Joon Woo Park and Hae Yun Fenwick. former hogwarts house: Hufflepuff sexuality: Pansexual. gender/pronouns: Female. She/Her face claim change:

more. how do you interpret this character’s personality? how will you play them? include two weaknesses & two strengths.

+ Compassionate. Unrelenting

- Impatient. Restless.

Silent and strong, it is all easy for others to overlook Pandora. A sweet little witch, her husband’s devoted carer. Always sipping on a steaming potion from a chipped porcelain teacup or blowing her nose on a delicate silk handkerchief. These lingering remnants of childhood illnesses she can never quite shake, ever a reminder that she can’t cure everyone - not even herself. That will never stop resilient Pandora from trying.

But look at her, really look at her and see the depth of the ocean. The brilliant, unrelenting mind constantly searching for answers others dare not seek. When one is found she asks another question, digging deeper until all the truths of the universe are laid bare before her. Pandora’s hunger for knowledge is all consuming, she will often forget to eat or shower for days until reminded by a concerned friend. Ceaseless hours are spent reading obscure books of dark artefacts and curses, diving deeply into long forgotten lore, searching out near extinct plants. No length is too far for a new discovery, Pandora would do anything for her patients. Since her time at Hogwarts Pandora has been no stranger to working herself into exhaustion. Impatient, Pandora will quickly grow frustrated if her research isn’t going her way. She will become tense while she continues to push herself to the point of self destruction, the delicate girl with bones of glass and skin of paper almost shattering. At times she is reckless, believing in her own great mind enough to test an experimental potion with no proof other than her own confidence that it will do good. It is a dangerous line to walk, Pandora has been lucky she has not yet caused any damage to a patient or friend that doesn’t know the true risks of what they are about to imbibe.

The person who faces the greatest risks in Pandora’s experimental healing is also the once that faces the greatest rewards. The one that needs her most. The one that Pandora needs, so desperately, to heal. No one is more important to her than her husband. Though some would call Xenophilius a mad man, they would say he is too far gone from reality. But he grounds Pandora, her shining beacon in a world blanketed in confused darkness. He is the only one to understand her. His words are her gospel, at times impossible to comprehend, she will never stop trying to decipher what he has to say. She wishes she could calm the screaming in his head and share with him the silence in which she finds so much solace. Pandora knows together the pair will find his much sought after cure. In doing so she knows they will be unleashing the full potential of Xenophilius’ mind, the likes of which the Wizarding world has never seen before.

Deaf from the age of five after a near deadly case of meningitis Pandora has never let the loss of one of her senses slow her down. If anything, it pushes her further. She can lip read comfortably and speaks in a soft, unsteady voice, though she prefers to communicate in sign language. Fed up with traditional spell casting Pandora dedicated time at Hogwarts to creating new methods of spell casting using sign rather than speech. A small book was published, Pandora hopes to see more inclusive magic being taught at schools and in the Ministry itself. The ceiling of the small tent she and Xenophilius now call home is strung with soft golden lights so Pandora can always see, and bright charms attached to the knocker on the front door to always alert her to visitors.

Just like many of the other new residents of Godric’s Hollow Pandora could not face living in a cottage that had seen so much death, the metallic scent of blood she knows all too well still heavy in the air. The shadows of the dead were still there, filling the cracks in the wall, whispering in Xenophilius’ ear. Almost every surface is covered in books, books from their own libraries, books filled with the neatly organised handwritten notes of Pandora and Xenophilius’ frenzied scrawl. The kitchen has more cauldrons than cooking pots, there are always several bubbling along, filling the room with coloured smoke and curious, heady aromas. The Lovegood home has become a makeshift clinic for the Order, Pandora has all the healing supplies she needs to treat most illnesses. Her compassionate warmth and open door has also made her kitchen a drop in spot for those who need a cup of tea and the chance to let out all the feelings whenever they need to talk. Pandora knows she is doing a good thing helping the Order, she knows this is what her cousin would have wanted. But the quiet girl that believes in her own greatness knows she has a world to save, not just one broken town.

how has the war affected this character, emotionally and otherwise?

A half blood witch adored and accepted by her muggle family, Pandora truly cannot wrap her head around the reasonings of this war. There are many things wrong in the world, both Wizarding and muggle, there are many things worth fighting about. Blood status is not one of them. At first she found it foolish, more anti-muggle propaganda they had all heard a hundred times or more. But as the injured kept arriving at St Mungo’s in higher numbers, carrying dark curses, as the death count become a number so astronomical Pandora’s heart ached to the point she couldn’t breathe trying to imagine what that much death really meant she realised that this really was a war. It was at that time Benjy approached her, asking her to join, to fight, to heal.

She couldn’t. Pandora’s fight was at her husband’s side. Her fight was in the wings of the hospital with patients that needed her. She did all she could, splitting her time between the wards and the Order, helping where she was needed. She kept her eyes open as she worked her rounds, always seeking out information. She passed on everything she deemed of importance to the Order - names, places, curses. Pandora did her best to help. Though she would never admit it, not even sign it in pitch darkness, a part of Pandora she tried to keep buried deep within was grateful to have so much work to do. Her talents finally were being used to her full potential, she was needed. With so many people to heal the higher ups at St Mungo’s allowed her unauthorized methods to go forward without the usual testings and verification. She was helping more people she had ever dreamed possible.

The presumed death of her cousin shattered her. In a morbid reprise of the news of her father’s death Pandora collapsed in a faint upon hearing the news. Just as with her father Pandora felt his death should have been prevented, she should have been there, she should have done more for him. Pandora finally felt ready to fight, just as the Order decided upon retreat. Pandora knew that she had to follow them to Godric’s Hollow. Without as much work to keep her occupied Pandora’s mind is continuing to crack. Anxiety keeps her awake at night more often than her books, she stares at the posters of the missing hung so morbidly in the graveyard wide eyes shimmering with tears, bitten fingernails digging into the palms of her hands. The weight of all those lives lost is pressing down on her, Pandora isn’t sure how to fight back. She tries her hardest to keep herself occupied helping the Order. But with the fighting at a standstill Pandora has no one to heal.

where does this character currently stand? with those who wish to hide in godric’s hollow until the war ends, with those who wish to rebuild the order and continue fighting the war, or on neither side? why?

Pandora has no desire to stay in Godric’s Hollow. She is there because she believes it is what Benjy would have wished for her, because she thinks that is what is best for Xenophilius’ right now. Her own desires are less important than theirs. She agrees with the people that wish to carry on fighting, though she tremors at the thought of losing yet another person than she has grown close to.

What Pandora really wants is to get out of Godric’s Hollow and return to St Mungo’s. She knows there are still people there that need her. Pandora needs to be needed, she needs to help.

She sits quiet in meetings and conversations, as a mere associate of the Order she has no say anyway. But she pays close attention to what those around her are feeling and saying, she is sure she isn’t the only person that feels hopelessly stuck in this death filled town.

Pandora Lovegood: How does Pandora feel about being forced to stay in Godric’s Hollow, when she could be out helping those who have been wounded by this war?

Pandora feels utterly trapped in Godric’s Hollow. With no real work to keep her occupied she is restless and anxious, fixating on small problems, even creating problems just so she has something to do. The decision to relocate was made in haste and fear. It is a choice she is ever increasingly regrets. The only reason she is content in staying is Xenophilius, without the distraction of a world torn apart by war is that every book she reads, every potion she brews is dedicated to deciphering the voices drowning his mind. Pandora isn’t sure how much longer she can stay, the gnawing guilt in her stomach a constant reminder her skills are going to waste when so many people are suffering without her healing hands. extra.

Pinterest board.

if i were a season, i’d be late spring

if i were a time of day, i’d be sunrise

if i were a place, i’d be a quiet corner of a library

if i were a type of weather, i’d be a sunshower

if i were a scent, i’d be antiseptic cream

if i were a plant, i’d be a aloe vera

if i were an element, i’d be water

if i were a color, i’d be off white

if i were a song, i’d be Here comes the Sun by The Beatles

if i were an item of clothing, it’d be a clean white tshirt

if i were an object, i’d be a fountain pen

if i were one of the seven deadly sins, i’d be pride

if i were one of the seven heavenly virtues, i’d be diligence

if i were a god/goddess, i’d be Epione, Greek goddess of soothing pain

Future plot ideas:

Pandora is ignoring her own mental health in order to look after those around her. She is in a fragile state and edging closer to breaking point. She may start turning to potions to help get through each day. It would also be very nice for someone to realise how much she is struggling and help her for once.

Pandora can take many risks when creating potions or perfecting a cure. She could trial a new potion on someone and end up doing more harm than good.

Pandora feels like a caged bird unable to sing stuck at Godric’s Hollow. She would like to start making occasional trips back to London/St Mungos to gather supplies and intel. She may learn more about missing Order members this way.

Pandora , Xenophilius mystery solving!!

#hp rp #rp #lsrpg #marauders rp #new rp #accepted

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flatstarcarcosa · 3 years ago

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sorry but thinking about how zaeed and i always gloss over the whole 'he locked me in his bathroom for an improv detox' thing with everyone and how it's always fucking funny, from our POV, but always for a new reason bc different people ALWAYS react differently depending on how they view literally everything about the entire situation.

but also consider:

doctor chakwas

when he comes back that one day after a mission on the normandy and finds that i've slid into detox because my implant is overdue for replacement. i'm literally sitting in the shower in my underwear because i kept getting hot flashes and not knowing why, among all the other shit that comes with it, and eventually just got as far as halfway naked for a shower before i just ran out of energy and shit.

i'm not doing great, and it's not UNTIL he thinks 'reese is having detox symptoms in a bathroom again this is familiar' that he realizes that oh, that's what that fucking intermittent beeping on his equipment has been the past few days. it was the goddamn reminder from the implant that it was coming due.

he fucking configured it because he knows i always forget and usually the alarm reminds him, but with shepard picking him to go in the field he just, for the first time EVER, missed it.

like, i'm very much sick because all but a couple of my regular, non-junkie type meds are still ones you can get dependent on. a lot of anti depressants can cause HORRIBLE withdrawal/detox if you're removed suddenly without a taper.

so he just scoops me up in a couple towels and takes me over to chakwas all fucking soggy and shit, and she too wonders why if i'd already been feeling so fucking shitty for a couple days, i didn't come see her, and by this point zaeed's just taken over answering for me, and he comments about how i dislike doctors intensely, to put it mildly.

chakwas isn't able to replace my implant, it's a legal device that was acquired illegally and as such the normandy doesn't have the tools to replace it since no one on the expected crew list has anything similar. she does, however, have most of the meds it regulates, and is able to give me a few extra things to help with the additional symptoms until the next time we can dock and actually fix my implant.

zaeed elects to let me sleep it off in the med bay, and comments later when he comes back after getting himself a shower and some food that well hey, it's not like it's the first time i've detoxed in a bathroom.

"what in god's name does that mean?" chakwas asks.

"most of those meds that implant shits out is either managing their incurable insanity or their addictive tendencies," he says. he tells her how, a few days after we met, i ruined the mood by suddenly spouting "ah fuck i'm ODing again" mid sentence before i dropped to the floor.

"they're goddamn lucky i'm good at math and put again together with them croaking out 'bag'," he adds. after all, if anything useful came out of my time with Rust it was to always have an emergency OD kit on hand.

it was in with the rest of my crap, and it was while digging through my shit to find it that zaeed also found just how many different fucking drugs i had on me.

"that is lucky," chakwas agrees. "those kinds of things can keep someone alive until they get to the hospital, and have for centuries."

"right," says zaeed, crossing his arms. "i...didn't do that."

"...what did you do?"

"packed up their shit to toss them out, then sat and thought about it for a bit, then i tossed them and their shit in my bloody bathroom and dried 'em out."

chakwas says nothing, and blinks at him.

"you did what?!"

"it worked out, didn't it?"

"you could have killed them! do you know how it easy it is to kill someone by withdrawing them improperly?!"

"i know the first three days had me wishing it was a lot easier!"

"good god, massani!"

after that, karin kicks him out of the med bay and refuses to let him back in until i'm awake. she gets that it was...an unusual situation, she can allow him that, and it's not that she suddenly doesn't trust him around me or in general but, still.

it was a horrible twisting of 'medical care', and if he knew enough to get me through the initial overdose and get me stable, he damn sure knew enough to also get me proper care after. if he wanted or decided on a whim to be responsible for me, he should have done it all the way and done it correctly.

as a doctor, and as me temporarily under her care as her patient, she just doesn't want to hear anything else, or any other excuses, about it.

she also takes the time to double check the readings from my implant and the medications and dosages, just in case. it's not as if either of us gave her a full medical history, but the implant has enough information for educated guessing and a second look.

she does not, however, foresee the way i panic when i wake up 18 hours later and find myself alone in the med bay without zaeed, and he can't resist a smug "i goddamn told you so" when she has to concede and let him back in before i'll allow anything else to be done.

"my best guess, you were about 30 seconds away from seeing what i meant about them clawing at the door," he adds.

"my opinion isn't changing," chakwas says sternly. "you're a smart enough man to have known better."

i roll my eyes.

"you told her about my bathroom sabbatical when we met, didn't you?"

"what? she asked!"

"and i simply told him he could get the hell out of my med bay," she says, crossing her arms.

"you realize that's been like...8 years ago now, right?" i ask. "seems like a weird hill to die on, doc."

"it's a perfectly normal hill, from my perspective," she says. "i understand neither of you are bothered and it seems fine, but the kind of damage that can be done during an improper detox, even if it isn't fatal, can still be immense. for all we know the medications you need now can be as a result of complications from that that are just getting misdiagnosed as your previously untreated mental illness."

zaeed and i do swap a glance, and we each do file that away, somewhere. mentally. for later.

if we both have one.

shepard's mission isn't done, which mean zaeed's contract isn't done, and there was no guarantee he'd be around to spend those credits cerberus paid him.

"naaaaaaaaaaaah," i say instead, "i was always fucking crazy. sane people don't end up junkies, doc."

"that's not how addiction works," chakwas starts to say-

"i've never met a sane addict in my life," i say, hopping off the exam table. "and i bet i've known more addicts in person than you have in theory, doc."

i stress the word, bat my eyelashes, and give her a grin that clearly says we're dropping this now and i'm trying to be polite. she catches the message, clears her throat.

"regardless, thank you," i add. "i finessed this implant back on illium ages ago because it makes it easier for my meds, but i can lose track of when it's coming due for replacement. i normally have pill forms of all those meds on me for when i forget, but with this mission coming up so fast, they got overlooked."

"you're welcome," says chakwas. "and please, as long as you're both still part of this crew, if you're feeling unwell just come by. it's why i'm here."

"don't mind if i don't," i drawl in a sing-songy tone. the med bay door beeps open, and the smell of stew coming from the kitchen draws me over. zaeed pauses at the door, considers something for a moment and then sighs, turning back towards her.

"it's nothing personal, you know," he says. karin turns in her chair.

"you think i'm so thin skinned i take it personally whenever someone doesn't like doctors?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"i think any good doctor would take it personally if someone feels safer with me giving them medical care," he says. her eyebrow lowers, and her face softens for a moment. "and you are. a good doctor, that is."

the door beeps shut behind him, and she watches through the window as he yells across the crew deck. chef gardner says something in response, and whatever exchange the two men have causes me to begin scooping as much beef stew into my mouth as i can before zaeed can reach me and pry the bowl out of my hands.

doctor chakwas remembers then that chef gardner makes his beef stew with a special wheat flour and beef bullion powder combination as flavoring and thickener, and she says nothing 6 hours later when i slink back into the med bay and ask for something for gas and nausea relief.

#txt.txt #ship: stubborn goddamn jackasses #drugs tw #this is another rambly half headcanon half prose thing but ghghghg #chakwas be like: zaeed what would possess you to think that was an appropriate way to treat them?#also chakwas after dealing with me first hand: nvm bro u got it

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chefgeofframsay · 7 years ago

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Desperate Minds [1/7]

Title: Desperate Minds Pairing: Aaron Marquis/Reader Rating: PG-13 Chapter Word Count: 4,642 Summary: “How do I know you're not doing...your siren thing?” asked Aaron, giving you a skeptical look. “Oh come on,” you just about snarled, turning on your heel to face the werewolf fully. “I never use my abilities on anyone. Just because I have the ability doesn't make me a predator. Or a murderer!” “Historically,” he started crossing his arm and nodding, “your powers make you both.”

A/N: Shout out to literally everyone who looked at this/listened to me bitch about it while I’ve been writing it and I can’t list them because I will forget but know I love you all!

You dipped down the nearest alleyway, whipping around the corner of the brick building and nearly crashing headfirst into a grimy dumpster. You sidestepped it awkwardly, looking anything but graceful as you nearly threw yourself off-balance and topped over, and continued your speed walk down the dark corridor. You were just turning another corner down another alleyway that you knew would let out near the road that led home when he caught up to you. You hadn't seen him coming, but when you sped around the corner, you found yourself stopping short to avoid colliding with his outstretched arm as he leaned against the wall.

“Fuck,” you swore under your breath, stumbling back against the building in an effort to balance yourself. It played directly into his hand and before you knew it, his other arm was on the other side of you, palm also splayed out against the brick, boxing you in place. With nowhere to go, you looked up at his face as it loomed closer, wanting to punch that smirk right off his face.

“Now, now,” he started, his voice dripping with the satisfaction of getting you where he wanted. “Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?”

____

Two Weeks Earlier

When you'd woken up, warm and content in your own bed, you were sure you hadn't fallen into the same trap you seemed to walk right into every weekend. You'd go out with your roommates, get drunk and think using your abilities was the best idea you'd ever had; you always woke up somewhere and not quite remember how'd you gotten there.

Today, though, you were definitely in your own bed. That was a good sign.

You only got a moment of silence because no sooner had you let your eyes slide shut then a loud bang erupted from downstairs. You let out a squeak of surprise, shooting up into a sitting position, eyes wide, ready to face whatever it was.

“Sorry!” Your roommate Lindsay shouted from downstairs, the floor between you two muffling her voice.

You groaned, flopping back down onto your pillows. Living with two witches was certainly interesting, if nothing else. Stray magic always did something to scare the shit out of you and there was no shortage of it with Lindsay and Barbara. The two were big on experimental spells, and it often had its consequences. Once, Barbara tried to brew some potion that was supposedly going to change hair color based on mood; it resulted in purple haze in your living room that smelled like marshmallows that took two full weeks to dissipate. That had been one of the less offensive outcomes to an experiment.

You were definitely awake, and laying there, while it soothed the hangover last night you had plagued morning you with, you knew full well that you weren’t going back to sleep. You willed yourself to slide out of bed, dug through a laundry basket for a fresh set of clothes and made your way to the door across the room. You were the only one in the house with your own bathroom, but you needed salt water while your witch roommates preferred to shower in the normal, city provided water. The lack of salt in the water meant it hurt whenever it came in contact with your skin, and if you were to drink it, you found yourself suddenly ill. Lindsay had bewitched the shower head to add salt to the water, and being as close as you were to the ocean, you went once in a week to collect some to carry around in a water bottle when you needed it.

You appeared from your bedroom about a half hour later, hair dripping wet as you made your way down the stairs. You hadn’t even bothered to wring the water out, just gone in search of your roommate.

“Barb!” you called as you reached the landing. “I need your help with something!”

“In here!” she replied from the kitchen, and when you entered, you found her standing over her cauldron, an iPad in her hand. “I’m trying out a new potion I found on the internet. I’ve got a good feeling about this one!”

“What’s it supposed to do?” you asked curiously, eyeing the concoction that was smoking a light blue color and smelled vaguely of cherries.

“It’s going to help us see at night without any sort of light,” she explained, pouring a vial into the cauldron.

“Why?”

“Don’t know,” she admitted. “Just figured it would be fun to try.”

“Fair,” you sighed, and pointed to your hair. “Think you could help?”

“Think you could give me a challenge?” she countered, chuckling as she put her iPad down. She reached her hands out towards your head, the familiar sparks of purple magic flying between her fingers. Your head felt as if it was tingling, and like you’d stuck it into a wind tunnel that was blowing warm air. After a few moments, the sensation disappeared as Barbara beamed as she pulled her hands away. You reached out to feel soft, dry hair and after a second of a feeling around, you could tell what hairstyle she’d gone for.

“A fishtail braid?” you asked and she nodded.

“It fits, you know?” she said brightly. “Since you’re, you know…” she trailed off, motioning at you.

“I’m not a fish,” you said shortly, shooting her a look. “But thanks, Barb.”

“No problem, kid,” she told you, smiling. “Do you want to try this out when I'm done?”

“I think I'll pass,” you chuckled, eyeing the bubbling concoction warily. “I've lived with you and Lindsay long enough to know better.” You'd only made that mistake once and you'd lost your voice for about a month when drinking a potion that was supposed to fill you with instant joy. It had definitely not done that.

“Fair,” your roommate sighed, reaching for a spoon to stir with. “By the way, I had to borrow the last of your water, but I’ll head down to the beach as soon as I am done here, promise!”

You looked over to the counter where you left your six quart water bottles to see the caps twisted off all of them; the sign they were empty so you actually knew before you needed water. They only lasted you a couple days, and you were lucky it was only a two minute walk to the beach from your house. It had been part of the reason you moved in with Lindsay and Barbara, two witches you'd only vaguely known in college. You could have moved in with your childhood friend and fellow siren, Jon, but one siren made some people uneasy. Two made everyone uneasy.

“Don't worry about it,” you told Barbara, scooping up a couple into your arm as you reached under the counter for the canvas bag you kept to transport the bottles back and forth to the beach. “I'll go and try and walk off this hangover,” you explained, sliding all the bottles into the bag.

“That bad, huh?”

“Not too bad, but I feel sluggish,” you sighed. “The fresh air should hopefully help.”

“You’re sure you won’t need help carrying it all back?” she asked, giving you a look. “Because I won’t mind!”

“No, really, it’s alright,” you chuckled, patting your roommate on the shoulder as you passed her, heading towards the living room. “I’ll be back soon!” You headed through the living room to the front door and you’d no sooner made it out to the porch before you found where your other roommate was. Lindsay was standing by the mailbox, muttering to herself as she looked inside.

“So,” you said, squinting and groaning as you stepped into the sun. Oh god, there was that hangover. Mixing it with sunlight made it feel like there was an icepick in your head, but you’d already called attention to yourself and Lindsay was standing up straight and looking over to you. “How, pray tell, does you out here make explosions in there?”

“Well,” Lindsay started, leaning her elbow on the mailbox and crossing one leg in front of the other. “I’m trying to bewitch the mailbox to just put the mail inside for us when it shows up. I had to decide where inside it was going to go, and I had to set up one half of the circuit,” she explained. “And I might have gotten a couple words of the incantation wrong so loud noises.”

“And scaring the shit out of me,” you added, chuckling a little. “Is it working now, at least?”

“Just about!” she told you, smiling. “It’s only transporting half of what I’m putting in there, but that’s an improvement. Just needs some fine tuning and we’ll never have to go out in the rain for a package again.”

“Sounds great,” you said, “once the loud noises stop, it'll be the best thing that could be done to a mailbox.” You both laughed, and it was then she spotted your bag and nodded towards it.

“Water time?” your roommate guessed, and you gave her a thumbs up.

“Gotta shake the hangover somehow,” you chucked. “I'll be back before you know it.”

“Well, enjoy the walk!” Lindsay exclaimed, opening the mailbox once more. “I'll hopefully have this all sorted by the time you get back.”

“I'll take the long way to the beach,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at her before heading towards the sidewalk.

You had gotten incredibly lucky to find Barbara and Lindsay’s listing for a roommate in Barbara’s grandmother’s old house. The three of you seemed to live in near perfect harmony and it suited their needs of having enough space to work, and your need to be near the beach. When you'd lived on the other side of town because it was where the college was, your long journey was rough. You were looking to avoid it, and you'd struck gold.

You could smell the salt in the air before you saw the ocean itself. An easy smile slid onto your face, but as you rounded the corner that would bring the ocean into view, it slid right back off. Not far from you, and directly in your way, was the town sheriff.

You and Aaron Marquis didn't get on too well, through no fault of your own. He was just, for lack of a better term, a dick. At least, he'd always been kind of a dick to you, and since deciding that law enforcement was his calling in life, he'd become kind of a dick to everyone. There was a rumor that he actually wasn't that bad; it’d been going around since your days together in college and try as his friends (and you were very confused how anyone could be friends with him) did to convince you, every time he opened his mouth to speak to you, you knew the truth.

The most disappointing part about Aaron was the part where if he would be less of a dick, he'd be attractive. Sure, he was gorgeous, and the way his dress shirt stretched around his biceps insinuated that he could throw you around if he wanted to, but the personality that he had been given couldn't save those blue eyes.

“Fancy running into you here,” Aaron said, smiling that half smile half smirk he seemed to just always have on his face.

“At the beach?” you asked in a monotone voice, “the only access to water I, a siren, need to survive? Oh yeah, such a shock.”

“It's nice to see you too,” he chuckled, watching as you stepped around him to the edge where the sidewalk met sand. You headed for the shore and was disappointed to see he was following not far after you.

“I don't think ‘nice’ would ever be a descriptor I’d use for anything to do with you,” you shot over your shoulder.

“Ouch,” he mumbled. “You know, [Y/N], I don't see why we don't get along better. We used to work together on projects all the time. You'd think that'd be a good bonding experience.”

“It is,” you sighed, reaching into your bag as you made it to the water, stopping just before where the damp sand began. “Except that's only true if you actually work together. You used to let me do all the actual work and just smile at the professor and make up some bullshit.”

“Hey! I'll have you know that my charisma saved our asses quite a few times,” he defended. “Your work almost failed us but I…” he stopped short when you whipped around to face him, glaring.

“What do you want, Marquis?”

“That's Sheriff Marquis to you,” he said, puffing his chest out, seeming all sorts of self-important. By the chuckle that accompanied the statement, you could tell he was trying to make a joke, but besides making you roll your eyes, it just forced you to glance down at his right hip, where a gun was holstered.

You'd really missed your chance to hit him in college. As much as you wanted to smack that smirk/smile off his face, you couldn't do it now without a whole host of trouble.

“Can I help you with something, Sheriff?” you asked, adding extra emphasis to the tile as you pulled out a bottle from the bag you had. You dropped the bag, still holding the other five bottles, at your feet as you headed for the water.

“What, I can't just say hi?”

“Knowing you? No,” you sighed, stopping right in front of the water and dipping the bottle in.

Being a creature of the sea living on land was a strange experience. You'd adapted to new food, even if you had a penchant for seafood, and you had to shower and drink saltwater exclusively. You had legs that you never remembered a time without. However, try as you may to live as a land-dweller, not returning to the ocean certainly got to you. The longer it took for you to return to the water, even for a short swim, the stronger the pull back to the ocean was. It'd drive you to madness if you ignored the call for too long. You could usually collect your water with no problem, but the last few months had been too cold to do anything else. In the water, you were always comfortable but returning to land and getting an immediate chill you couldn't shake wasn't your idea of something reasonable to do.

It was because of the months away from water that as soon as your hand submerged the bottle it was holding into the ocean, your mind went blank.

The ocean. You need to be in the ocean.

Without any conscious thought, you were standing up and you legs were about to jump towards the deeper water when a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back from the waterline.

No, no! Into the water!

You struggled against the body of the person holding you, trying desperately to get back to the ocean. You thrashed against the hold, trying to break free, but it was only met with a tightening grip and fingertips digging into your hip.

“Come on,” a voice somewhere incredibly far away said, “come back to us, [Y/N].”

They want to be in the water too! Tell them how great it is!

You opened your mouth, and as if it was a reflex, an almost ethereal sound began to spill out. It was cut short by a large hand cramping tightly around your mouth. Try as you may to throw it off, you couldn't. It stayed firmly over your mouth.

“Not today, doll face,” the far away voice said.

It took what seemed like an eternity for the burning your entire body was feeling to subside, for the voice telling you that you needed to be in the water to subside. Your lungs felt empty, but slowly air returned to them and it felt like heaven. You stopped struggling slowly, giving a couple weak whimpers as the realization that you weren't getting to the water hit you.

When you properly came back to, it took you a minute to get your bearings on the situation. You had been pulled a full foot up the beach and your sense of smell, as it came back to you, was filled with a slightly spicy, kind of musky scent, mixed with a familiar smell you couldn't place. You looked down to see an arm still around your waist, the white shirt sleeve rolled up to the elbow. You looked up to see that Aaron had you tightly against him.

Dog. That's what that smell you couldn't place was. Werewolves always smelled a little bit like a wet dog, though it got stronger the closer the full moon was.

You bit down on his hand, hard. He cursed loudly, letting go of your mouth and shaking his hand.

“Get off me!” you exclaimed, grabbing his forearm and trying to pull him off of you, nails digging into flesh.

“There she is,” Aaron sighed, more to himself than to you. “You sure you're alright there? Your eyes glossed right over and you tried to sing when I pulled you away from the water.”

“I'm fine,” you informed, but you felt a pang of guilt at hearing, once you'd lost control of yourself, you'd almost taken him with you. You worked so hard to keep that under control, but it was getting to be too long since you'd been in the ocean.

“Fine, fine,” he said, and let the arm holding you fall back to his side. You immediately took a few large steps away from him, glaring.

“How long has been since you've been in the water?” Aaron asked, suddenly very serious. Sheriff mode had been triggered, and you could tell by the stern look on his face and by how his arms were crossed that you two were no longer having a conversation; you were being interrogated.

“A few months,” you told him. “Really, I’m fine. I’ve only had like, one or two dreams about the ocean and I’m functioning normally. There’s no reason for you to be concerned.”

“Your eyes just glazed over, you tried to jump into the ocean with your clothes on, then tried to sing,” he pointed out. “All as soon as you touched the water. You couldn’t even hear me talking to you. How is that functioning normally?”

“You called me doll face,” you informed.

“What?”

“You said I couldn’t hear you talking to me,” you explained, “but you called me doll face. I heard you call me that.”

Aaron looked like he wanted to laugh for a moment, but instead just sighed. “You need to go into the water, [Y/N],” he said seriously.

“I know,” you replied warily. “And I’m going to, I promise. Right now, I just need to fill my bottles and go home.”

“And what’s to stop you from zoning out as soon as your hand goes back in?” he asked pointedly. You had no response for that. You knew what was going to happen, and you knew full well you couldn’t be the one to get your own water.

“I’ll get one of my roommates to come fill my bottles, okay?” you suggested. “No need for you to worry about me, Sheriff.” He stared at you for a long moment, eyes narrowing as he the wheels in his head seemed to turn. Then, he sighed heavily, letting his arms drop to the side; a sign of defeat if ever you’d seen one.

“So, I can go about my day unbothered, then?” you asked hopefully. You watched as he toed off each of his shoes in turn, and bent down to roll his pant legs up. Before he stood up to his full height, Aaron had taken off both socks and stuffed them in his shoes.

“I’m sorry about this, doll face,” he said before scooping you up into his arms.

“What are you doing?!” you exclaimed, “Aaron, put me down right now!”

He ignored you, carrying you from where he’d pulled you earlier back down towards the water. He walked right passed your bag of bottles, as well as the one you’d dropped when he pulled you away from the water before walking straight in. He stopped barely a foot into the ocean, giving you a look.

“Put you down,” he said, “got it.” With that and a little effort, he’d tossed you straight into the ocean, and you swore loudly before hitting the water.

When you came to, it was no longer light outside. The sun had gone down, by the looks of it, at least a few hours ago. The street lights that lined where the street ended and the beach began were all turned on, save for one that had burned out a couple months ago and the city still hadn’t gotten around to changing yet. There was no sign of anyone on the beach, but you could hear the sound of the bar not far down the street’s bassline and you knew the night had, at least, officially begun.

You swam towards the shore, feeling anger bubbling inside of you as you got closer to solid ground. You remembered perfectly clearly what Aaron had done, throwing you into the ocean like a lunatic. Regardless of his gun, you decided as you walked out of the ocean and were met with that immediate chill, you were absolutely, one hundred percent going to punch Aaron Marquis the next time you saw him. He certainly deserved it.

You trudged out of the water, pulling at the clothes that stuck to your body, making a face at the wet squelching noise they made as they unstuck from your skin. You weren't far from your bag, and you just wanted to fill your bottles and go home. As you reached your stuff, you noticed the towel sitting on top of your bag; it was white but in big blue letters on one edge, it proclaimed itself as property of the police department.

“Fucker,” you muttered, teeth chattering as you grabbed the towel, wiped your face, and tossed it around your shoulder. At least he'd left you a towel, but that made you no less angry at Aaron for dumping you in the ocean. You reached for your bag to pull it closer to the waves, only to find it heavier than it’d been when you carried it down to the beach. Raising an eyebrow, you dug into the bag and pulled out a full bottle of water...then another.

“This doesn't make up it,” you grumbled to yourself as you shoved the bottles back where they belonged. He might have filled your bottles for you, and left you a towel, but Aaron had just tossed you into the water like you weighed nothing, your clothes still on and he was most certainly not forgiven.

As you reached the edge of the beach, you could have sworn you saw a man standing just under a light out towards Castaway’s Shack, the bar the music was certainly coming from, but you couldn’t make anyone out specifically. You watched the man standing there, looking in your direction for a minute and you just stood there, staring back while you dripped and shook. Then, he turned around and disappeared back into the bar, leaving you with a weird feeling.

The walk home, as short as it was, felt as if it was taking a million years to actually get anywhere. It could have been the chill that had your entire body shaking, or how your limbs were extra sore with all the effort you'd apparently put into swimming. By the time you stumbled onto your porch, you were almost ready to just collapse.

“There you are!” Barbara exclaimed, sounding incredibly relieved as the door swung shut behind you. “Where ha--what happened to you?!”

You stood there, exhausted, dripping water onto the living room floor before saying with venom, “our beloved sheriff through me into fucking ocean.”

“What?! Why would do that?” Lindsay, who was sitting on the couch, asked, giving you a concerned look.

“Because he followed me to the beach,” you sighed, dropping the bag of water bottles to the ground. It hit the floor with a thunk, and you just hoped he'd actually screwed the lids on properly.

“He follows you to the beach and throws you in? That makes no sense.”

“Yes it does,” came another voice as someone appeared out from behind Barbara. Jon was apparently visiting, his own bottle of salt water in hand. “You haven't gone for a swim in a while, right?”

You made a face, shifting on your feet and sighing as your shoes squeaked. “It's been cold,” you defended, “it’s still too cold! I'm shaking!”

“But you lost control when you touched the water,” he guessed.

“Maybe for a couple seconds,” you admired sheepishly. “But then I was fine and he threw me in anyway! While I'm wearing clothes! And have my phone in my pocket!” Your hand shot to your pocket, and it took some doing to actually get your phone out of your drenched pocket.

“Good thing I cast that imperturbable charm on it, huh?” Lindsay asked, shooting you finger guns.

“That's not the point,” you sighed. “Like what the fuck does Aaron even think he's doing? Doesn't let me go when I lose control and then throws me in a minute later.”

“Once he knew you weren't bewitched and actually at risk,” Jon pointed out as if it was the most reasonable thing in the universe. You shot him a bewildered look. Jon, of all people, knew what state you were in. He lectured you, sure, but if he were actually worried, he'd have dragged you down to the beach with him next time.

“I was fine,” you pointed out. “Hungover, yeah. But I've only dreamed about the ocean twice and it would have warmed up in a couple weeks. I'd have made it. I didn't hurt anyone. I didn't sing.” Lie. “He had no right.”

“Well,” sighed Barbara, “at least he left you a towel?” she asked, pointing to the towel slung around your shoulders.

“That doesn't make us even.”

There was a pause and then Lindsay cleared her threat. All three of you looked over at her.

“Well, we were going to go out,” she told you. “We can wait if you want to come?”

“No,” you told her, “I'm exhausted. I'm just going to shower again and go to bed. You guys have fun!” You bent down to grab your bottles and headed upstairs, waving as you disappeared. You dropped the bag by the door when you got into your room, and tossed your phone onto the bed. You peeled off all your clothes, dropping them all into a pile in the bathroom and turned on the shower. You weren't sure how long you were in there. It'd taken a while, certainly, for the chill to melt away, and by then, you were too tired to climb out of the shower.

“Come on,” you muttered to yourself, turning the handle to ‘off’ and forcing yourself out of the shower. Your towel was still a little damp as you dried yourself. With no magic to deal with your hair all you had it in you to do was to brush it out, pulling out a few pieces of seaweed, and braid it messily. After digging through the laundry pile again, you dressed in pajamas and flopped onto your bed. You didn't feel hungry; you'd probably caught some fish while you were in the water.

Sore and exhausted, you were asleep before you could even plug your phone in.

#aaron x reader #wc: 4K #urban fantasy au #series: desperate minds #ragehappy #rt reader insert #rt imagine #fic #2spooky month

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amethystmoonkat · 5 years ago

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Why telling those who are suicidal to "call whenever you need" doesn't usually work

My story: Survived Attempted Suicide

Call me no matter what time

You know, I'm here for you, right?

Anytime your feeling that way, please call me

It's a nice thing to hear. I know you have the best of intentions, but I'm sorry it's a generic lazy response to give your loved one in crisis.

Whenever I hear this, it feels like a punch in the gut. One time I protested and told my best friend "if I called you everytime I felt I wanted to die we would be on the phone 24/7." I don't know if he knew the extent of my illness or what I was trying to say. I don't think anyone in my life still does. Though, medication now does allow me more even days than low.

Let me give you an overview of the mindset of some who is suicidal. Suicide is a symptom of mental disorders and typically associated with depression. With an acute suicidal mindset the person has dissociated enough to override their survival instincts. That's a big deal! This dissociated state usually doesn't allow them to reach out.

My depression, anxiety (social and generalized) and complex trauma disorders can literally take over my life.

I will not eat. I will not shower. Brush teeth, what's that? My dogs need to drag me out of bed to go outside and I'll take the opportunity to chainsmoke. I won't go to work, a 5 hour shift is too draining (thank the universe for flexible schedules). I feel I'm a burden to everyone around me. I will sleep 12 to 15 hours a day. I dont engage in conversation with my fiance RIGHT NEXT TO ME. For gods sake calling someone adds to my list of shit that never gets crossed off. So many fucking obligations.

Literally, it is not even on my mind to burden someone else with this shit.

A few months before my attempt I started drinking 4 to 5 days a week, smoking a pack and a half a day, doing coke a couple times a week (literally never, had I ever wanted that shit in my life before) and smoking pot every day. I was doing everything to numb myself from feeling so fucking worthless. While I was throwing myself a pity party I didn't want to invite anyone! I felt like a waste of life. Useless goddamn oxygen thief. Like my fiance would be better off without me. Like people only think they care about me and will become disillusioned; I have fooled them into liking me. They will realize eventually how worthless I am too.

But see the thing is on the outside, apparently, it seems like I have my shit together (I guess I wouldn't know)

If only I had continued going to my therapist and taking medication. It had been 6 months.

I was dead sober when I attempted. I had been with friends literally only hours before. In my acute suicidal state I contemplated for nearly 20 minutes. My fiance was sleeping next to me when I took 10 Xanax. He was the one who found and carried my lifeless body. He was also right next to me when I woke up in the hospital.

You see, the signs were all there, most people would called me lazy or unmotivated. I am loved by others and have great people in my life but that's not enough when you despise your very core.

After my attempt, I felt coddled, angry, exhausted, embarrassed and alienated (even more so than before). In the hospital I was intubated and induced into a short coma a "sedation vacation" if you will. I didn't know how long I was out but after taking a couple days to relearn how to walk and piss by myself again it had been 4 days. I did receive calls, sometimes daily for awhile after I got out of the hospital. It was nice until I realized it was all just so they could keep tabs on me, like a goddamn child. Then again came the "you know you can call me"s

Eventually, it was all the same again. My father stopped reaching out, so did other family and close friends. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

If you know someone who is suicidal, has attempted or has suicidal ideation I'll tell you what I want my friends to know:

I is not your fault. I have been struggling with ideation since I was 8 years old, it took me 20 years to hit bottom. People struggle for some time before thinking this is a solution.

Reach out to catch up not check in. Also, call back if they do reach out to you; after a few to attempts to reach someone after awhile I assume I'm too much to handle and will completely disappear. I know its irrational and it only causes a downward spiral of isolation but it is difficult to interrupt those patterns.

Therapy, medication and daily rituals take up SO much energy. Some days I am so drained by 3pm I need to rest for the day. Honestly, who wants to be seen as lazy? No one. This is a huge red flag for depression.

They don't want to feel alone. I don't want to feel like my loved ones have the need to fix me but I do appreciate when constructive questions are asked. "How can I help you right now?" "Do you want to come up with a game plan or vent?" "What is something that you are grateful for?" Sometimes the answer will be "absolutely fucking nothing" "the world fucking sucks and life is pain" and "only my dog makes me not completely dead inside". In the end it is very appreciated.

They really do want to get better. They really do want to be happy and your love has held them up this far and it has never been wasted.

I hope this can help

💜💜💜💜

#suicide attempt surviver #depression #anxiety #complex trauma #communication #cptsd #cptsdsurvivor #mental health #mental wellbeing #therapy #you can help

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broken-but-not-defeated · 5 years ago

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Open letter to my Mother in Law, part two of six, my depression

L-

Depression is one of those illnesses that seems to get tossed around at any moment of sadness or stress. I never want to be one of those people that claims to have a bunch of mental illnesses, when really I am just feeling normal emotions. I know you have a history of depression, so I would like to remind you that my depression may not be the exact same as yours, but that doesn’t make it any less valid or real.

For as long as I can remember, I have cared far too much about what others think of me. I try to stop it from happening, but I don’t know how. People say things like “don’t let them effect you” and “know your worth” but those are far easier said than done. The way my brain works, I have not found a way to shut that part of it down. This has been a huge contribution to my depression.

I was bullied from elementary school all the way through high school. And it’s weird, because if you had asked me when I was younger if I had ever been bullied, I would have said no. It was done so subtly, by most of the people I had ever met, and I grew so used to it that I thought it was normal. I thought boys were supposed to insult me, punch me, stomp on my toes, pinch me, and pull my hair, because that was supposedly the way boys showed affection. I thought that girls were supposed to befriend you one day only to speak so poorly of you the next because girls are just caddy. I thought that the way you grew as a person was by taking the criticism of your peers and changing yourself to match what they wanted you to be. And in doing that, I created so many different versions of myself that I completely lost touch with who I actually was. In the most formative years of my life, I was a puppet.

Every aspect of my character was changed and molded by everyone around me. I was told that the clothes I wore were wrong, the colors that I liked were wrong, my hair was wrong, my weight was wrong, my wearing glasses was wrong, my not wearing makeup was wrong, the music I liked and the books I read were wrong, the way I talked was wrong, my entire personality was wrong. I was told that if I wanted anyone to like me, I had to change these things about myself. And when I did change, I was laughed at and excluded by everyone for being ‘fake’ and giving in to peer pressure. I was called fat, ugly, stupid, dumb, pathetic, worthless, and a waste of a life.

These things were told to me by the people I considered friends. It started when I was about 8, and it didn’t stop. I grew up believing that this was friendship.

When I started dating, I attracted only the guys who would lie to me, manipulate me, and cheat on me. I didn’t know any different, and these guys knew that they could treat me any way that they wanted and I would always come back for more. I thought that this was love.

I would change every little bit of myself to match what others wanted me to be. I would wake up hours before school to shower, do my hair and makeup, and obsess over the perfect outfit. For a while, I’m sure I seemed vain. I believed that if I dressed a certain way, if I followed the directions of others, that I would finally be accepted. But it never worked. I have hated the color pink for the majority of my life because I was publicly shamed and ridiculed for being an innocent, goody two shoes, girly girl. So I started wearing all black. But then I would be attacked for being a ‘poser’ and trying to fit in. I was never big on wearing makeup, but I started because I was told that it was the only thing that would hide how ugly I am. But I was picked apart daily for not applying it the right way. I would hide my body behind layers of clothes to hide the fat that people always loved to point out, but the more layers I would add, the fatter I apparently looked. I gave up on all the things I was passionate about in favor of things that were trendy and popular, and was yelled at for even trying. I gave up on myself just like everyone else did.

No matter what I did or tried to do, nothing would work. I didn’t even want friends, I just wanted to stop being a flashing neon target. So after a while, I just stopped trying altogether. I wouldn’t shower or brush my teeth. I wouldn’t change my clothes or comb my hair. I wasn’t what anyone wanted me to be, and I wasn’t myself. I was nothing, empty, and numb. My mom saw this as me being a bratty teenager who just didn’t care. She would force me to shower, she would comb my hair for me, and she would always say how sad it was that I wasn’t trying. I see her perspective. But what she didn’t see was the years of trying that got me nowhere.

Have you ever seen a scene in movies or tv shows, where a person is lying in bed after a hard day. As they try to fall asleep, holographic heads start appearing all around them, replaying things that have been said to them. The heads start spinning, and the more that appear, the more they talk over each other until it’s a screaming mess of gibberish. Those scenes are a very dramatized but accurate representation of what my mind likes to do to me every day.

There is a running list in my head of every bad thing that has ever been said to me. And each time something is added to that list, I can hear it in the person’s voice on a permanent loop. So many of them, constantly screaming at me. Like the one time a guy in 7th grade told me that I would be better off dead. For the longest time, I could hear him say it in my head over and over. But over time, I have forgotten what his voice sounds like. The words remain, but the voice fades. And when that happens, it is replaced with my own inner voice. So after years and years of being told all kinds of bad things about me, they have stayed with me. Never stopping, always there. But instead of some random guy repeating these things to me, it is now my own self. I have become my worst enemy, my biggest bully. Those people probably don’t even remember what they have said, but I cannot forget.

Now, anyone looking at this from the outside would clearly classify this as bullying. So, how was it that I would have said that I was never bullied? My brain has a way of making me think that I am crazy, that I am overreacting, and that nothing was really as bad as I made it seem. In my mind, the people around me were just reacting to me the way that anyone should. I made myself believe that I was the problem, that I was doing something wrong, and that therefore, I deserved it.

I had a full length mirror in my bedroom. I would take a dry erase marker and write on the mirror, from top to bottom, everything people said was wrong with me. In the end, it was so covered in writing that I couldn’t see myself anymore. I thought that I could fix each problem, one by one, and erase them, revealing my reflection as the person I was supposed to be. Maybe then, people would like me.

In 8th grade, I met a girl. She was new to our school, and quickly integrated into my group of friends at the time. We got to know each other really well, and I looked up to her. She was nice to me. One day, we were changing into our gym clothes, and I saw her body. From head to toe, she was covered in cuts and scars. I had heard of self harm before, but she just seemed so happy all the time, I never would have guessed. I asked her why she did it. She told me that whenever she was sad, she would do it to distract herself. It made her happy. And she was happy, or already appeared to be. Up until that point, I had never had any kind of coping mechanism. If it worked for her, maybe it would work for me too.

I went home that night after school, and self harmed for the first time. I was 13.

There is a lot of science behind why people self harm. It can be used as a distraction, a stress reliever, and even a physical representation of pain that cannot otherwise be seen. But it goes even deeper than that. When the human body experiences trauma, the brain sends out different chemicals and things to help the body heal. Some of those chemicals are also responsible for creating the emotion of happiness. So, by self harming, I fed my body more of those happy chemicals.

When someone thinks of addiction, they think of things like drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, and even caffeine. People rarely consider the fact that you can get addicted to the chemicals your body naturally produces. And that’s what happened to me. I was addicted.

I self harmed for three years. Most of the scars have faded by now, but some still remain. I started feeling suicidal. When I self harmed, I didn’t care if I lived or died. I did it because when I was thinking about the pain, nothing else in my head mattered. I did it because I didn’t feel like my emotions were real, but if there’s a scar, that meant that they were. I did it because it was all that I knew.

In high school, I dated a guy who made me want to be better, not for me, but for him. It was the same old stuff that had always been there, me changing for someone else, but it was disguised as love. I felt like I needed him, and that without him, life didn’t have worth. He made me promise that I would stop self harming, and I did. But it wasn’t because it was unhealthy of me to do, it was solely for him. I was 16.

One night, while I was filming a project for class with my friends, this guy and I got into a really bad fight. We were screaming at each other, saying anything and everything we could to hurt each other. The thing I was filming included a knife that I had to hold. In an effort to get the fighting to stop, I told him how tempted I was to self harm again. And it wasn’t a lie. I was extremely tempted and it was taking all of my strength not to. He called my parents and told them. This was the first they had ever heard of it, and they did not react well.

I was involuntarily put into therapy. My therapist was a perfect example of what not to do. She used me as a way to gain more clients, even calling my friends and my boyfriend during our sessions. Not to talk to them about me or with me, but to get them to come in and pay her more money. She did not care about me.

However, there were about two sessions where we actually talked about me and what I was going through. In those sessions, she taught me two things which have stuck with me, and which actually helped in my recovery.

1. My emotions and thoughts are valid and real, and nobody has the right to say otherwise. If I feel something, no matter what other people have to say about it, those emotions are mine and it is 100% okay to feel them.

2. In moments of crisis, when I feel like a relapse is inevitable, I need to know who my support system is, and how to get to them, as many of them as possible, as fast as possible.

I employed these things into my life immediately. My family and friends were trained, either by me or the therapist herself, how to help me. How to talk me down and get me to a place where I am thinking rationally. And it worked.

If I needed family support, I’d be surrounded by my parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins within the hour. If I needed friend support, I’d text my best friend and let him know where to meet me, and by the time I got there, he would be there along with all of our other friends. For the first time in a long time, maybe even the first time in my life, I felt real support. I was validated, understood, and helped. And when I met my husband, left the bad relationship I had been in, and got married, I was finally shown what real love is like. I saw what it was to be accepted. I started getting to know myself. I started healing.

So, when I packed my bags and moved across the country and away from my family and friends, I lost a huge part of the support that I had finally found. The people were still there for me, but I could only contact one at a time, and it could never be in person. I felt myself slipping again. The thoughts started coming back. I knew that I had to figure something out real quick.

As unconventional as it may seem, Facebook ended up being the answer. One post, and I could have upwards of 40 people, friends and family, commenting and supporting me. It was different, but successful. The same people who were trained how to help me could still help me. The support never went away, it just found a new platform.

That is, until THE post. You know the one.

I had gotten into a huge fight with your brother one night, and then you the next morning. Awful things were said about me, and with each one, the list in my head got longer, and the inner screaming got louder. I was in one of those crisis moments. One person was not enough to calm me down. I felt like I had nobody. I felt like I was crazy, like my emotions about the situation were over dramatic and not real. When I say that I needed support, I mean it. I NEEDED support. So I made a post.

In this post, I did not name you, your brother, or anyone else. I simply stated my thoughts on a certain topic. I vented. Anyone who didn’t know you or your brother had no idea who or what it was even about. All they knew was that I wasn’t right in my own head, and that I needed them. The comments were overwhelmingly positive. They said all the things they had been trained to. They validated me and my feelings. They made me feel like I wasn’t alone. These are people who have been in shoes very similar to yours, who have been on both your end of the argument and mine. They weren’t just my “little friends.” They were my support system. They were all I had.

But then your comments started flooding in. You called me immature, told me to grow up, defended yourself against me, and told me that it was all just a big miscommunication. You were a perfect echo of the part of my brain I was trying to silence. You said everything that I had already thought myself. And reading your comments, it was like all the rest disappeared. The positivity, gone. The support, gone. Your comments confirmed for me what I had spent so much time being afraid of, the fact that I was making it all up. I felt insane. I felt confused. I started second guessing myself, wondering if I had gotten it all wrong. I started believing that I was wrong, that I was the problem in all of this, that it was my fault, and that I deserved it. And just like that, my support system, my safety net, my coping mechanism, gone. That was almost two years ago.

I don’t post to Facebook anymore. It wasn’t immediate, but I did eventually relapse into self harm, because I didn’t know what else to do. I had made it 7 years. In the past year, things have been worse than they have ever been, but I am working hard every day to get better. The self harm, the suicidal ideation, I am working through it all and am doing better on my own each day. I am shopping around for a therapist that is affordable and good at their job, and I am making my way toward a permanent recovery. Not for anyone else this time, but for me.

I want you to know that I don’t blame anyone for any of this. Not you, not your brother, not my past relationships, not my past bullies. Yes, people have been awful to me, but the fact that my brain is the way that it is isn’t anyone’s fault. For people who are mentally healthy, a lot of this would have been a nonissue. But it is because I am not mentally healthy that things got as bad as they did. It is because I waited so long to reach out for help that things progressed so far.

You may be wondering how these things have lead to depression if they aren’t the direct cause. My brain is sick. It does not process information correctly. It has taken all of this and translated it into a language that only I know, one that makes me hate myself. My knowledge of myself and the way I see myself is skewed. Not because of others, but because of the way my brain has grown and developed. My experiences do not define who I am, but they are a part of my story. These experiences have been filtered through a web of depression, and hand delivered to me in an envelope that should have never existed. Having thick skin and letting things roll off your back is a lot easier when you aren’t mentally ill.

My depression is a demon that has taken over half of my brain. It makes me believe the worst lies about myself. It fixates on every single flaw that I have. It makes me feel like I am worthless, pathetic, and a waste of a life. It makes things like cleaning my room or taking a shower seem like climbing a mountain. There are days where I don’t have the energy to get out of bed. There are days where if I wake up and that’s the only thing I do that day, I consider that a success. I am a work in progress. I am meeting parts of myself for the first time, and learning how to accept myself for who I am. I am learning how to allow myself to feel emotion instead of repressing it or denying its existence. It is beyond difficult, but I know I can do it. I am not my depression, but I do have depression.

The next thing I want to talk about: my anxiety.

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willwin92 · 8 years ago

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I was tagged by @speechlessdragon thanks:D

Rules: answer all the questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions. (I don’t even think I watch that many people.) 1. Coke or pepsi: i drink more things pepsi makes, so i guess them. im more for root beer or dr pepper than either of these 2. Disney or dreamworks: pixar, tho theyre with disney so i guess them 3. Coffee or tea: sweet iced tea 4. Books or Movies: Books are more portable :) 5. Windows or Mac: i have both on my school computer so both i guess 6. DC or Marvel: DC for TV shows, Marvel for movies/netflix, both are good in comics. 7. Xbox or Playstation: Playstation 8. Dragon age or mass effect: neither 9. Night owl or early riser: night owl 10. Cards or chess: chess 11. Chocolate or vanilla: Chocolate! 12. Vans or converse: vans 13. Lavallan, Trevlyan, Cadash, or Adaar: I have no idea what this is asking 14. Fluff or angst: angst dangit. but an easygoing angst? 15. Beach or forest: I love forests<3 i also hate the beach, ironic for florida where theyre everywhere 16. Dogs or cats: Yes. 17. Clear skies or rain: Both! 18. Cooking or eating out: depends 19. Spicy food or mild food: spicy 20. Halloween/Samhain or Solstice/Yule/Christmas: christmas 21. Would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: a little too hot 22. If you could have a superpower, what would it be: elemental control. ie. fire, electricity, water, ice, air, etc, focused toward electricity and fire. 23. Animation or live action: both 24. Paragon or renegade: neither 25. Baths or showers: Showers. 26. Team Cap or Team Ironman: Cap. 27. Fantasy or sci-fi: Both, more heavily on the fantasy side tough 28. Do you have three or four favorite quotes, if so what are they: Yes.

1. “You have the right to get upset, over whatever it is that happened, just dont let it get you down too much and appreciate everything you have in your life because you have a lot to be thankful for” - Stay Happy - Natewantstobattle

if you want my thoughts on this quote, look for the natewantstobattle tag on my page, or wait for me to reblog it from myself, as just explaining the meaning of the video this is from took up a whole post.

2. “The loneliest people are the kindest, the saddest people smile the brightest, the most damaged people are the wisest, all because they do not wish to see anyone else suffer the way they do” - Unknown

this is a quote i have kept on me and used whenever i could for a long time, and it is close to me, personally. it shows that people who are trying to help you might actually be trying to protect you from learning the things they know in the way that they learned, because oftentimes it hurts to go through something.

3. “You gotta remember, no matter how bad things get, that life is fluid. there’s always the chance that something great is around the next corner” - Deadpool

this quote is one of the newest of these, but it still says things that are similar to what the other two are also trying to say. you matter, and tomorrow is just as important as today, in fact, tomorrow could be better than today, since you have the knowledge that today has given you to help you face tomorrow.

4. “you can count on me, like one, two three, and ill be there, and i know when i need it i can count on you like four, three, two, and youll be there, cause thats what friends are supposed to do” - Count on Me - Bruno Mars

this song is my personal statement regarding friendship. if i consider myself someone’s friend, i am willing to do anything to help them in any way i can.

29. Youtube or Netflix: both 30. Harry Potter or Percy Jackson: Harry Potter 31. When you feel accomplished: When I create something beautiful 32. Star Wars or Star Trek: Star Wars I am more familiar with than Star Trek 33. Paperback books or hardback books: hardback! 34. Horror or rom-com: yeah they’re both usually pretty dumb 35. To live in a world without literature or music: would be terrible 36. Pastel colors or dark colors: Dark 37. Tv shows or movies: both 38. City or countryside: Countryside. 39. If any other zodiac sign could describe you, what would it be: they would say that i am the least outspoken Leo they have ever met 40. If you could only listen to one album for the rest of your life what would it be: its too hard to decide, i like all of it too much, tho it would likely be something by Natewantstobattle 41. Cinema or theatre: I haven’t seen very many good live theatres so I’m tempted to say cinema 42. If you could be any fictional character’s best friend, who’d they be: i would be friends with Sora from Kingdom hearts because he is so sincere and happy 43. Smiling or smirking: i like smiles, and i wish i smiled more than i do 44. Do you collect anything: ive got this stuff

45: What is something you always forget exists until you see it and are surprised? love 46: The arts or sports? both??! 47: Eakspa igpa atinla? yes i understand Pig Latin 48. Worst movie or tv show you’ve ever seen: the fan4stic movie, it was pretty bad 49. If you could play any instrument, what would it be and why? i can already play the guitar, piano, and ocarina, tho id like to be better at them, as far as something new i cant play already, id like to play the violin 50. Your top priority bucket list activity: to go to Italy or meet Natewantstobattle 51. what is your favorite color? mine is purple.

the question i added is 51. i will tag as many as i can, but it will likely only be about 10-15

I tag: @lunaamethyst824 @jeepers-buddy @elijiahseekscombat @there-are-no-good-urls-left @psmayaps @another-nintendo-kid @average-for-april @sexy-drink-with-an-i @fuckedup-inmyhead @findingmyfire14 @canneverfixmyheart @mylittlesuperwhovian and anyone else who wants to :D

#natewantstobattle #stay happy #deadpool

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murasaki-murasame · 7 years ago

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Danganronpa V3 Liveblog Part 9 [Chapter 3 - Daily Life]

This time on DRV3, things get ~spooky~. Right in time for Halloween, funnily enough! Well, nearly.

Thoughts under the cut.

Well this chapter sure is weird. I wasn’t expecting such a big focus on occult stuff and religious stuff, but I guess it’s a natural turn of events. At least, the whole deal with Angie basically absorbing half of the remaining cast into her religion and then using her influence to impose strict order over everyone. I probably should have seen that coming. I’ve been creeped out for a while now, and this is the natural end result of her attitude. I really like it as a plot point. It’s kinda sad that since she died here it only really lasted for a single chapter, but still.

The heavy focus on her being more or less a cult leader who everyone outside of her group, and even at least one person in her group, wanted to take down one way or another made it fairly obvious after a while that she’d be the victim this time around. I was expecting at least one other member of her group to be dead as well, though. Mostly because the chapter three cases from the last two games both had two victims each. I guess it’s nice that they broke that pattern. I was really afraid that Tenko would get killed off, especially with how she’s gotten a good amount of focus and development recently. But she’s still alive, which I’m happy for.

And let’s be real here, it was obvious that Angie’s lab would be the crime scene as soon as the game pointed out that it has two doors with different locks on them, and that Angie likes to keep the door locked from inside while she works. That was just screaming ‘this is set-up for a locked room mystery’.

This chapter’s motive was the really bizarre thing, though. I did not see that one coming at all. The chapter title was worrying enough, but then we got to the stuff about resurrecting a dead person to bring them back into the game. That’s . . . something. I was confused for a while about how the process worked, since it was a motive for murder. Like, I guessed that maybe the ritual involved a sacrifice, but the game never really explained the actual mechanics of the ritual until near the end of this part, and it sounds like there’s no murder involved. So I guess it’s a ‘motive’ more in the sense that it’d sow disorder in the group and lead to murder that way. I think. I’m assuming that the ritual won’t work, obviously.

Seeing low-def 3D models of the dead characters was so goddamn weird and creepy. And now they’re ritualistically being hung upside down around a corpse. Yay.

Though before that, I should mention before I forget, there were also more weird hints at the overall story early in the chapter. As I kinda said last time, this chapter starts off with some sort of news story about a deadly metero shower. I’m not sure what to make of it. Was that the unprecedented crisis that Kirumi mentioned? I’m skeptical. But then again I’m kinda skeptical about every single hint at the overall story in this game because everything seems so fishy.

On that note, we also got the return of the funeral hinted at with the start of chapter two. So it seems like everyone was able to remember what seemed to be their own collective funeral. Not sure what to make of that. I can’t help but stick to my ‘this is literally purgatory’ theory, but I think that’s just what the game wants you to think. So then what’s the deal? Are the main characters in this game, like, clones or impostors or something? I have no idea. In general I can’t even begin to guess what this is leading to. I feel like the game’s just throwing out these absurdly weighty but vague ideas and making me think about these absurd ideas for where this might be going.

Like, we even had what seems to be the return of the New World Program machine from DR2, which was . . . weird as fuck. No idea what the deal with that is. And on the note of references to past games, we even had the return of the gold foil sword from DR1. That was probably closer to just being a reference though.

Oh, and on the topic of some of the more random things that happened, I still can’t work out what’s going on with the message on the tile in the garden. That’s still a mystery to me. And I don’t even know where to begin with that scene of Miu and Keebo in Miu’s lab. That sure was . . . something. I guess the game felt that it had been holding back too much on the fanservice-y CGs, lol. I wonder what the chances are that it might somehow be a pivotal scene to solving the case.

I’m also completely baffled by what’s going on with Monokuma just . . . shutting down, and Monodam taking over. The Monokubs confused me in general ever since they first showed up, but now I’m even more unsure what the heck the game is planning with them.

I did another small session of gambling and decided to get the skill that automatically reveals the first letter in the Hangman’s Gambit, and the skill that stops the reticle from moving, though I’m gonna have to wait to equip the latter one since it apparently takes up a lot of slots. I also must have forgotten to equip one of the Argument Armament skills last time since it was there for me to add to my list. I also managed to have enough friendship fragments by the end of this part to get the skill that automatically silences loud voices in Mass Panic Debates. I dunno if I’ll get the one about focusing on specific conversations.

Somehow I managed to get events in with Keebo, Maki, and Kokichi. I wanted to talk to Kaito, but in the later events he didn’t want to talk to me since he was sick. I don’t really have much to say about Keebo, other than that I’m still a bit baffled by how he’s basically just a comic relief character at this point. I mean, he looked so . . . badass and protagonist-y on the first promo poster we got. He’s even the single character shown on NIS America’s limited edition box set of the game. It’s weird. Anyway, moving on, I’m really liking Maki, but I think I’ll talk more about her in a minute. Kokichi is . . . slowly growing on me, honestly. The fact that he’s apparently a huge goddamn nerd who wanted to play Yu-Gi-Oh with Shuichi was pretty great. It’s still hard to get a read on him, though. He’s the sort of character who’s so two-faced that it’s hard to bother even trying to figure him out. But I still think there’s something worth discovering about him, so I’m prioritizing him a bit in free time events.

I almost forgot, but I wanna talk about the Shuichi-Kaito-Maki trio, and how much I love them right now. They’re so wonderful. I still have a huge soft spot for the Shuichi-Kaito dynamic. Especially after the part where Shuichi talked about how Kaito more or less completes him by balancing him out and making him feel happy and carefree in a way that he normally can’t. It’s just really heart-warming. But I also like that Kaito immediately stuck up for Maki and, like with Shuichi, forced her to get out of her shell. Shuichi and Maki really do both need someone reckless and impulsive like Kaito around to push them forward when they’d otherwise falter. Seeing Maki get bought into the training sessions was really nice. I like that she’s slowly warming up to them in her own way, and is actually taking Kaito’s words to heart.

I really like what this chapter’s been doing for Maki’s overall character development and depth. I wasn’t sure how I felt about her at first, but I really like her as a character now. The idea of her being an assassin who’s been forced to basically abandon her humanity and her personal relationships time and time again, but who also wants to live a better life and overcome the way she was raised, is really compelling to me. I also just really like her attitude, especially now that she’s not being secretive about stuff, and we know why she is the way she is. Her habit of saying ‘You wanna die?’ whenever Shuichi questions her about something is amazing and I love it. I’m also pretty glad I did her first free time event. Though, come to think of it, I’m pretty sure it was the part where she talked about the cult that had trained her, so . . . were you just unable to have free time events with her before this point? I guess that’d make sense, given her attitude before this chapter.

As for Kaito . . . I love this purple space boy with all my heart and soul, but god dammit I’m gonna get stuck in another loop of being suspicious of him. Argh. I’m just so suspicious of how he suddenly got all weird and sick a day or two before the murder, and how he spent a lot of time holed up in his room at night and thus feels like a prime suspect for the current case. It’s at least giving me horrible flashbacks to chapter three of DR2, with the despair disease or whatever they called it. Even though I know it’d be handled differently, it’d be lame if we got a repeat of the overall idea of an illness being related to the culprit deciding to murder someone. Especially with how aggressively telegraphed it was that something’s weird with him and he’s spending a lot of time alone. It almost feels like the chapter’s setting him up as being one of the immediate suspects, which I’d be glad for if it means he didn’t do it.

I think I’m at a bit of a loss as to who the other prime suspects would be, though. But that’ll presumably change once I get done with the rest of the chapter tomorrow. I just feel like there’s a lot of info I don’t have. I couldn’t even easily guess what the murder method was, based on the clip we got of her body. Probably because she kinda just showed up for a split second at the end of it. It looked like some kind of wound near her neck area. I think.

The main mystery here is obviously that it was a locked room scenario where the room was locked from the inside, but somehow the culprit got in and out while keeping the room locked from the inside after they left. Even though the last chapter literally had a character trying to tell everyone that they can use magic, this is shaping up to be way more Umineko-esque, especially with the creepy occult ritual going on. It honestly almost feels like a reference to Umineko, but locked room mysteries are a basic enough idea that it’s probably a coincidence.

I’m not entirely sure what my preliminary guess about the locked room trick is. This is a very different situation to something like Umineko, so I can’t really apply the same logic here. I guess my immediate thought would be that I’d like to check if the other door into the room is definitively locked from the inside. Just to be safe.

I also thought that Monodam stole the key away, so I’m not entirely sure how anyone locked the doors from the inside to begin with. If we at least assume that there’s only one valid key in play, and no, like, master keys floating about.

I easily lose track of the flow of time in this game, so it’s hard to remember, but I think the whole scene where Shuichi, Maki, and Tenko tried to convince Angie to stop the ritual happened after midnight, the night before they then walked in during the morning and found Angie’s dead body. So I think that’s the night that this case is revolving around. Which is part of why I’m suspecting Kaito, since I’m pretty sure that was one of the nights where he was holed up in his room, and Shuichi and Maki were doing training alone. I at least know that Kaito wasn’t with them during that whole scene, so . . . yeah.

I know that the clues mostly come during the investigation, but it really doesn’t feel like I have many clues at all to go by for this one at the moment. It at least feels like it’d be really hard to pin down anyone’s alibis since I don’t think we know about anyone having been running around during the night after the confrontation happened. I think Miu might have been working in the computer lab at that time, though, so since that’s kinda linked up to the same part of the building I guess she might play a part in verifying alibis and stuff. That’s about all I can think of, really. The only other person I can think of who might have been breaking curfew after the confrontation would have been, well, Kokichi, who I think they actually ran into shortly before the confrontation. I think everyone else was probably just in their dorms. Himiko got involved in the confrontation too, I guess, but I kinda doubt she killed Angie.

And, of course, a main issue is that aside from Kokichi knowing how to pick locks, I don’t know if anyone would have any unique ability to mess with the locks on Angie’s room. So in terms of each character’s individual ability to pull this crime off in the first place, everyone seems on almost even standing.

It’s probably pointless to predict things too much, but I guess my main three suspects would be Kaito, Tenko, and Kokichi, with Himiko and Miu at a more distant fourth and fifth place. I feel like I can trust Maki on this one, so the only other character who I have even the slightest evidence to suspect is probably Kiyo, purely because he’s gotten a fair bit of screen-time in this chapter.

I have a feeling Tenko didn’t do it, at least because I doubt she would have literally talked about wishing that Angie could die and attempting to basically arrange an assassination on her if she was going to end up killing her directly. But still, she obviously has the strongest motive to kill Angie, other than Maki I guess. And I’d really like to see where she as a character, and her dynamic with Himiko, will go in the long run now that Angie’s dead.

And on the note of motive, I would imagine that everyone on Angie’s side other than Tenko has no motive to kill her and are thus probably all innocent, while everyone on Shuichi’s side has a pretty clear motive to kill her. Which is why I’m only really suspecting people on his side, for the most part.

Also on a metagame-y note, I definitely feel more inclined to suspect a male culprit this time, after two female culprits. Which limits my options even more, though I’m not 100% sure on it.

I certainly hope this chapter plans to throw a curveball at me, and isn’t just blatantly signalling Kaito as the killer. But, I mean, that’s exactly what I said during chapter two, and look where that mind-set got me, lol.

#murasaki rambles #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 spoilers

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nostalgiaispeace · 8 years ago

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202.

On Saturdays, I like to… chilllllll

Where would you like to be a missionary to? somewhere out of the country.

What’s better — toilet paper rolled over top or underneath? over the top.

Which Scooby-Doo character are you most like (Scooby, Shaggy, Daphne, Fred, Velma, the monster, Scrappy?) i don’t know. i never watched it.

If you had to endure one natural disaster (i.e. hurricane, tornado, etc), what would you pick and why? hurricane, because i’ve already been through many so i know what it’s like.

What movie or TV show do you take guilty pleasure in watching? Teen Mom

If you had to describe your day as a traffic sign, what would it be? RED

What traditional stereotype would you classify yourself as? people call me emo so i’ll go with that.

What “group” did you belong to in high school? i was a loner.

If you wrote a book about yourself…what would it be about? probably my struggle with mental illness. If your house were burning down, what would you take and why? my stuffed frog - because it’s the only thing i have left from my Nanny and I can’t sleep without it; Scarlet’s urn - because she’s my baby. RIP

Describe your favorite pair of PJ’s. my grandpa’s PJ pants.

How many handbags do you own? one.

If this were your last day alive, what would you say to your friends? “see yah”

What is your very favorite part of your day? going to bed.

What is your best scar? Tell the story of how you got it. lol best scar?

You win a million dollars, but you have to give half to a charity. Which charity do you pick, and what do you do with the rest of the money? child abuse related charity.

Describe your dream wedding where money is no option. old hollywood

What kind of deodorant do you use? Secret.

If you were a spy what would your alias be? I don’t even know.

Do you have a birth mark? Where? Does it look like anything? yeah, on my ass, i’m not sure because I can’t see it.

You are planning the most awesome dinner party of your life. Which 3 celebrities/historical figures (past or present) would you add to your guest list to keep the dinner talk interesting? Marilyn Monroe, Lana Del Rey, Leonardo DiCaprio

What is your favorite sport, and which team of that sport do you cheer for? gymnastics

Which would you rather have a kiss or a hug? Why? both are nice from Matt because i love him

If you could be a pair of jeans what style would you be? Why? jeggings because they are comfy

You have multiple personalities, describe some of them. that’s really rude.

What is the best thing you have done in your life? i wish i knew.

If you were blind for the rest of your life… what would you miss seeing the most? films and books; the faces of my favorite people.

What household chore do you hate the most? dishes

What is your most disappointing moment in life? none of your business

When have you laughed the hardest? Cried? i don’t know....it’s happened alot?

If you had a “theme song” that played whenever you walk into a room full of people, what would it be? Antivist by Bring Me the Horizon

What is the first thing you notice about the opposite sex? their face?

What time period from the past would you most have liked to live in and why? 1950s. I want to be a house wife and see all of Marilyn’s movies in Theatres and meet her.

What is the best reward anyone can give you? love and support.

If you had a band what would you name it? Screaming Redemption

Do you like fruit? Vegetables? yes; no

What can someone do to encourage you? just say i can do it and it’ll be okay.

If you could be one for just 24 hours, what cereal box cartoon character would you be? Why? um i dont know.

What was the best thing that happened to you this weekend? the golden globes will be the best thing.

What is your favorite animal? List three adjectives to explain your choice. kitties. fluffy, cute, meows

What is your favorite color? List three adjectives to explain your choice. orange; no

It’s a very hot and muggy day. You desperately want something very cool and refreshing to quench your thirst and revitalize your body. What would you drink — either make your own or store-bought. mtn dew or water.

You discover that the person you’re head-over-heels interested in loves a good homemade & handmade dessert. What will you concoct when you have this person over? brownies and vanilla ice cream.

What would you leave in your will for the person you care about the most? my harry potter stuff.

What do you consider to the most valuable thing you own: when you were a child/teenager/now? my stuffed frog

What’s the kindest act you have ever seen done? helping the homeless i guess

If you could have any job in the world, which one would you want? in a band or a criminal psychologist.

What are your best/worst subjects in school and what subjects would you want to learn now? science - worst; psychology - best

What are you most talented at? singing

What is your worst nightmare today? this headache i have

How often do you clean between your toes? every time i shower.

What is your favorite way to waste time at work without getting caught? going pee.

If you could have had the starring role in one film already made, which movie would you pick? Inception

If you were to perform in the circus, what would you do? i don’t wanna do that. If you could eliminate one thing you do each day in the bathroom so that you never had to do it again, what would it be? makeup

You were just given a yacht. What would you name it? Ashley’s Yacht

If you could have been told one thing that you weren’t told when you were a teenager, what would you like to have heard? “it’ll be okay”

You’ve just been hired to a promotions position at Kellog Co. What would you put in a new breakfast cereal box as a gimmick? um...i don’t fucking know.

Just like “Everybody Wang Chung tonight!”, what action would your name be if it were a verb? ..........

Name your favorite song. since i’ve been loving you - zeppelin If you were to get a tattoo, what would it say or what would the graphic be? i want a marilyn portrait eventually and her autograph

If you could play any musical instrument, what would it be and why? If you already play an instrument(s), what do you play and why? piano; it’s pretty

When trick-or-treating as a kid, was there any kind of candy that you didn’t like to get? no. all candy is great.

Why do you live in the Washington DC area? i dont..

What is your favorite memory of Christmases past? dunno

What is the most outrageous thing you’ve done for God? nothing...

If a movie was being made of your life and you could choose the actor/actress to play you, who would you choose and why? Shailene Woodley because apparently we look alike and she’s talented.

Paper or plastic? Paper. What was the weirdest food you’ve ever eaten? unno. squid?

What do you keep in the trunk of your car? junk

When you were in grade school, what did you want to be when you grew up? Why? singer; because i wanted to be

If you owned a CB radio what would your “handle” be? unno

If you were given 24 hrs to live, what would you do? sleep

If you were in the “Miss America” talent competition, what would your talent be? (Note: both guys & gals have to answer this question) singing

What do you think the most ultimate gift of the world is? love

What is your earliest childhood memory? my dad leaving i guess

What was your favorite TV show when you were growing up? i didn’t have one.

If you had one extra hour of free time a day, how would you use it? read.

What CD is in your CD player right now? I don’t have a CD player.

The great theologian Andy Warhol stated that everyone gets 15 minutes of fame. What happened during your 15 minutes? lol myspace

Name the most famous person you’ve had a face to face encounter with. the harry potter cast - mainly Tom Felton

Name your favorite children’s story. don’t have one.

If you could spend 15 minutes with any living person, who would it be and why? Lana Del Rey

What person in the Bible do you most closely identify with? Judas probably.

What article of clothing most closely describes your personality? i’m not sure.

If you were to write a book what would it be about? a memoir

How many rings before you answer the phone? i don’t really answer my phone

What is the first thing you think of when you wake in the morning? "i wanna go back to sleep”

If you won a million dollars, what would you do with it? buy a bookshelf, have a wedding, and move

If you had to, what part of your body would you get pierced? lip

Who was your favorite teacher and why? my first and 4th grade teacher, my criminal psychology professor

What makes you feel the most secure? my apartment

Who do you admire the most? my mom

Have you ever had a reoccurring dream? What was it? yeah; the end of the world.

What was your nickname growing up? Muffins

Who was your hero when you were a child, and what did you do to be like them? Emma Watson. I just dressed like her

Peanut or plain? ummmm

What is your favorite cartoon character & why? Simba; cause

How did you learn to ride a bicycle? my mom taught me i think

Based on something you’ve already done, how might you make it into the Guinness Book of World Records? nothing..

What’s the closest you’ve come to becoming a pop star/winning an Oscar? not close...lol i mean i’ve acted in indi films, student films, and a discovery channel show.

When was the last time you did something for the first time? What was it? don’t know

What is your concept of a fruitful day? chilling

What was your favorite thing to play with as a child? Why? my lion king action figures.

If you could be any animal in the world for 24 hours, which animal would you be? Why? hmm a cat or an orca.

Have you ever jumped out of a plane? NO

If you could rid the world of one thing, what would it be? ignorance

What is your best personal characteristic? dunno

What is your favorite quote? "i am fucking crazy, but I am free”

If you could be invisible for a day, what would you do? i don’t even know tbh

What is your favorite weird food combination? i dont know?

If you had to be a flower, which one would you like to be and why? Lillies because they are my fav

If you were stranded on a desert island, what three books and three people would you take with you? 3 harry potter books; my mom, matt, amber

My biggest pet peeve is… ignorance

What is your favorite commercial? What commercial annoys you the most? i don’t watch commericals

What’s the most interesting “Ice Breaker” Question you have ever been asked? I dont know

If you could be an ice cream flavor, what would it be? Why? dunno

Name a turning point in your life that makes you smile/cry. moving into my own apartment

If there were a holiday in your honor what would it celebrate? my birth

What clubs were you a member of in High School? Are you still interested in any of the same things? theatre

If you were to be on a reality TV show which one would you be on and why? none.

If you could be anything in the world, what would you be and why? singer.

If someone rented a billboard for you, what would you put on it? my website.

If you had to enter a competition for the “Most Uselessly Unique Talent,” what would your talent be? screaming

If you were a Smurf, what would your name be? -

What is your worst personality characteristic? everything

If you had to be a teacher of something, what would you teach? Psychology

How would you like to be remembered? i don’t care

What is one thing that you constantly think about (other than material things)? bills

What do you like best about your hometown? my mom is there.

Something interesting you might not know about me is… um...i dont really know

#me #survey

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