#i feel personally attacked by how it made me relive that memory

[angeart]

I misread chapter 53's title as shitting sand i'm so sorry. My first thought was "what the hell is scar doing now" and i just accepted it T-T

i just got war flashbacks from mistyping shirt as shit when talking about brightly coloured shirt that matches grian's wings (for hhau wedding—)

but i love that you just rolled with it and accepted it LOL

[barcodeboyz]

My top 10 favorite South Park episodes, no one asked but here we go

10. With Apologies to Jesse Jackson

This is a controversial episode to put here because of how offensive it is, and truthfully, I didn't care too much for the A plot. But the B-plot makes up for it. Watching Cartman and a Midget fight to Get Down with the Sickness is so hilariously absurd.

9. You're Getting Old/Ass Burgers

This is the second/third episode I remember watching before I got into the show. I included them both in one spot because Ass Burgers is a continuation of You're Getting Old, but each have their own separate charm. I definitely shed a tear when Stan moved out to Fleetwood Mac's Landslide and split my sides laughing as Kyle yelled at Cartman for sticking the burgers up his ass. I also heavily relate to Stan's meltdown in class in Ass Burgers, because that's real emotion. An amazing storyline overall.

8. Make Love, Not Warcraft

I mentioned that the previous two episodes were some of my first episodes, but not THE first episode. That title goes to this episode. When I was born, my brother was 15, and as I grew up, I often watched him play World of Warcraft. So this episode is very nostalgic to me, not just because him and I watched it but because as someone who plays WOW nowadays (very inconsistently), it's so nostalgic to see how much has changed.

7. The Losing Edge

This is just a classic episode. The boys don't want to participate in baseball and try to get out of it by losing, but the other teams have the same idea. I think we all know who the real star of the episode is: Randy. I thought this was America!

6. Trapped in the Closet

Subtlety is completely ignored in this episode. As Stan is praised as the reincarnation of L. Ron Hubbard, his comments about Tom Cruise send him literally into the closet. I think my favorite bit in the episode is R. Kelly's Trapped in the Closet verses, specifically when he pulls out a gun in Stan's room and everyone in the hallway runs away.

5. Major Boobage

This episode is... beautiful. The animation is impressive, and the story is hilarious as well. Kenny and Gerald cheesing and then getting into a fight, Cartman reliving the Holocaust with the cats, and the funny ass press conference given just solidify this episode as legendary.

4. Le Petit Tourette

This episode introduced my favorite one-off character, Thomas. But even more than that, it gave us a great story and a chance for us to see Cartman's plan blow up in his face. While it ultimately never came to fruition due to Kyle's actions, it's satisfying to know that he definitely revealed a deep secret or two in exchange for almost slandering minority groups on national TV.

3. Follow That Egg

I have vague memories of watching this episode as a kid, but I don't consider it as one of my firsts because I could only really recall them running through the crowd trying to save their grade. But it's a fantastic episode. Ms. Garrison's attempts to stop gay marriage from being legalized, to Stan's comical bitterness towards Kyle and Wendy, it all comes together and compliments each other well.

2. D-Yikes!

I didn't expect to get so personal on a South Park top 10 list, but it's the honest truth. South Park became a major comfort for me after my assault. And this was the first episode I watched that made me burst out laughing since the attack; Ms. Garrison screaming "scissor me timbers!" has got to be one of the funniest lines in the show's history. And overall, it's just a fun episode to watch.

1. Guitar Queero

This is an underrated masterpiece of an episode that more people should watch. The plot of the episode feels so fluid, and everything about it makes sense to me. The rise to stardom, falling to drugs (well, video games about drugs), losing it all and returning to give it one final shot just encompasses what South Park can really do when given the right tools. Maybe I'm biased because Season 11 is my favorite season, but something about this episode just really scratches my brain.

Anyways, that's my list! Thanks all for reading.

[ineedrickgrimes]

Chapter 4: Ben

(Third Person)

Alby wakes up early one morning, with the intention of waking up Thomas so he can carve his name into the maze wall. He quietly walks around all the boys sleeping, trying not to wake them up. He gets over to Thomas and covers his mouth with his hand. He lets out a quiet “Thomas” and shushes him. He takes his hand off Thomas face and asks him to follow him. Thomas quickly gets up and follows him.

While Alby and Thomas Walk towards the maze wall Alby decides to tell him a little snippet about how it was in the glade. “It’s peaceful, isn’t it? I know it’s hard to believe, but it wasn’t always this way. We had dark days. We lost a lot of boys to fear, to panic. But we’ve come far since then. Established order, made peace.”

“Yeah, why are you telling me this,” Thomas says still looking confused as always.

“Because you’re not like the others, You’re curious. But you’re one on us now. You need to know what that means,” says Alby while placing a knife in his hand.

He points at the wall behind Thomas to show him the names of the other Gladers, some crossed out for obvious reasons, but Thomas still looks concerned.

“What happened to them?” Thomas asks and points at the names crossed out on the wall.

“Like I said dark days, Thomas,” Alby says with a little crack in his voice, as if he was reliving horrible memories.

Thomas takes a few steps closer to the wall and holds up the knife to a free space at the wall and starts to carve his name, like he’s finally become a real Glader.

(Y/N’s Perspective)

I was sitting in the Med-Jack finishing wrapping up a slicers hand after he damaged it. I let him go knowing that he’s going back out to continue working hoping that he doesn’t cut it up again. Clint and Jeff are also in the Med-Jack hut helping bandage people up. I decide to clean up the place a little, but before I could get to it, I hear someone yelling help from outside. I look at Clint, Jeff and their patients and they all have their heads looking at each other as well. I immediately start to panic. Last time I heard someone screaming out for help was when Newt had his accident.

I rush out the door and look to see where the sound is coming from. In the distance I see a group of boys near the Gardens. I start running over to see the commotion with a bit relief that it wasn’t a situation like Newts. Once I get over, I squeeze through some of the boys to see that situation. Ben on the ground with Gally, Newt and Frypan holding him down.

“Yo, What the hell happened?” Asks Frypan.

“He just attacked me,” Thomas says while quickly getting up and wiping dirt off himself. Alby walks over and Ben has a look of some sort of realisation in his eyes.

“No, No, No,” Ben starts wriggling around. Alby notices that something is off. “Alright, Lift his shirt.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Ben screams out as Newt lifts up his shirt to reveal a nasty sting. My hand covers my mouth immediately. I can feel everyone around my move back a little, quite obviously scared.

“He’s been stung, in the middle of the day,” Gally points out and Alby crouches down beside him. It is scary to think about that. No one had ever been stung in the day before, which I think had everyone a little on edge.

“Help me, please. Please. Please, just help,” Ben cry’s out. I can tell he’s in a lot of pain by the way he’s keeping his eyes closed tightly, his whimpering and rapid breathing. Right now, there is no time to worry about his pain, it’s clear he’s going to be banished for trying to attack Thomas.

“Put him in the pit. Come on, everybody help,” Alby says, and everyone starts to back away while Gally, Newt, Frypan and Jeff carry him away while everyone walks back to work.

(Third Person)

Everyone is gathered around the opening of the Maze door with their sticks. “Just listen to me. Just, please, listen to me. Please Minho,” Ben growls out while Minho walks him to the front of the Maze door and in the middle of everyone. Minho forces him down onto his knees and cuts the rope that was holding his hands ties together. Thomas and Chuck are watching this from the outside the circle.

Ben is sitting on his knees coughing and crying. “No, no please. Please don’t. Please don’t do it,” Ben cry’s out. Minho throws in Ben’s pack and then the maze door starts rumbling signalling that they’re going to start closing.

“Poles!” Alby calls out and everyone faces their poles towards Ben. “Move in,” Alby calls out again and everyone starts inching closer to Ben. By this point Chuck has walked away leaving Thomas to watch this all by himself. Everyone start pushing Ben closer in while the door is inching closer and closer.

“No. No, no, no. Please. No. Please. Please. Please don’t! No, I can get better! Please! Just listen to me!” Ben continues to cry out for help as the boys continue to push him into the Maze. The boys fully push him in and now he as no other choice. He either has to be squished by the maze doors or go inside the maze.

“I’ll get better! I’ll get better!” Ben screams out desperately. Ben takes one last looks inside the Glade before the maze doors fully close of him.

Everyone stands in place without saying a word. Alby looks around at everyone until his eyes land on Thomas who has an upset look on his face.

“He belongs to the maze now,” says Alby before walking off. All the boys and Y/N lay their poles against the maze walls and also walk off.

(Y/N Perspective)

Later that night I’m laying in my hammock trying to get to sleep. In the distance I can see Gally crossing out Bens’s name on the wall, with a couple of the other boys holding fire so he can see properly. It essentially lights up that whole corner of the Glade.

“Do you think he might make it?” Thomas Asks Chuck. Thomas is sitting down on his hammock also watching Gally, While Chuck is laying down in his hammock.

“Ben? No. No one survives a night in the Maze. You just gotta forget about him,” Chuck replies to Thomas. It’s pretty solid advice. No one is ever going to see Ben ever again; we all know it and there is nothing anyone can do to change it. Chuck rolls over facing away from Thomas.

“Go to sleep, Thomas. He isn’t going to come back,” I say to Thomas.

He turns and faces me, then nods his head before laying down in his hammock and falling asleep.

Tags: @honethatty12 @sagittariusmoonlover

Boring chapter I’m sorry. Also not a single bit of interaction with newt in this but maybe next chapter. I was trying to find a place to write any interaction between because I don’t know.

[j0kers-light]

His Lighthouse: Mind Games (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Mind Games

series summary:  

Y/n is an aspiring writer living in Gotham City and struggling to find her next muse. Her recent novel is getting all the buzz, earning her far more attention than she signed up for. But when a chance encounter results in her nursing The Joker back to health, will she find the time to write another best seller or will her own story become front page of the Gotham Gazette?

chapter summary:

The mind is a dangerous weapon, you should know this firsthand. Surely this all can't be real? But if so.. then who's lying? And who's telling the truth?

author's note:

Its been far too long loves! I'm back with a new update and boy is this one a doozy! Forget everything you thought happened last chapter and just read from the top! Things will slowly start to make sense or trick you. I hope you enjoy either way! I had a song selected for this chapter but in the end, it didn't fit the overall mood. Maybe next time.

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster  @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

When did your mind start playing tricks on you? Did you hallucinate the entire conversation or just bits and pieces? When did it all go horribly wrong?

Your head was pounding and you didn't remember a thing after Bruce stepped closer to you.

When your back hit the balcony railing, it set off a trigger that made you instantly disassociate. You didn't hear Bruce's smooth voice after that as it was replaced with another from your past— one that you tried so hard to forget. It was sickly sweet and made you feel dirty inside and out.

Words and phrases were twisted around until you didn't know what to believe anymore. The background changed from your rooftop balcony to that damp and dark alleyway and that's when you knew nothing beyond this point was real.

Deep down you knew Bruce would never be this cruel but you couldn't be too sure. He was a gentleman... this wasn't real, but your mind made it seem very realistic.

Your memories from that night were back and you couldn't bear to relive it again.

'It's not real.' You repeated over and over as your mind spiraled out of control.

Bruce noticed you were shivering and covered your shoulders with a heavy blanket. He sighed when you tensed up and wrapped the fabric around yourself like a shield. You were so jumpy lately, it really had him concerned.

He didn't understand why you were so distant towards him. Bruce could be the bigger person here and ask why despite the awkward tension festering between the two of you.

"How do I say this? You've been distant lately. Especially to me." He said. He wasn't expecting your timid voice to respond so quickly.

"Uh.. yeah? I hope so since I broke things off with you and if you haven't noticed over dinner— I've moved on. You're the one that keeps being nice and trying to get along with my parents.."

Bruce strained to hear what else you said under your breath but he caught your eyes blinking a mile a minute. That was unusual.

"Y/n, are you alright?" He asked.

"Yeah." You said without missing a beat.

He frowned and stepped closer, causing you to back away and hit the balcony railing with your hip. You slurred more of your words together.

"Are you sure? You look unwell, Y/n. Perhaps we should get you inside."

You were mumbling under your breath but Bruce couldn't hear a word. He knew something was wrong when you held your head and started hyperventilating. Then it hit him. You were having a panic attack.

His Batman instincts immediately kicked in.

"Breathe in and out, Y/n. Whatever it is, it's not real. Can you hear me? Y/n?" You avoided his touch but Bruce was persistent in trying to calm you down.

"Whatever is hurting you Y/n, please let me inand—"

Bruce never heard a scream as blood curdling as yours.

It's like he said the magic words and triggered old memories, for you immediately began fighting his hold, kicking and screaming with all your might. Bruce was a strong individual, with or without the bat suit, but he struggled trying to keep you still. You were too close to the balcony ledge for his liking so he corralled you back towards the apartment to keep you safe.

Everyone in the penthouse heard your horrified scream and woke up out of their slumber to investigate.

Your mom and dad were unfortunately veterans to this and knew exactly what was going on so they rushed straight to the scene.

Barbara, Morgana, and Dick however stumbled out of their rooms and followed the commotion out onto the balcony, not truly understanding what was going on in.

They all arrived to witness you screaming at the top of your lungs and clawing at Bruce's arms like a feral cat. He was trying to calm you down but the scene looked rather odd without any context.

Your parents would walk in while the two of you were in a suggestive position.

Bruce did a double take at the shocked audience and shouted, "Don't just stand there, help me!" You resorted to biting him and he almost lost his grip on you again if not for his leg pinning you down.

Your mother panicked seeing you in a fit of hysterics and she couldn't blame you. You were being manhandled during such a delicate situation.

"Let go of her!" She rushed to Bruce's side and snatched you out of his hold.

The second you felt a female presence, you stopped fighting back but continued to cry uncontrollably.

Your father slid to your side but kept his distance as to not set you off again. He felt useless not being able to help in your time of need yet your mother quickly stepped up to the plate in his stead.

"It's okay sweetheart. It's over, it's over. He's gone. You're safe now. It's all over." Your mother shushed in your ear. She rocked you like a baby as you choked back tears.

"P-Please stop! It hurts!" You wailed. Your mother blinked back her own tears while rubbing your back in big comforting circles. Your father met her gaze as they held a private conversation.

It's happening again.

"It's not real, Y/n. You're safe now." Mom glanced at Bruce's bloody arms and winced. "Babe, can you go find the first aid kit for Bruce?" She whispered to your dad so you wouldn't hear.

Everyone's eyes focused on the angry red claw marks your nails left on Bruce. Just what happened here? Your father grimaced at the bite mark but stood up to make himself useful.

You pleaded again, trapped in a distant memory and Morgana choked back a sob hearing her friend in so much pain.

It was too much to witness and she turned away to cry. Dick stood off to the side, oddly quiet, but concerned for his sister. Everyone was.

Barbara couldn't stand the silence and cried out, "What happened Bruce?"

Multiple curious eyes watched the billionaire rub the back of his head. Your father came back with the first aid kit and started accessing the damage you left. "She's still a fighter (mother's name). I bet these hurt like a mf, lemme see." 

Bruce had suffered worse injuries but your nails were rather sharp so he let your father dab alcohol on each scratch to flush out the blood. Bruce had yet to answer the question on everyone's mind.

Your mother looked Bruce dead in the eye and arched an eyebrow. He thought he was gonna get the scolding of a lifetime at the intense e/c staring him down.

He started from the top and explained.

"I genuinely do not know. It's chilly out so I came to offer Y/n a blanket. I tried striking up a conversation about what happened over dinner but she started blinking excessively and clutching her head as if she had a headache. Her back hit the railing and I think she began to have a panic attack. When I tried to calm her down, she became combative."

You whimpered in your mother's arms as you finally fell asleep. She sighed in relief and swapped places with your dad.

She knew he felt useless and he gladly held you close now that you were unconscious and unaware of a male's touch. Your mom waved Bruce over and set about applying Neosporin to his scratches.

They were rather deep but they would heal in a few days time. He declined bandaids and she snapped the first aid kit closed and spoke.

"Don't blame yourself for this. Y/n had a very stressful day and her mind isn't functioning properly because of it."

"That doesn't explain what happened? Is Y/n okay?!" Morgana returned to the conversation with tear tracks still visible on her face.

She never seen you so distraught before. It was like a completely different person possessed your body just then. What kind of friend was she to not notice how much pain you were hiding? She wasn't any better than Florence.

Barbara was thinking the exact same thing. You needed solid friends right now and she was the worst one imaginable.

Your mother took a look around and sighed at the somber air on the balcony. She was emotionally drained after consoling you and it appeared that everyone else was drained as well.

"I think it's time to address the elephant in the room." She sighed. Your father shared a look with his wife. "You think Y/n will like that?"

Mom rolled her neck and snapped.

"D__n it, (father's name)! These are her friends! This episode clearly shows she's been suffering alone! They can help if they know what's going on! She can't keep bottling this up forever; it's killing her. Do you like seeing her like this? Reliving that night every time she's touched the wrong way or backed into a corner?"

Your father bit out his reply. "Of course I don't! But when Y/n wakes up and sees everyone eyeing her in pity, she'll recluse herself again. It's why she moved in the first place. Not everybody heals the way y'all doctors assume people should!"

Dick sighed and stepped in between the feuding couple. This could go on all night if someone didn't stop them.

They both eyed Dick, wondering what the charismatic boy was fixing to say.

"Unofficial, but official, adopted parents please. Go get Y/n situated then meet us back in the living room." Dick didn't wait for them to respond, he just asked Morgana and Bruce to follow him inside as he helped Barbara's wheelchair get over the balcony's sliding door hump.

Your parents didn't dispute his request. They got you settled in bed before coming back out into the living room with no further arguments.

Your friends were gathered around your living room in various stages of alertness. Dick handed out drinks to go with the sweets Barbara baked earlier.

After being woken up so abruptly, sugar was vital to stay awake.

Exhaustion was all around but this was an important meeting that was about to transpire. Not a second could be missed.

Your dad sat down with a sigh and pulled your mother into his lap.

They finally looked their age as they gathered their thoughts to begin. The air in the room was heavy for the next hour and a half as they explained everything to your closest friends.

What they had to say was absolutely horrifying.

"You sure you'll be alright dear?" Your mother asked.

She stood in the foyer as Dick and her husband loaded the car downstairs with leftovers early Friday morning.

The morning came with hushed trepidation but the crew was forced to eat breakfast without you.

You had slept on through the night without any other episodes and your mother didn't anticipate for you to wake up until late this afternoon.

Her and your father had to head back to Blüdhaven and Dick offered to drive them so they didn't have to catch a train. Bruce had to head into the office for board meetings and after apologizing to your parents, (your mother assured the billionaire that this wasn't his fault) he left with the promise that he would check on you later today.

Barbara wanted to stick around but she had to return to work herself which left Morgana volunteering to stay at your penthouse to take care of you.

The perks of being your own boss, she joked. 'You make your own hours.'

Morgana smiled at your mother and nodded.

"Yes ma'am, I'll be alright. Dick showed me around so I got a feel of the place. Leftovers are in the fridge so if she wakes up, I'll make sure she eats and provide her lots of emotional support. You told me what to do if she... that happens again." Morgana scratched her cheek, still processing all that was discussed last night. Or rather this morning.

Bruce, Barbara, Dick, and Morgana saw you in a new light after your parents revealed your dark past and they each swore not to cast a shred of pity on you.

You needed them more than you let on.

Barbara and Morgana were beside themselves hearing about your past and they felt awful for almost ruining a friendship over a silly rumor Florence hatched up. That was the least of their concerns right now. Getting you back in high spirits was the only priority.

Morgana called her employees and asked them to deliver a crate of assorted flowers to your apartment building.

You loved her creations so she would surprise you with a giant bouquet for your apartment. It was a tiny gesture in the grand scheme of things but Morgana was willing to do anything to make you happy after last night.

Flowers could liven up the place and ward off bad spirits. She made a mental note to water your sunroom plants while she was here.

"Well dear, you have my number if you need me." Your mother hugged Morgana right as Dick came through the door saying they were ready to go. "You take good care of my baby! We'll be back in a few more weeks." She said.

"Call me if you have a question, Morgana!" Dick offered to the florist.

Morgana waved them both off and closed the door after more pleasantries were exchanged.

Your parents were super cool. Morgana was lucky to have met them even despite the terrible circumstances. She sighed to herself and thought aloud. "What a day.. and it just started."

She had the place to herself until you woke up so she went about accessing the state of your household plants.

They looked a little worse for wear and could stand a special treatment.

The day trickled on and Morgana spent the majority of it working on the lush floral display her employees dropped off at your place. She twisted exotic and local flowers into a gorgeous statement piece but something was missing.

Morgana was wracking her head around exactly what when she swore she heard your bedroom door close.

"Y/n?"

She looked towards the hallway but didn't see anything. A glance at the clock set the day around one in the afternoon.

Your mother was right about you sleeping in. It meant this happened numerous times in the past for her to have a predetermined schedule.

Morgana shivered. How long have you suffered like this?

She saw a blanket-clad figure float down the hallway and set a pink rose down to follow you.

"Y/n are you..." You slammed the door shut right in her face.

Morgana stuttered in shock but pushed it back open only to watch you crawl under the covers. This was so unlike you. "Y/n are you hungry?" She asked hesitantly.

You shifted under the covers away from Morgana's gentle voice.

Your mom warned her that you'd be antisocial for the next twenty-four hours but urged the florist to get some food and water in you. You lost a lot of fluids from crying last night and needed to replenish yourself or risk getting sick.

Morgana sighed at your lack of response but left to fix you a simple plate of food to eat with some water. You were still a hermit when she returned to the bedroom. You were gonna make this babysitting thing difficult.

Morgana sat the glass of water down on the nightstand should you wake up thirsty.

"I left some water and a plate of food if you feel up to it, Y/n." She said.

You remained buried under covers with no plans of returning to the real world. Dick had invaded Joker's room and erased the comforting scent of lighter fluid and cinnamon from the bed sheets.

With the sea of uncertainty floating within your head, you needed something familiar to ground you to the present. You craved Joker and his unique scent but he was nowhere to be found.

You whimpered dejectedly and Morgana's heart went out to you.

She wanted to offer you some emotional support but decided to leave you be. No words of encouragement could help the pain you were in.

She checked on you one last time before leaving your room. Her mind was focused on you and not her surroundings. She received the jump scare of a lifetime when she turned the corner.

"Holy s__t!" Morgana yelped.

Joker pursed his lips and watched your friend try to scramble away. Morgana knocked a figurine on the hallway table over but remained on her feet for the most part. The bauble smashed onto the floor in several pieces and Joker hummed offhandedly at its demise.

"I uh li-ked that one. So! I'm guessing you're the... florist friend."

He blocked her escape and tilted his head in a show of intimidation. It worked like a charm. Morgana's brown eyes were wide like saucers.

"Y/n likes your work. The uhh.. arrangements.. from Arrange Me NoT.. ya see. I wasn't ex-pect-ting visitors so uh sorry bout this..." Joker went to grab Morgana but she shoved the decorative table in his direction and bolted down the hallway.

Joker sighed and gave her a head's start before he easily caught up to her in the living room.

He yanked her back by her hair and Morgana, ever mindful of you trying to sleep, stifled her scream with her palm.

Her back collided with the wall as Joker held a knife up to her throat. It was natural that she panicked but she did so for an entirely different reason.

"You can't kill me, it'll tear Y/n apart!" Morgana looked Joker dead in the eye and pleaded her case. He rolled his eyes and nudged her jugular with his knife.

"S-She's hurting! She's hurting and we didn't know!! If you kill me it'll only make things worse on her! Please, I want to take care of my friend, I won't tell a-anyone! I-I-I promise!" Morgana started to sob but Joker could care less.

He furrowed his brows and gripped his knife tighter, "Whaddya mean.. 'Y/n is hurting?"

Morgana scanned Joker's face. His makeup was more terrifying in person than on tv.

The clown looked serious but she didn't know the guy well enough to know for sure so she asked aloud. "Y-You don't know?"

J rolled his eyes again and smacked his lips. "I wouldn't asK if I diD, now would I? Who. HurT. Her?" Morgana flinched every time he stressed a syllable.

Now, Morgana was a sensible woman. She was book and street smart and used them well in life.

Even with her back literally against the wall, she wouldn't show fear; it wasn't in her free spirited nature. She faced fear with a straight face and dealt with the consequences later, however; this man was worse than fear.

The Joker was unpredictable and unnaturally calm with everything he did. He held her at knifepoint with a lazy grin as if it didn't matter if she answered or not.

She would die regardless.

Her life didn't matter to him so she had to think smart to stay alive. She resorted to her business savvy skills.

Morgana had information that Joker didn't know about and that put a value on her life. It would buy her some time to escape at least.

She nodded to herself and began to work.

"Will you let me go? I-I'll tell you anything, just.. not while being held at knifepoint." Morgana glanced at the weapon resting precariously on her jugular. Any more pressure and the edge would puncture the skin.

Joker narrowed his eyes but guided Morgana over to the kitchen island by her arm after thinking things over. He wanted to hear what she had to say.

He pushed her towards a barstool and leaned down right in her face.

He hoped his fear tactics weren't rusty from misuse yet Morgana looked ready to pass out. His presence alone had her on edge.

"Start. Talking." Joker ordered.

Morgana nodded and closed her eyes. He wasn't giving her any time to react to any of this. She was face to face with the infamous Joker inside her friend's apartment. It was a lot to digest. Just what business did he have with you?

But suddenly, everything made sense.

The reason why you became so secretive out of the blue. Why you denied having relations with Bruce Wayne, how you survived the attack at The Prosperity, and why you wanted privacy at your apartment, now more so than ever. She thought back to when this all started; right after Joker escaped from Arkham Asylum.

You were keeping Joker a secret this entire time right under everyone's nose.

Morgana had to give you props; you did an amazing job but she still had to ask.

"Before I start, I have to know. Are you just using her or are you and Y/n like.. together together?" She made a lewd gesture with her hands. Joker wasn't amused. He clicked his blade back out with a sigh.

"I won'T ask again. Talk or the uhh knife? This one! It comes back." He shook it playfully and its sharp edge gleamed in the kitchen's overhead lights.

Joker wouldn't hesitate plunging the knife into her neck. The clean up would be a pain but nothing he couldn't handle. If she didn't want to willingly talk then things could shift to a more tortuous method of communication.

It was all up to Morgana to decide. Comply or be difficult. He let her mull it over.

Watching Joker's fiddle with his knife was enough to get her talking. This madman would not hesitate in killing her and she knew it. She'd tell him anything as long as that knife kept a safe distance from her. "I'll talk."

Morgana sighed in relief when Joker backed off.

"Okay, wow um, you might wanna sit down for this. It's.. a lot to take in. Ugh, where do I start?"

Joker watched Morgana stall and decided to help her along. He sighed and pulled up a seat in front of her.

"Let's start... righhhht after Florence left yesterday." Joker fixed his suit collar before crossing his ankles. Morgana was in disbelief by his extensive knowledge of the situation.

"How do you...?" Joker sent her a glare.

"You're right, I don't wanna know. Okay, so apparently Florence knows about you and Y/n. F__k, I do too! This is crazy. You and Y/n.. are dating. Anyways, Flo stormed out of the apartment with Neo hot on her heels. It was crazy with everyone talking over themselves and Y/n fainted but thankfully Bruce caught her. We were so worried about her but when she came to, she was still hung up on Florence. Then Y/n and Dick were yelling at each other until her mom broke them up."

Morgana ran a hand through her silk press. This was a lot harder to explain than she thought.

She quite honestly didn't know if The Joker wanted a short summary or a detailed explanation but she continued nonetheless. She chose to info dump to save her own hide.

"We all went into the kitchen– Y/n's parents, Barbs and I, while Y/n, Dick, and Bruce were still arguing in the dining room. Y/n walked past all angry at something Grayson said and slammed her bedroom door close but her mom left us in the kitchen to bring Y/n a plate of dessert. I guess they patched things up. They were up in her room for the—"

Joker had to interrupt. "Y/n let someone into her room?"

Morgana slowly nodded. He had been quiet as she rambled, she wasn't expecting him to interrupt to clarify such a useless detail.

"Yeah, it was her mom so guess it was okay? Well, now that I think about it, Y/n didn't appreciate them 'invading her safe space.' Her words not mine. It was around that time we all decided on staying over for a sleepover and Y/n made sure we were all situated before going to bed. I swear everything was fine when we went to sleep but we woke up to Y/n screaming her head off."

Morgana began to tear up. Joker felt indifferent to the sight since it wasn't your tears. Seeing Morgana's just annoyed him.

She took a deep breath and Joker knew she was getting to the important part.

"When we got to the balcony, Y/n was fighting with Bruce and crying her heart out. She was reliving everything that happened that night and... h-hey woah!! Where are you going?!"

Morgana panicked when Joker shifted to get up from his chair. She blocked his path and he eyed her in disgust.

"Move." Joker could not stand Wayne and his obvious lovesick attraction to you.

You had relations with Bruce that Joker didn't know about and it irked him to have competition for your love.

It was already bad enough that Wayne was at your apartment, that he spent the night, and then had the audacity to put his hands on you. But he messed up by making you cry. The man was begging for death at this point.

Joker would enjoy murdering Gotham City's most upstanding citizen. He already had a thousand ways to do it brewing inside his head. However, Morgana was in his way.

She hesitantly pushed him back and apologized when Joker gave her a harsh glare. Note to self: do not touch the psychotic clown, she thought.

She tried to calm down his murderous campaign by telling the truth.

"It wasn't Bruce! He was only trying to help!" Joker rolled his eyes (what help has Wayne ever been) but she put her foot down and continued.

"IF YOU STOP JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS AND LET ME FINISH, YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND!" She slapped her hands over her mouth and looked up at Joker.

She did not just yell at this man. Morgana did some questionable things in her life but that had to be the most reckless of them all. She glanced towards the bedroom and hoped that she wasn't too loud.

Joker was seriously considering snapping her neck for raising her voice at him.

His patience was thin today and this girl was testing it to the limits. Although he was curious as to why she stifled her voice.

He followed her gaze and eyed her quizzically. Morgana answered his unspoken question.

She dropped her hand, "Y/n is sleeping. It took forever to calm her down last night." 

Joker closed his eyes and sighed. He was so busy handling the Florence situation with Neo last night, he didn't stop and check on you. And that proved to be a big mistake.

Once again, when you needed Joker the most, he was nowhere to be found. His sweet Bunny was terrified last night and had to rely on Wayne of all people for comfort. Joker had failed you yet again. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

He assumed guilt and vowed to atone for his failure in blood.

"Uhhh what, errrr rather who made her cry? Who I'm killing?" Joker asked out of the blue.

He sat back down on the barstool and Morgana eyed him briefly as she thought over her answer. If she told the truth, then he would go out and start a murdering spree.

"No one I think? Like I said, Y/n was in total hysterics last night. Her parents knew exactly what to do to calm her down from her episode. She... she had a panic attack about the night she was—" Morgana stopped and looked away.

The most important part and she couldn't say it aloud. She fought back tears and faced Joker.

He needed to know but the words were caught in her throat.

Joker wasn't a fool. Something was hurting his Bunny that he didn't know about. Correction; He knew something from your past still haunted you for a while now.

There were signs that he picked up during his brief time with you.

You were a recluse despite being so young and you avoided all types of human interaction outside of your close circle of friends. He also noted you did not have any male friends, except for the Grayson boy.

You visibly became uncomfortable around the opposite sex. Him included at times.

Joker knew about your claustrophobia and anxiety in tight spaces. He noticed you would eye him warily when the two of you would take the elevator, or that you preferred open floor plans, and most of all– he remembered the conversation the two of you shared after he rescued you from Two Face's warehouse.

Joker couldn't ignore the fact that another man was on top of you earlier. "Did he.. uh you know.." Joker brushed your thigh in passing.

"No and could you just drop it? I-I don't want to be a victim again."

And Joker would be a fool not to remember the comment you made as he prepared to take you for the first time that same night.

"Um.. almost two years. B-Before I moved to Gotham. It's one of the reasons why I moved." You met Joker's knowing gaze and weakly smiled. "It's in the past. I'm okay. Really. You can touch me.. I ahh I like it when you do."

Two years. You didn't want to be a victim again. You moved to a different city to get away from the trauma someone inflicted on you.

You liked Joker's touch but it took him forever to acclimate you to it without flinching.

You still did every now and then but he paid it no mind since you would relax after a second or two. Joker noticed every little thing about his Light but he dismissed all the warnings signs.

The truth was right there. He was just too selfish to address them.

All the times he was too rough in bed or grabbed you unexpectedly, came crashing down on him. What if he pressured you into something you didn't want? What if he triggered old wounds and made things worse?

His Light, his ray of hope in this bleak existence of his, deserved to be happy and loved.

Without your smiling face by his side, Joker would be a ruthless madman again; only wishing for the world to burn with no true endgame in sight.

He spent too much time bathed in your light to return to his pointless crusade. What a lonely life he lived before you came and gave it purpose.

Joker didn't know what to do with the fact that his Light was miserable inside.

Morgana watched him slip down a mental rabbit hole. He looked lost in thought as a weight settled over his brow.

She wondered what you saw in the man but the longer she stared, she could see some of the appeal. He was hot if she squinted. Joker obviously cared a great deal about you and his eyes were a complex shade of green that Morgana had never seen before.

You had a thing for eyes.. but the fact you made someone like The Joker have feelings for another human being was an achievement in itself.

Morgana hated to interrupt his thoughts but she finally found the courage to continue. She cleared her throat to continue but Joker cut her off.

"Don'T say it. I know. I've.... known for a while now." He swept his arm across the kitchen counter and sent items crashing to the floor.

Morgana jumped at the unexpected action and watched Joker stand up and begin pacing the room, mumbling to himself.

He was about to start breaking more things when Morgana stole his attention.

"Now you see why I asked you earlier?" Joker shot her a glare. She swiftly changed her tone. "Are you just using Y/n... or are you going to be there for her? Y/n needs us, all of us, and if you're just using her, I'm sorry but I can't allow that!"

Joker laughed, "What are ya gonna do, hmm? Stop me? Now.. that? That is funny. But don't worry– I'm not using Y/n.. I lov—"

Joker stopped himself mid sentence and Morgana caught onto what he almost said. Her jaw dropped in disbelief.

You could hear the fridge humming in the background, it was so quiet in the kitchen.

"O-Oh. Well, um that wasn't on my monthly bingo card but alrighty now." Morgana fell back onto the barstool.

This was awkward. She stole a glance at the criminal frozen in place as he registered what he just confessed to.

He finally almost said it aloud. He'd been struggling for days to tell you in person but managed to say it to your friend, no sweat. She had to die now. No one could know he had feelings.

Joker turned his head like an owl and Morgana instantly picked up on his murderous intent.

She moved so there was an island counter in between Joker and her. She valued her life, thank you very much.

"Hey now! No need to get all murder stabby stabby on me! T-That's amazing! H-have you told Y/n yet?"

Joker curled his lip. "No. Where is she?" He glanced down the hall and was about to storm off when Morgana flailed her arms.

"Wait! Don't wake her up!!" Her shout worked in getting Joker's attention but now she had to do damage control. Joker did not like her ordering him around. Morgana could work on establishing an acquaintance later, your health was more important.

"You can't just drop an L bomb after everything that's happened, are you crazy?! Now is not the time and news flash! She doesn't need— Uh excuse you?! Hey, are you listening to me?"

Morgana dashed down the hallway to catch up to Joker. She slipped past him and blocked the door frame with her body. "Listen to what I'm saying!"

Joker eyed her like a pest. Did she seriously think she could stop him?

"Y/n can't stand men right now. She drew blood trying to get away from Bruce and she couldn't tolerate her own father's presence. You don't know what her ex did to her. You don't want to see her like this." 

Joker stared at Morgana as her warning sank in.

If he had any clue what your sorry excuse for an ex did, then you needed someone to comfort you more than ever. Isolation was the last thing you needed right now.

As someone who frequently battled voices inside of his head, silence was the enemy and made matters worse. Joker knew that for a fact that you don't handle separation well, so why did Morgana think leaving you to your thoughts was a good idea?

It was a recipe for disaster.

He understood why you're terrified of men but you never feared him before. Why start now?

Joker smacked his lips and shoved Morgana aside. She yelped as he opened the bedroom door and glanced around.

Same original hardwood floors, same vegan cowhide rug.

The leather couch with two accent chairs, one slate grey, the other sage green, were still over in the corner by the electric fireplace and the view of Grant Park from outside was half obscured by the curtains. A single beam of sunlight was the only source of light within the room.

Everything was the same yet vastly off due to the fact that your aura wasn't thriving in the room.

It felt cold and bereft of life.

Joker was eyeing the open closet door when he saw something shift on the bed.

There was a sizable lump in the middle but he recognized the shape from anywhere. You were buried underneath the covers and doing your best impression of a blanket burrito. He could tell that you were awake.

You were timid but curious of the presence that entered the room. Subtle movements revealed you were tracking his every footfall.

Joker exhaled before walking over to stand beside the bed. He rather rip the band-aid off than freak you out by stalling.

Morgana picked herself up from off the floor and entered the room, only for Joker's eyes to force her back out.

She understood the message within the greenish hue.

"I was neva here." She said as she walked backwards out the door. It clicked shut behind her.

With her gone, Joker could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

He wasn't out of the woods just yet since Morgana would surely stay inside the apartment, (little did he know, she was cupping her ear to the door, trying to eavesdrop) but he could be more forward with his actions. It was a relief that your rooms were soundproof; Joker had a lot on his mind.

"I know you're awake."

The pile of covers flinched and shrunk in on itself. Joker shrugged off his coat and tossed it onto the leather couch. It landed heavily with a distinct metal clank.

"You probably need, uhh, space but I can't leave ya alone. NoT now. I'm here. If you need me." Joker sank a knee onto the bed and crept forward until he bumped against you. He heard the sharp inhale you made upon contact and wisely backed off.

You were a gentle soul both inside and out. You didn't deserve to be frightened of something as simple as human touch. He wanted nothing more than to spoil you with affection, however Joker would be patient and regain your trust again. You were worth the wait.

Just like the bunny he named you after, he would wait until you came crawling out of your hiding hole, curious to explore.

And just like he expected, you slowly poked your head from out of the covers before looking around the room. He stayed out of your eyesight so he wouldn't startle you, but somehow, you knew he was there.

It wasn't that dark in the room but he was hesitant to turn on a light until you asked him to.

"W-Who's t-there?" You turned your head and locked eyes with pools of jade.

Joker didn't move a muscle as you lookedbut didn't fully see him. He noticed you shaking. You probably saw someone else with your unstable mind.

"Y/n, it's me." J waved at you but you shrunk back further into the covers.

He had to think fast and jog your memory. He was the one that gave you a slew of nicknames but you didn't have one for him. He was just J.

Not very helpful in this current predicament.

Joker still had his makeup on and it would remain until Morgana left the penthouse for good. It eliminated him from showing you the constellation of freckles you loved so much on his face. That for sure would restart your memory.

What was something the two of you shared that could help familiarize Joker to you?

He had yet to give you anything of sentimental value so he striked that off the list. He was shifting his weight on the bed when you tensed.

Your nose flexed just like a bunny, he thought it was cute.

"I should ahhh–"

You cut Joker off. "Lighter fluid and something.. metallic. It.. it smells like that when I'm safe with.. J? Where, w-where were you? Why didn't you stop him..?"

There were many things in this life that Joker overcame. He been in the world's most toughest jails, endured inhumane torture methods, and fought against the greatest superheroes and lived to tell the tale. Yet despite all of those feats, he was brought to his knees at the sight of your tears time and time again.

They were daggers straight to his heart. He couldn't bear seeing his Light in so much pain but despite the agony, he couldn't look away.

You clung tighter to the comforter around you.

"I-I don't know what's r-real anymore! I can hear him telling me it's okay but it's your hands hurting me. You wouldn't do that! Your hands are warm w-with callouses on the palms and index fingers. I begged you to stop! Why won't you s-stop?! Please.. just.. Why weren't you there when I needed you?"

Joker hated to admit it, but Morgana was right. He didn't need to see you like this.

He was living in a nightmare seeing his precious bunny struggling to see the truth. Your mind was all mixed up, fighting both the past and the present.

He had to do something although he didn't know what.

"I.. I wasn't here last night, but uhh, I'm here now. C'mon, Y/n, tell me what ya need me to do."

Joker would give you the world on a silver platter if you asked for it, but he felt utterly useless watching you spiral into madness. His heart stopped beating after he heard your watery plea.

"It hurts, please stop." You weren't thinking clearly and he began to worry when you started to breathe erratically.

He couldn't sit around and watch you suffer. Joker threw all caution to the wind and pulled you in for a hug, covers and all.

At first you resisted– Joker thought he messed up big time– but you sagged further in his arms and buried your face into his chest.

You grabbed fists full of J's suit and inhaled.

The unique cocktail that only Joker possessed, helped you recognize who held you tightly. You sobbed knowing that your Dark Prince was finally here. You thought Joker abandoned you.

"I don't want him to come back, please don't go!" You looked up at Joker.

Your big e/c were frantically staring into his. He sighed and tucked a wayward curl back into place under your bonnet– for once, you didn't flinch, rather you leaned into his touch. Your cheek felt so cold against his hand.

Something in J gave way to the moment.

"If you'll, uh let meee, I'll never let you go. Is that okay?" Joker asked. You looked away and he quickly added. "I won't do anything else, doll. I just wanna be.. here for ya. Let me ahh hold you so... he.. doesn't hurt ya. I won't leave you."

You bit your lip. Joker's arms were soothing for now but you were wary of them.

He could turn violent at a moment's notice. "You promise you won't hurt me?"

You gasped when Joker rested his forehead against yours. It didn't matter that his white paint transferred onto your skin. You weren't expecting such a sweet gesture from him.

It pained him to hear your plea. He feared you were broken beyond repair. But Joker could fix you; he could fix anything if given enough time. 

"I'd let Bats drag me back to Arkham Asylum before I'd lay a finger on ya. Never again." He kept eye contact with you as he grabbed your hand. You surprised yourself by letting him do it.

Baby steps, Joker thought to himself. His eyes squeezed shut as he kissed the fading scar that he made on your palm.

You saw the anguish take hold of his features. Since when was Joker so open to show his emotions?

Joker dropped his usual dialect and talked to you straight. You knew he was serious when his voice also dropped an octave.

Gone was the clown that Gotham City feared, this was just J, a man secretly in love, speaking to you in the hushed air of your room.

"You're my Light. My everything." He used your fingers in his grasp to wipe your tears away.

More rushed to the surface hearing his sincere words but he diligently kept wiping. "These tears I swear, they'll be the death of me. I know it's scary and you have every right to fear me, but if you don't remember anything else– know this Y/n." He waited until you looked at him.

A kaleidoscope of green greeted you and you swore you would never be the same.

"I will never hurt you again. I promise."

Joker whispered your name when you lost concentration and he patiently waited until you looked into his eyes again.

They pleaded with you to understand the unspoken truths his heart was too weak to voice.

Screw what Morgana said about bad timing. He wanted you to know. He had to tell you the truth. Joker cupped your face, "Y/n, I lo—"

You wanted to hear what Joker had to say but your eyes grew heavy all of a sudden. The last thing you ate was that plate of sugar Mom brought you last night. Your body burned through it and demanded more fuel to keep you functioning.

You were dehydrated and your mind and body were running on fumes. You couldn't keep up, so you crashed.

Joker panicked when your body swayed slightly before you fell back. You were unconscious by the time he could react.

He cursed at his failed attempt but recovered quickly to dote on you. Declarations of love would have to wait. His Light was running the risk of being sick.

Joker laid you down and tucked you into bed properly before heading over to the door. Much to his surprise Morgana was there, doing a terrible job of hiding that she was eavesdropping.

She pretended to straighten the abstract artwork hanging outside the guest bedroom as Joker walked by.

She glanced inside and saw you sleeping but knew something happened behind closed doors.

Instead of being a blanket burrito, you were tucked in bed like Sleeping Beauty with the pillows and covers around you almost picturesque.

Joker had a soft side after all. She just witnessed it firsthand. 

Maybe she should tell him everything your parents disclosed last night after all. By the time she caught up to Joker in the living room, he was mid-call.

He saw her approaching and held up a finger.

Morgana dealt with many rude people in her line of work but Joker was probably the rudest of them all.

"... Mmhm, make sure she's discreet this time. One of Y/n's friends is still here. Yeah.. about that.." Joker locked eyes with Morgana. "She's alive. For now."

She froze on the spot. What did for now mean? Was there some kind of 'how to stay alive' program she needed to know about? He had some nerve and this was the man who claimed to love you.

How comforting.

Morgana bounced on the balls of her feet hoping to be acknowledged soon.

Joker discussed some more minor details with one of his henchmen before hanging up. His eyes then flickered over to the vibrant bouquet of flowers Morgana was working on.

She thought he would destroy her hard work but he leaned over to sniff the delicate flora instead.

"For Y/n?" He scanned the work for any imperfections; there weren't any.

He wanted nothing but the best for his bunny. He stared at Morgana, arching an eyebrow when she didn't respond.

"Y–Yeah." Morgana said, "I'm not finished yet! It's gonna be double in size with more Queen Anne lace and roses to r-round it all out. Y/n loves roses and the Eucalyptus will be good for her exhaustion. Its scent is known for its aromatherapy powers plus its good for rejuvenating the spirit and overall elevating one's mood."

Joker nodded and backed off. It was nice to know one of your friends was looking out for you in your time of need.

He was wary of keeping Morgana alive but she was proving to be 'good people' as you had a habit of saying. A far cry from Florence.

Joker grumbled to himself just thinking about the Haitian.

Morgana jumped hearing a rare chuckle from the dark clown. "She'll like them. Now! Let's dis-cuss you. Sit."

Joker clapped his hands and pointed to the blue couch in your living room. He didn't wait for Morgana to act, he was already walking towards the kitchen to grab a water.

He noticed the leftovers in your fridge as he rummaged around for a drink. You probably needed to eat but he'd wait for the doc to look you over and decide what's best.

He snagged two water bottles and headed back to the living room but arrived to witness Morgana swirling a tumbler glass in her hands.

She took a big swig from it as he sat down opposite of her in an accent chair.

She wiped her mouth and tried to explain, "Don't judge me. I need hard liquor after all of this. Want one? I'm great at mixing drinks." She shimmied her shoulders but Joker wasn't amused.

He heard stories from Y/n about Morgana. Her and Florence were the heavy drinkers of the group.

"Y/n doesn't keep alcohol in her apartment." He noted.

Morgana laughed once and polished off her drink. She set it on the coffee table that separated them both. She noticed the clown was right at home in your place but had yet to find her and Flo's numerous stashes of liquor.

"What Y/n doesn't know won't kill her." She failed to dodge the water bottle Joker threw at her face. "OW! What was that for?!"

He sipped on the water while rolling his eyes. Morgana rubbed at her cheek and waited for the clown to finish. He drank the entire bottle in one pull before recapping the top and setting it down.

"Y/n likes to recycle. Ya know-  saving the.. turtles, uhh, one plastic at a time. That's my Light. Always caring for others; failing to take care of herself."

"Isn't she caring for you until you no longer need her?" She interrupted.

Joker licked his scars. Have patience. No need to take your frustrations out on others, he heard your voice recite in his head. He took a deep breath before smiling at Morgana.

"I'm noT leaving Y/n so that means I have to, uhh, geT along with the people in her life. So! This can be a lit-le experiment of sorts between usss. Let's see how long you can keep your mouth shut and I'll.... see how long I can tolerate you without murdering ya! Deal?"

Morgana was at a loss for words. What kind of agreement was that?

"I need another drink." She sighed. Joker's laugh was far more creepier in person than on tv.

The sound of the doorbell startled Morgana out of her task. She set the spray bottle down and jogged over to the front door to answer it.

She was pleasantly surprised when a beautiful woman was standing outside, chewing on bubble gum with an attitude.

"Can I help you?" Morgana asked.

The female looked up from her phone and glanced down the short hallway, at the elevator, and then back at Morgana.

"Tis boy better not have given me da wrong address. Hold on." She dialed a number and brought it to her ear.

Morgana was left awkwardly holding the door when the mysterious woman began arguing with whoever she called.

The commotion gained Joker's attention all the way in the living room. He recognized the woman at the door instantly. She did the same the moment she spotted Joker.

"Well well! If it isn't my sorry excuse for a patient! I see you're not restin' your leg like I told ya." She sighed.

Joker smiled and leaned on the door frame. "Be glad I didn't kill you after my checK up, doc." He fired back.

Morgana glanced back and forth between the two. "Uhh do you two know each other or something?"

The woman looked Morgana dead in the eye. "I don't know who this man is. I mean, he could be walking down the street, I wouldn't. Sorry to this man."

Joker laughed and she joined along but swatted his hands away when he tried to grab her neck.

The pair walked inside, leaving Morgana utterly confused in the foyer. She watched them talk amongst themselves like two old friends and caught up to them mid sentence.

"..and her hands are sooooo cold, doc. She's been crying her little heart out and passed out in my arms. Whatever can ya do?" Joker pouted as he held the bedroom door open for his esteemed guest.

She walked in and looked around. Leave it for Joker to find some chick with money. She sat her bag down on a nearby table and dug through it for some gloves. 

"Sounds like dehydration. When's the last time she ate?"

Morgana walked in and answered for Joker, "Last night around eight ish? It was a plate of dessert but she ate dinner too. Hi, I'm her friend and you are?"

"Name's Sarai. I'm this idiot's on-call doc." Sarai dabbed Morgana up before facing her employer. "Now, where's my patient?"

Joker was too busy stewing in jealousy. He liked secret handshakes too. What gives?

"You don't do that with me doc. I thought we were errr close."

She eyed him like a fed up mother would her child. "You ain't black, Joker. Now move." She pushed him aside and approached the bed, but stopped as if she saw a ghost.

She treated hundreds of patients a day but she never forgot a face. "I remember her."

Sarai picked up your hands and sure enough, the jagged cut that she treated almost a month ago was still there. Your hands were cold to the touch just like Joker said and also a bit clammy.

"Did you do this?" She pointed at your palms. Joker sat down by your side and had the decency to look ashamed. He sighed before nodding.

Both Sarai and Morgana stared at him in disbelief. He looked so remorseful.

Joker was such a man child at times. One would have thought Sarai scolded him with the way he was acting. She flicked her braids over her shoulder with a huff.

Today they were blonde butterfly locs reaching down to her waist. When she shook her head, they moved with her. Joker eyed them curiously. How did she work in the hospital with such long braids?

"I knew I shoulda filed a police report. Her shoddy story bout mistakin' the pepper grinder for a knife was too sketchy."

She donned her pink gloves before she gently opened your mouth. "Ah, as I thought. She's dehydrated. You want an IV in her?"

Morgana stood on the other side of the bed to watch this interaction up close. There was actually a person not afraid of The Joker!

This supposed doctor was talking to him any kind of way and he paid her no mind. She would demand something out of her bag and he would grab it, no questions asked.

But he pushed Morgana to the ground and threw water bottles at her when she raised her voice at him. This man was truly unpredictable.

Morgana let her intrusive thoughts get the better of her. "So you're a real doctor and you willingly work for him?"

She slapped a hand over her mouth after she spoke but it was too late. Sarai was inserting an IV into your arm but chuckled at the insult. She admired her handiwork before replying.

"Dr. Sarai Obukofe, chief trauma surgeon at Gotham General. Joker's house calls pays more tho. Don't give me dat look. I'm from Blüdhaven, his crimes ain't nothin' n' Jokester here won't hurt friends of da family. Won't ya now?" She nudged his leg with her own.

Joker hummed. It was neither affirmative or negative.

Morgana slowly nodded. She picked up the thick Blüdhaven accent at the door but she was still confused.

"Friends of the family?" She questioned.

Sarai rigged the IV bag to your bedpost. It would have to do since she didn't pack an IV pole. Not like she could.

This was an off the books house call after all. She received a text from her cousin saying to come to an address with her crash kit– strictly on the low.

Sarai automatically knew it was for Joker. She couldn't refuse the job even if today was her rare day off.

She blew a bubble and popped it sharply before eyeing Joker. "How deep is she?" She jerked her head at Morgana.

Joker didn't look away from you to answer. "Accident. I'm con-sider-ing offing her later."

Sarai grimaced and cast sympathetic eyes on Morgana. "Ouch, so an outsider then."

She checked you over when you began to shiver. "Frost mentioned on the phone that she had a 'traumatic experience.' Care ta explain that?"

Morgana had enough. She cut through the air with her hand in a fit of rage.

"No, no! Go back! I thought we had a deal, Joker! We shared a drink together, you said you'd keep me alive if I helped you with this 'get along with others' experiment of yours. Now you're thinking about killing me again? Make up your mind!"

Joker was about to when you whimpered and stole everyone's attention. They were being too loud.

"You're disturbing my patient. Either lower ya voice or move dis conversation elsewhere." Sarai hissed at Morgana.

The florist was trying to keep her cool. These two strangers just barged into your place as if they owned it and had the audacity to boss her around!

She couldn't even defend herself! Morgana wished she'd let Dick stay behind instead. He probably would've handled this situation a bit better than her. Sure he would've fought with Joker and possibly died in the process, but he wouldn't have sided with the madman to stay alive. GCPD would have the place surrounded with Batman en route by now.

She had half a mind to sneak away and call the authorities but one look at you had her second guessing that decision.

The last thing you needed was more stress and strangers surrounding you and your space. You required peace and quiet to heal.

But this clown was on thin f__king ice with her.

It was a lot to handle on a Friday afternoon and Morgana wasn't about to let Joker or this doctor mess with her energy. She took a relaxing breath and found her center.

"I will not let your indecisiveness get the better of me. However if we're to get along– whatever the hell that means, you gotta stop threatening to kill me." Morgana said.

Joker looked at Sarai as if she had the answers.

The doctor was putting away her tools and had no parts in this. She'd stick around until Joker called her back to remove the IV. Other than that, her job was done.

That is until you groaned and blinked your eyes open.

Everyone held their breath in anticipation. You squinted your eyes a few times until you felt a tightness on your forearm.

Much to your horror there was a hospital IV inserted in your vein. You began to claw at it when Joker reached out and stopped you.

"Hey. Hey.. leave thaT alone, baby doll." Your eyes darted up to him.

It took you longer than he liked to recognize him again, but you were slowly coming back to yourself.

"J.. it's cold." Your fingernail picked at the tape Sarai attached to keep the needle in place.

You hated doctors and you hated medical treatment. It reminded you too much of that night and the following weeks thereafter. You didn't want to think about it again, and Joker was right there to distract you from it all.

His hand rested atop yours and squeezed. He felt like a furnace. He sighed, "I knooow but, it's gonna make ya feel better. You uhh want me to hold you? Promise I'm warm, hmm?"

His thumb rubbed circles on your darker skin as you thought over his offer. You relented with a weak nod.

Joker stood up to climb into the bed with you but looked up at something within the room.

"Close the door on your way out. Now."

You wondered who he was talking to and followed his gaze. You and Morgana locked eyes. She was calm, way too calm to be in Joker's presence and the crazy part– he allowed her to be.

Your eyes went back and forth between her and Joker as the wheels in your brain spun out of control. Surely this was a dream.

There was no way Joker would let another one of your friends in on his secret. Then you spotted a third individual standing off to the side. She looked familiar but you couldn't place her at present.

Your mind was too busy grasping at the reality of Joker and Morgana being in the same room without the latter being murdered.

That dream you had of a little boy by the river whispered in your mind.

'She knows and now she has to die.'

He wasn't talking about Florence. He was referring to Morgana.

You shot forward and grabbed a hold Joker's suit vest in a surprisingly strong grip. He looked down at you in intrigue as you started spouting nonsense.

"Not her! Please don't kill her Joker! She's my friend. Y-You promised me!" You were leaving wrinkles in Joker's shirt as Morgana rounded the bed to enter your line of vision.

"Y/n! Calm down, I'm right here! I'm okay!" She stole your attention but it came with a price. You let go of Joker to whirl on Morgana. It was her turn to hiss at your vice-like grip.

"You can't be here! You have to leave Gana. You didn't see nothing! Deny everything! Please.. I-I can't lose you too. I can't lose another friend.. Please."

You sobbed into her arms and she glared at Joker who was still standing off to the side, speechless.

He was coping with the fact you begged him not to kill someone and that he felt obligated to obey.

He wasn't going to let Morgana leave the apartment building alive but the moment you begged him, Joker's hands were tied. He promised he'd never hurt you. That meant physically, mentally, and emotionally. You stopped The Joker with three simple words.

You promised me.

He stood frozen, awaiting your next orders for he truly did not know what to do after discovering the power you held over him.

Morgana managed to get you to lie back on the bed as your burst of adrenaline died out. You felt sluggish all of a sudden.

Sarai stood watch as the pain meds she added to your IV line started to kick in. You fought against the fog and looked over at Joker.

His eyes instantly found yours and thus the staring match began. Your drugged induced gaze had a clear warning in them and you made sure to declare it vocally.

"You hurt my friends.. and I'll never.. forgive you." You fell back asleep and the room breathed a sigh of relief.

Joker feared nothing in this life but your warning hit him like a ton of bricks. He hoped you would forget all of this when you woke up.

If not, then he was in deep trouble.

[vampsquerade]

Ghost helping a male reader through a panic attack please🙏🙏🙏🙏

i will certainly try my best anon, thank you for requesting!! sorry it took me so long to get to this, i’ve had a lot of unnecessary and downright bullshit delays that caused me to hold back on writing as much as i do. also i hope you don’t mind but i did kind of tweak it a little and decided to use my own personal symptoms of PTSD (even tho the one i’ve been diagnosed with is a bit different)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ghost x Male!Reader: A Ghost’s Aid

Trigger Warnings: angst with a happy ending, PTSD, panic attacks, hyperventilation, uneasy feelings, traumatic memories

Life in and of itself is forever cruel. Countless years in which this cruelty has been seen and those most affected by it suffer its effects forever. Experiencing them yourself as your task force worked alongside the 141 and Los Vaqueros and previously with Shadow Company against Al-Qatala, you had developed a difficult reaction for certain situations that caused you to react too quickly. You would find yourself eventually with a diagnosis of PTSD after Graves’ betrayal as well as being separated from Johnny and Simon. Hours of the 24 hour cycle constantly passed within the 365 days of the year and you spent most of them awake out of fear of reliving that night in your dreams. Rainy days especially made it worse, often forcing you to stay inside until the storm was over and done with as you dealt with an episode on your own.

However, this time you would find yourself to be dealing with one in the presence of somebody else: Simon “Ghost” Riley. Though he wasn’t exactly the emotional type, you knew he still cared about everyone around him. You had just been hiding in a corner, hands clutching your head as you laid there panicking. “Y/N? What’s going on?” Simon asks, coming out of the room you were letting him stay in and into the living room where you were hiding. “F-Fuck…Simon please help me…” you whimper softly, hyperventilating terribly as you’re finally getting over that clearing. Grasping the situation a bit properly now, Simon then comes next to you and carefully sits you up and checks you all over for any wounds. He sees the bullet wounds you had gotten all that time ago, and gently grazes them with his fingers.

“It’s a hell of a thing, isn’t it?” Simon mumbles softly. He had begun to carefully and gently rub your back in a way to help you calm down. You simply nod, unable to form words as you continue to hyperventilate while attempting relaxation. It would take you an entire hour to finally calm your entire body down and regulate your breathing. “I’m sorry you had to see that…I wasn’t expecting rain…” you whisper. “It’s no worry, don’t apologize for anything related to your disorder. Anything you need right now?” Simon asks. “Wanna share a cuppa?” you ask. He gives you a nod accompanied with a slow blink before standing up. Simon obviously gives you a helping hand as well, helping you walk a little until you feel like you can on your own.

“Thank you…” you mumble, going and washing your hands before grabbing teacups and your teapot to transfer the boiling water into once it’s done. “So what’s in the cabinet then?” Simon asks as he takes a seat at your table. “I only have Earl Grey.” you say, opening the cabinet and grabbing the small box of authentic Earl Grey tea leaves. “I reckon I’m quite alright with that.” Simon says. Smiling a little, you nod and lean against your counter as you wait for the water to boil. “How often does any of that happen? The thrashing and hallucinations.” Simon asks out of genuine concern. “It happens when it’s raining the most and in my sleep, but that’s only sometimes…” you say, crossing your arms against your chest and sighing. “I see. You’ve got a prescription?” Simon asked again.

You pipe up a little, “Reminds me, I’ve gotta take a pill.” you say. “Have you eaten though? I know some medications require you to eat before you take them.” Simon says. “Yeah. I had already eaten beforehand though so I’ll be fine.” you say, walking back over to your cabinet and taking out your pills. You take one and sip some water from a water bottle you had around before going back to where you had been previously standing. The atmosphere of the kitchen grew a little tense, causing you to become unnerved and intimidated by Simon’s presence and intense gaze. “You’ve been suffering alone, haven’t you?” Simon suddenly asks, cutting the thick atmosphere.

Unable to look him in the eye, you just stand there and keep your gaze away from his own. “Look, I’m not the best with words and never have been—you can ask us for help.” Simon says. Though his voice doesn’t sound too reassuring, you know it is. Hell, the man guided both you and Johnny towards him once Graves betrayed you. It’s okay to trust Simon. “What if my panic attack gets really bad? That stuff was just mild—it’s so much worse.” you say. “Then let me help. It’s not like I haven’t saved your ass countless times; what’s so different about this?” Simon asks. “I don’t want to burden you.” you say, finally meeting Simon’s eyes. “Don’t give me that. I know you’d do the same for me.” he says. You stay silent for a moment, contemplating what he just said.

“You’re right…it’s just…I feel like I don’t deserve it. I knew the shit I was getting into and for fuck’s sake I thought I was going to die that night.” you say. “I helped save your ass then as well. Let me do it when we aren’t in the field. No protests, that’s an order.” Simon says sternly. “But-“ you pipe up only to be interrupted by the hardened man, “But nothing, I’m going to help you. Am I understood?” he says. You remain quiet, sighing softly as the tea kettle begins to whistle as it has reached completion of boiling the water. “I asked you a question and I expect an answer, Corporal L/N.” Simon says. “You’re understood…” you say as you take the kettle off the heat. “Atta boy.” Simon says.

The man then stands up and carefully takes the kettle from you, pouring the water into your teapot with the leaves to allow for it to steep. “What makes you want to help me?” you ask genuinely. “Don’t quite like seeing a teammate continue to potentially hurt themselves like this. I know it’s not your fault and you can’t help it, but you can always ask. No harm.” Simon says. “I see. Well cheers, Simon—I can’t really express how grateful I am that you want to help.” you say, lightly punching his shoulder. “It’s really nothing to thank me for. I’m just being a decent person—for once.” Simon says, rolling his eyes a bit and scoffing. You can’t help but smile, giving him a nod. It felt nice to have someone to rely on, even a scary dog like Simon.

[unded1droid]

me ranting about khan

ok so khan has always been a really hated charter in murder drones and I can see why (I hated him with every inch of my body at one point) but I think that he has grown as a charter (and as a father) so im going to rant about how khan didn't/doesn't deserve the amount of hate he had/has

he left his daughter for dead why would you defend him!?!?!

he was obviously having some sort of flashback to watching nori die/having some sort of ptsd attack

from the way he looks at the gun then to N who is about to kill uzi and the way his hand is shaking he's obviously having some sort of attack weather it be a panic anxiety or ptsd attack its an attack of some kind and even though he most likely want to help his daughter his only child he can't do it, also it doesn't help that uzi looks alot like her mom so this makes me think he's reliving seeing the death of his wife and what would some one do if there reliving a traumatic memory they would try there best to block it out and that's what khan did except he took it to literally and left his daughter for dead witch is still bad but still he had a reason.

And (from what I see) he immediately feels bad for what he did after uzi comes back alive and kills J and captures V and befriends N but it's was already to late and uzi had already made her decision.

this part is just me ranting about other things people have brought up to way they hate kahn

this screen shot is from the parent teacher conference scene, so in this scene when the teacher says he thinks somthing is wrong with uzis programming khan is quick to defend his daughter saying that nothing is wrong with her programming and defending his daughter (witch honestly already shows some sort of character development)

(I didn't take a screen shot for this one)

in the scene where khan invites lizzy and doll to hang out with uzi some people may argue "why did he bring her bullies over to hang out with uzi what a horrible father" I personally think khan didn't know about the bullying cause in my personal experience with bullies if it doesn't happen infront of the teacher it didn't happen at all and in all the scenes where lizzy and doll are being mean to uzi the teacher isn't there and uzi doesn't seem like the type to tell some one if she's being bullied or not

AND IN THE SAME EP we see khan stay to make sure uzi is ok unlike in ep 1 where khan closes the door leaving uzi for dead but in this scene we see him on the other side of the door away from uzi (like in ep 1) but instead of closing it and running he stays for uzi watching still very scared but trying his hardest to stay there for his daughter

and then in ep 4 we see khan helping uzi figure out what the hell is going on with her unlike in ep 3 were he tore down he conspiracy bord (I feel like as soon as uzi told him how important this was to her he began to help)

this is the part of the rant where I show a tiktok that inspired me to make this whole thing

we see how much he improved as a dad in just 5 episodes honestly I'm glad he got the redemption he deserved (and makes me kinda hope my theory about her killing her dad doesn't become canon)

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Shreya A Cadwell

Published: May 7, 2022

One of the best movie characters I have seen portray PTSD symptoms is Charlie in “The perks of being a wallflower.” Throughout the movie, his silent suffering and disturbing symptoms affect his life quality and relationships. Charlie experiences several flashbacks and relives the trauma repeatedly with a racing heart. Scenes play on in the back of his head with memories that are so painful to remember that he has forgotten large parts of the whole story. He has suffered a series of unfortunate events during his life, something I can relate to, which made me develop PTSD myself. Today, there are many productions that display mental illness, “13 reasons why” is another example, and one of the reasons why mental health is more widely talked about than ever before.

In real life, PTSD is a diagnosis that often comes with great empathy from people around you. Known as a common stress disorder among veterans, it is almost like wearing a badge of honor in today’s society. Let me explain why this can become troublesome for us that live with a mental disorder.

The feeling of constant shame

It is lunchtime, and I am on the subway on my way down to the city core of Stockholm. I have carefully chosen a spot on the train close to the doors where I can see people from every train angle. I listen carefully to every sound around me, and every person that might look or act a little odd has my full attention. I can feel sweat running down my back.

“Does anyone notice how nervous I am?”

At the third station, a woman enters the train. She walks through the sliding doors and sits down with her friend in front of me. She is one of the people on the train that I find odd.

She wears a pair of black sunglasses and a black cap, and she holds her friend’s hand as she rocks her body slowly back and forth, seemingly nervous. It looks like she has a panic attack.

What struck me in this situation is how she acts out her stress in front of everyone and has her friend’s full attention the whole trip. She strokes her hand. They both have that look in their eyes,

“Can you not see that she is suffering?”

I know many people with severe disorders, from having one myself. We have one thing in common: the feeling of shame. Shame for what we have been through, guilt for letting it happen, and shame for letting it happen again.

When you feel this intense amount of shame for what you are, you are not so eager to show it in front of other people, not even in a group meeting with people who deal with the same feelings.

Most of us would not dream of putting ourselves in such a vulnerable situation where so many people publicly got to see our worst moments of fear.

No, we suck it up, avoid and hide.

We become chameleons in a society that praise people who are open with their imagined illnesses.

A mental illness is not a badge of honor. Many self-diagnosed people out there get to represent an illness they do not even suffer. There are many tests and articles online and a generation of social media awareness on mental health problems. That leads many to self-diagnose a severe illness, and we do not just diagnose ourselves but even the people around us. How many life coaches out there put up clip after clip on tackling narcissists?

Can we self-diagnose cancer?

No, and how do we feel about people who fake serious illnesses? We despise them. But you have to pretend many symptoms psychically for cancer and other serious diseases. It is easier to put on a spontaneous show of having an anxiety attack.

Yes, the woman on the train may have a mental illness. I can’t be the judge of that. Her behavior felt staged and didn’t align with how many of my friends act or how I operate. It was a bit too much of everything. We all show emotion and handle difficult situations differently. I respect that some people might act out that way, but I would not consider it the norm. Most of us want to fit in so well with the rest, so we act our way through situations or avoid them.

“Emotional numbing is a way for many to cope with life.”

It took me years to get diagnosed with PTSD and to get help. I felt that the health care system did not take me seriously when I entered the room at the therapist’s office. I managed to talk about what I had gone through in a civil matter. After meeting several therapists, I met the right one, who chose to look at my background and how my body reacts to situations instead of what I decided to show openly.

One of my first therapists wrote in my journal that I was in a very sane state of mind when talking and just needed a little help and support. Therefore I was not in such need of direct assistance. Today, I know it is called emotional numbing, a character trait for someone with PTSD. It is how I have learned to cope with what I have on my brain when adrenaline rushes through my system. That is how many of us who have suffered severe trauma copes with life.

The consequences of self-diagnosis

Although we have a greater awareness of mental health issues, our openness has helped destigmatize them. It has also affected people by attributing it to symptoms of imagined mental illness. A professional medical diagnosis is hard to obtain for a reason.

I believe that one of the consequences of a society where people now self-diagnose severe mental health disorders is that those who suffer for real do not get the help they need. It is more convenient for a therapist to take on patients who need a few meetings, a couple of pills, and then it is over and done. They are paid the same for that type of patient and a patient like me, with a history of multiple fallbacks and repeated trauma patterns.

Most of us who suffer from high functioning mental illness hide it pretty well, and the only ones who get to experience and suffer with us to some degree are often family members and partners. But all around us, our coworkers and friends use the complex word anxiety when they mean that they are stressed. Stress and low moods such as sadness or grief are normal and healthy coping mechanisms that are part of life. Anxiety is a deep-rooted rumination that something will go wrong, all the time and in every situation.

It enhances the feeling of isolation and loneliness you already feel because you are not coping on the same level as your friend who has self-diagnosed. All of a sudden, “everyone” suffers from anxiety. Everywhere you turn and it downplays the suffering you feel yourself.

Another problem with self-diagnosis is that it can prevent you from seeing the real issue, for example, an underlying medical issue.

“You do not have a monopoly on pain.”

Some happenings are part of life, which are such joint suffering for most people. Then there is the sudden or long-lasting trauma of an event that is so specific to you that it’s hard to get other people to understand the suffering and fear you’ve experienced.

To hear that you can be diagnosed with PTSD for going through a divorce or think you can because you experience some complicated emotions. It downplays the suffering of more complex situations where your life has been in great danger. It takes away the real struggle from those who are suffering.

The lines get more blurry for diagnostic requirements for mental illnesses that affect your daily life and it has severe consequences for us. Eventually, that can take us down a very dark path instead of staying put on the road to recovery.

Shreya A Cadwell is a writer with a particular interest in psychology, politics, and sociology. She is diagnosed with PTSD and, therefore, has a burning passion for how mental health reflects our society and how we live.

==

Self-diagnosis is much like blaming the devil for your failings, or blaming your astrology sign for your bad behavior.

Self-diagnosis is also the exact same thing as "self ID."

[kylowritten]

If the Slipper Fits

Pairings: Kylo Ren x ForceSensitive!Reader

Summary: Nobody wants to be the woman whose foot fits that slipper.

Warnings: none that I can think of, but please let me know if you notice one

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Kylo is back next chapter👀

Part Seven

Morning comes quicker than you would’ve liked.

With the lack of windows and sunlight, you could’ve slept forever, and you probably would’ve if not for the stream of admirers coming to congratulate you on escaping the castle and surviving the stonebadger attack. Word travels fast in the caves, apparently.

You’re not entirely sure that it didn’t have to do with Rey, though, who repeatedly retold the story of finding you cornered in the hot springs with gusto. The first few times you listened good-naturedly, but grew tired of reliving the moment after hearing it so many times. Especially because your thoughts focused rather traitorously on the moments preceding the one in her story, the ones that, gratefully, no one else was around to witness.

“I hope you’re not too tired for one more visitor,” came a voice, breaking you from your memories.

“Never,” you say, although you watch the former queen approach with an increasing sense of dread. Leia settles on the empty bed beside you.

In all honesty, she might’ve been the last person you wanted to speak with, besides maybe her son. If only she knew what transpired the night before. And if that wasn’t bad enough, you also were weary about following out her request to return to the castle and rescue Kylo, who you were mostly certain was incapable of being saved.

“How are you feeling?” Leia asks. “Rey is outside regaling a crowd with your heroics.”

You smile sheepishly. “I hardly did anything worth noting. Her and Poe were the ones to stop it, not me.”

“Either way, it’s clear that she thinks highly of you,” Leia says. A mask slips over her face then, replacing the expression of motherly concern to one of a diplomatic queen. “I’m not going to pretend that my motives for visiting you aren’t partially because I was hoping for your answer.”

“I know,” you reply. Frankly, you would be insulted if she believed you thought anything else.

“I realize you haven’t been able to give much thought to, with everything,” she says, waving her hand to encompass the events over the past day.

You wince. “No, not really.”

It’s a lie. In your waking moments, all you’ve thought about was your current situation.

“I sent a message to Luke on the off chance that you accept,” Leia says. “He hasn’t taught anyone…well, in a very long time. In fact, his last student was Ben.”

“Really? What happened?”

Leia’s lips purse. “It’s really not my place to say. Let’s just leave it that Ben and my brother do not get along.”

You frown but know not to press. This made you curious about the royal family, and about Kylo Ren himself. He killed his own father, banished his mother, and now you’ve been told that he had a poor relationship with his uncle. And you thought that your family life was messy.

“Do you think he’s even willing to help?” You ask.

“It’s hard to say,” Leia admits. “But he’s always had a tendency to do whatever I tell him.”

You think back to the stonebadger attack and, annoyingly enough, Kylo’s tough love training tactic. You hated to admit he was right. It wouldn’t have been a problem if you knew magic, if you could bend the Force to your will. You needed someone to teach you. And to have Luke Skywalker, one of the greatest magic-users of all time partake in that? You would be ridiculous to decline such an offer.

But you’re not sure you’re ready to accept yet.

Leia opens her mouth, but then closes it. Finally, she says, “I’m also not going to pretend that the information I’m about to present to you isn’t only for your benefit but also the benefit of my agenda.”

“I’m listening.”

At least she was being truthful. You could handle the truth, not hidden and distorted in lies like shadows in a mirror.

“The fourth district is…rebelling, I suppose, for lack of a word.” She pauses as if to let you process this information. You don’t tell her that you already know. “They aren’t letting anyone in, including us. I believe our ambitions are the same but…well, nevermind. What I’m trying to say is, it’s not happening peacefully. And I’m not sure how they plan to survive without anyone in, not even shipments.”

Leia referred to the rations that the First Order sent weekly to each district in a bid to share resources while also ensuring that one district never became too powerful. The First Order controlled food supplies, clothing, and other essentials.

You frown. You know that your district isn’t self sustainable, and that denying the shipments will be detrimental to its survival.

“Why would they do that?” You ask.

Leia shakes her head. “I’m not sure. Rumor has it that they’re rebelling for you, though.”

“For me?” Your frown deepens, brows pulling downwards. “I don’t understand.”

"Word caught about your stepmother hiding away your stepsisters, and how unfair your treatment was. I believe that, in combination with taking girls from each district, incited quite a bit of rage. They're angry about the whole system, calling for the First Order to step down."

“Isn't that what you want, too?"

"It is," Leia sighs. "But they seem to think that, since I'm leading, I would just perpetuate the system and no real changes would be made." Her face twists. "It's my own fault. I sat back and allowed too much to happen without interfering. But that's why I want to do better."

"But you need me," you add, giving voice to the words she left unsaid.

"I believe the first step is saving Ben from Palpatine, and then perhaps we can start to dismantle this terrible system." She looks at you in earnest. "But I didn't just tell you about your district for my own gain. If you go back to the castle and separate yourself from me, you might be able to reason with your district."

You pull the covers up tighter around you, as if they could protect you from your troubles. "But wouldn't I just be aligning myself with Kylo?"

"Yes, but you would be more sympathetic that way. Part of the reason they're rebelling is because he took you. I think you might have a shot," she says, lifting a shoulder. "At least more than you do here. They won't even listen to me."

"How long do I have to think on it?"

"I'm sending another patrol tomorrow afternoon to the castle to investigate how they're rebuilding after the surprise we gave them," Leia says. "I'll leave you until then."

You’re discharged later in the afternoon with instructions on how to properly care for your wound. Equipped with directions from the medic, you head to the barracks. It’s along the way that you overhear snippets of conversation from passing rebels, enough bits and pieces to form a singular focal point.

“—my sister lives in the fifth district, and she told me that nobody came for them today.”

“No more brides?”

“I heard that girl from the fourth district —”

You scurry away. Based on the tone of the last person, you didn’t want to hear what they had to say. Finally you hit the barracks, which is a series of connected rooms featuring several bunk beds. A familiar set of buns falls into your view, and you rush to Rey’s side.

“Is it true what they’re saying?”

Rey startles, then exclaims your name. “It’s you! I didn’t think they would let you out so early. With all of the blood —”

“Is it true? There hasn’t been another bride today?” You ask, slightly hysteric.

Rey frowns. “It’s true.” She studies you skeptically. “Are you sure you’re okay? Did the medics give you a psych eval? Because I can bring you back and —”

You shake your head. “No, no, I’m fine. Really. I just can’t believe it.”

“Crazy, huh?” Rey asks. “It’s the first time in over a year. I don’t think people know what to do with themselves.”

The thought elicits a myriad of emotions within you — delight, surprise, relief. You hadn’t thought about Kylo picking a new bride, but discover you’re glad he didn’t. Would you have been jealous? It’s not an avenue you particularly want to explore.

“Has he said why?”

“Kylo? No. He just hasn’t sent out any troopers with the slipper.” She shrugs. “We probably won’t ever figure out why, but I think I know why.”

When you look at her, bewildered, she laughs and adds, “C’mon, it’s because of you! Obviously he’s found whatever he’s looking for.”

“Why isn’t he coming looking for me then?” You ask in a hushed tone. This has bothered you. His words — you’ll be back — haunt you.

“Maybe he is and we just don’t know it. Whatever the reason, I just know that he wouldn’t let you go unless he had something planned. You saw how he is, he obviously just doesn’t let something go that he thinks is his.” She curses. “Bastard.”

His words strike you again. The smugness, the all-knowing tilt of his head. It makes your blood boil, relighting the flame inside you.

“He knows I’ll come back to him,” you mumble. Stiffening your spine, you tell Rey, “I don’t know if I have a choice not to. But the least I can do is make sure I do it on my own terms.”

Leia glances up at you from her desk. “I’ve been expecting you,” she says.

What was with this family and anticipating your movements?

You left Rey alone and rather confused, fleeing to hunt down the room that Leia used as her own personal office. Thankfully she was there, because your side was splitting with pain and you weren’t sure you could’ve traveled farther.

Resisting the urge to lean over with your hands on your knees and breathe in through your mouth, you plop down in one of the chairs across from the former queen.

“I want to do it.”

Leia perks up. “Really?”

“Yes.” You do your best to look confident. “But I’m going to do it on my terms. Not yours or Kylo’s. Mine.”

“Of course. Anything,” Leia says.

Emboldened, you make your first request: “I’m tired of always doing what I’m told. If I’m going to save Kylo, I’m going to do it independently of you or anyone else. I’m going to operate alone.”

Part Eight

[is-something-on-your-mind]

Thank you so much for running this blog, you’re such a kind person

Can I perhaps get some advice on how to deal with knowing you’re repressing your trauma, but not being able to un-repress it? I got out of an abusive relationship earlier this year, and I keep telling myself it wasn’t that bad despite KNOWING it was bad. I remember they did awful things to me, but I can’t remember them in detail and it makes me feel weird :|

First of all, I’m so proud of you for getting out of that situation! That takes a lot of strength, not only to recognize you’re being abused, but to leave as well. You’ve done an incredible job.

Regarding repression of trauma, there’s a lot to talk about, so I’ll try to break it down!

Scientists and psychologists alike debate on what repression of memories means, or if it’s something that our brains can actually do. But, really, that’s not terribly important right now. What matters is that you are experiencing something, and for you that makes it real and validated. There are symptoms, and so those symptoms can be addressed!

Our memories aren’t that reliable at all. Especially memories of traumatic events or experiences. The way our brains store trauma is in a series of fragments, not a linear recollection. That could be what you’re experiencing, which, if so, is normal and perfectly okay for what you’ve gone through.

And so is purposely ignoring or forgetting memories. They’re upsetting, and make you relive probably what was the worst part of your life. It’s natural that you wouldn’t want to remember or think about it anymore. But unfortunately, it does start to become a problem when it makes you believe your experiences weren’t “that bad”.

If you want to remember what happened, you can. Your memories aren’t completely inaccessible. Find a safe environment where you’ll be okay if you’re to have a panic attack or a flashback, or if things begin to become too much. Recall what you can, and let yourself play it back. Try not to instinctively repress it. Let yourself feel any emotions or reactions that come up. Your body carries the brunt of your trauma, physically. Whatever happened was “bad enough” that your body remembers it, and your brain tries to protect you from it. Everyone responds to trauma differently. There’s no weighing system of what trauma is logistically “worse” or not as serious. All that matters is your reaction to it, how it made you feel, and how it makes you feel.

It’s important sometimes to recognize and acknowledge the reactions you have to these experiences. It helps you to understand just how much it really affected you, even if you think maybe it shouldn’t have. But, the way you respond to things isn’t your fault, nor is it really your decision. It’s an instinctual response. You have nothing to blame yourself for. You didn’t do anything wrong. This is your trauma, and it’s also your right to handle it in any way you want. Just as long as it’s not actively hurting you. It’s your life. Make it comfortable for yourself! Not for others!

[lake-archive]

Scene 34

AO3 Link

Fandom: Persona 5

Character (main): Anja / Luka (OC)

Scene 33 - Masterlist - Scene 35

Having friends over was rare for Luka these days and they knew that their mother had been surprised. Even more so when she had seen who it was when having greeted the two at the door. Mother’s gaze had become a little cold and one could sense the murderous intent coming from her eyes. Luka could just barely prevent the worst and dragged their mother away for a short moment.

“What is she doing here?” She had asked while pointing at the female at the entrance, Maki.

Luka sighed. “It’s… A long story. Not even I know what’s going on.”

“Then why—”

“Listen Mom, she changed. She really did.”

Needless to say it took a bit of convincing yet eventually their mother came around and welcomed Maki in. Though she had to hold herself back. Not a surprise to be honest, mother could be a feisty one after all. And before knowing it she could launch an attack or three yet call them an accident. She once did so when there was an old neighbor in the house she didn’t like. Said something like “Whoops, my hand slipped~” with a smile yet that smile reeked with murderous intent… True story.

Anyhow, it would not take long until Luka escorted Maki upstairs. Apparently she wanted to discuss ‘dating strategies’. They had given up on reasoning and let her talk for the time being. 

“ There’s this festival in town on the 18th! I think you should totally go. And make sure to invite Akechi–Sama~ ” She had said, only making them roll their eyes. Seriously… “ And to make it a success I bought several magazines! We will pick out a yukata and create the perfect plan for that day! Leave it to me! ” Though something told them that Maki was just having fun with all of this… She was even giggling already. Was she really that eager? Hah, Luka didn’t get it.

Though there was one question before the two had lost any word about that once arriving inside their room.

“Hey… Where is your father?” Of course that question would come up, making them freeze on the spot and staring at the door for a moment, not having turned around to the young female. Right, father… No one knew, did they? They only knew one thing and it wasn’t pretty… But… They had to lie still, didn’t they?

“He… Uhm… Mom divorced him some time ago.” They said, trying to keep it together, not have their voice tremble too much.

“Oh, sorry to hear that.” They heard Maki say, then a pause of silence before she spoke up again. “But I know how it feels. My parents are divorced too.”

Hearing that they turned around in one swoop, not having expected to hear that of all things. “They are?”

“Yeah. It’s been years ago. They argued a lot and didn’t get along at all.” She said. “Honestly, I saw you with both of your parents back at the festival during middle school. You three looked very close.”

The festival? Ah, right. When they dragged both of their parents around, just to show them as much as possible. When the three were still carefree and nothing else mattered. In fact, their father had to hold them back as they were too fast for both of their parents. They just wanted to show both of them as much as they could in this little time, make memories and— Ah, were they dwelling on the past yet again? Damn it… 

“D… Did we now?” They asked. 

“Yeah. I was a little envious. So this is a surprise. But it looks like we have something in common, don’t we?”

All Luka could do was nod. He didn’t want to ask any personal questions. Maybe that was also a hard topic for Maki and they made her relive some memories earlier. Besides, her family matters are none of his business. “Seems so.” He agreed in the end.

But the mention made them remember… Father. They still needed to do something about that too. But they had hit a roadblock – They had exhausted all information there, didn’t they? There was only so much on the internet and the files only reported on the alleged facts. Yet even those were cluttered, pages were missing. Did Akechi remove them? No, probably not. At least they don’t think he would go that far. But getting information in their position—

Wait a second… Getting information… Akechi… Ah, right! Wasn’t he investigating the Mental Breakdown Incidents!? He might try to hunt down the Phantom Thieves! If so… Why didn’t they think of this sooner!? If they could prove somehow useful… Maybe they could strike a deal! An actual deal, no tricks or anything like that! They didn’t intend on going this far again but if both get something out of it then it should be worthwhile, right!? And… Well… Maybe they could get a little closer that wa— 

Wait, what were they thinking!? That part shouldn’t even be on their mind. What was important was the investigation and figuring out who convicted their father. And figure out what the Phantom Thieves’ deal is. Yeah! Spending even more time with him should be secondary! … And yet, that part also didn’t leave their mind. Hah, since when did they turn into an idiot like this?

“Anyways, let’s get this plans started!”

“I didn’t even ask if he has time on that day…”

“It’ll be fine. Plus we may as well prepare in case he says yes!”

“Aren’t you jumping the— No, nevermind. Alright, I’ll take a listen.”

Well, that’s a plan then! Or plans rather…

Scene 33 - Masterlist - Scene 35

[writingwithfolklore]

Hello! I’m new to tumblr and am not entirely sure how this works, but this is my response to your post asking about PTSD, I’m not sure if I should send it to you or the person who asked the question, so I’m sorry if I get it wrong.

I have diagnosed PTSD from both individual events and from prolonged trauma. During flashbacks, internally I will recall the memory but against my will, and it literally ‘flashes’ through my mind. My eyes will unfocus and I will be trapped not quite reliving the memory but still experiencing it — I’ll feel phantom hands if there was anything physical in the event, or I’ll hear the voices, feel the emotions I felt and witness the emotions others showed. Different parts of the event will stick out more in flashbacks — usually I only remember the worst words that were said, but sometimes I don’t remember any words and they jumble together, but I clearly remember emotions. For instance, I’ll recall the anger in someone’s voice and especially their volume, and I’ll remember the fear I felt, or I’ll remember their hands on me, but I don’t often remember words. The worst parts of the event will repeat at the forefront of my mind, sometimes even the same few seconds, while other parts of what happened occur sequentially and quieter/more distant in the background, like a montage of some sort, overwhelming me. Outwardly, my eyes are always unfocused, expression always blank, I’m always tense and I sometimes rock back and forth. (I’m autistic and rock back and forth subconsciously in response to any distress). It usually takes a few tries to snap me out of it as I won’t ‘hear’ someone saying my name the first few times, but if they touch me it snaps me out of it immediately and I shrink away from them. I’ve been told I usually appear dazed once snapped out of it, sometimes breathing hard and other times taking a moment to breathe at all. If I have a flashback around people, I immediately remove myself from the situation and find a place to be alone so I can calm myself down before a full blown panic attack, but more often than not if I have flashbacks while awake, I’ll dissociate and show signs of that in my interactions with people. If I have a nightmare about specific events I have flashbacks to, I’ll almost always wake up right before or in the middle of a panic attack (usually in the middle as I will often recognize I’m having a nightmare but be unable to wake myself up). In my flashbacks, I’m always the ‘current me’ even if I experienced the event many years ago, as a child even. The flashback will even adjust to accommodate that such as physical things being done to my current body and eye contact being made higher to accommodate how I’ve grown in height. However, my voice will stay the same as it was during the event if I talk in the flashbacks, but I very rarely talk in them even if I talked during the actual event — the flashbacks are always what was done to me or around me and how I physically responded to it, not how I verbally responded to it. I’m sorry this is so long, but I hope it helps! :)

(From our Research Game, question by @z-mizcellaneous-z)

This is perfect, thank you!

[m3lsgold3ntrash]

Hey, It’s Mel.

Once upon a time, I used to be everything I allowed others to mold me into.

Being molded into what feels socially acceptable.

Transpiring into the “perfect”daughter, granddaughter, child, teenager, friend, girlfriend, and spouse.. JESUS, you see where I’m going. It’s fucking IMPOSSIBLE to try and reach everyone’s expectation.

Sadly, It took me 28 years of living in this “dumpster” to come to the realization: the ones who deserve the real you, will accept you as is, trash and all.

Self reflection is arduous. It’s about stripping away all the outsiders and distractions. Allowing yourself to internally look for the scraps of YOU… that unfortunately got lost in the obis of the landfill…

My advice: retreat to your childhood. Back when the innocents of making mud potions and collecting rocks were magical. Allow yourself to immerse into the exulting memories of what ignited your soul.

As a child of an injustice abusive home. I kept my childhood inclosed into a box. I stored that damn thing as far as I could in the attic. Never wanting to expose the reality of where most have never endured. Believing that if anyone saw the trash I was collecting, they’d wouldn’t want the gold I presented.

Unpacking my childhood box had me reliving the moments of reality I begged myself not to relive. It was shuffling through the ugliness of darkness. Finding the moments of light hidden in the crevices. Having to indulge myself into the box…

Have you ever gotten distracted unpacking? Good, I’m not the only one.

I started pulling out the memorandums I didn’t even remember I had…trying them on like an old pair of jeans I swore I’d fit again. Realizing…yeah, that’s not my persona.

That’s exactly how I mangled down the passages of these memories.

I found myself admiring the truths, like pieces of precious jewels. Piece by piece, I mended together the most beautiful crown.

A crown I subconsciously refrained from wearing because of unworthiness.

How can I put on this crown with constant darkness illuminating words of alienation toward me?

It became my pursuit in life to allow myself the authority to put on the damn crown. I knew this warfare was going to be detrimental to secure the key to the castle. Battling darkness, one panic attack, at a time. Screaming, crying and combating toward my personal fucking hell. But I did it, alone.

“Bow down to royalty.”

Honey, I made darkness my bitch.

Enjoy The First View Of My Kingdom.

[doctorprofessorsong]

New fic rec list, and this one's a banger!

I CARRY YOUR HEART (I CARRY IT IN MY HEART by unicornpoe @danger-and-diatribes (Explicit, 26k)

Have you ever read a fic that you know a few lines in you will be reading again and again? A fic that you can feel rewiring your brain? This fic was it for me. The premise: when Cas is attacked and put into a magical coma, unable to awaken, Dean offers use of his vessel so that Cas can be conscious and with him while they find a cure.

I have talked about other unicornpoe fics in the past. I love that this author writes a deeply traumatized Dean and a deeply compassionate, patient Cas. And this one is particularly amazing. It's about trust. It's about letting yourself be loved. It's a Dean Winchester character study. It's so deeply compassionate and beautiful and it will make you hold your breath. 

 

let the sky turn red from how we burn by playedwright @castumes (Mature, 10k)

A Cas character study and one of the most beautiful things I have read in a long time. Cas relives his memories in The Empty ad his family tries to recover him. A simple enough concept so beautifully executed that it made me ugly cry, which is something I do not do. There is a gentleness and a longing to this fic that left me completely undone. 

It should be mandatory reading for Casgirls (gn). It's absolutely phenomenal. 

 

Evangelist by emmbrancsxx0 @valleydean (Explicit, 334k)

As you may know from my prior rec lists, I am VERY picky about AU fics. I have read so many great stories where I finish and say: that was a great story, but it wasn't THEM. And there is a soft bit of disappointment in it, because I wanted a Dean and Cas story. But I trust Mallory and I was so right. The Dean in this fic is very early Dean in a lot of ways. Lonely, self-sacrificing, feeling the burden of an absent father. But he’s also very comfortable with his sexuality. I love him. He's so intense and so lonely. But it's the Cas in this fic that makes me want to break through the wall like the kool-aid man. He is weird and awkward and earnest and adorable and I want to put him in my pocket. He's similar to Cinderwings Cas and Under the Midnight Sun Cas, two of my all time favorite Cas iterations. And together? They have that eye fucking, nobody else exists canon intensity. I was begging the to kiss by chapter 3. Meanwhile, the story has so many canon parallels to ground it in the show. Truly, it's an experience.

It's a college AU. Cas is a rich student from a family that basically owns the town and everyone in it. Dean is a bartender and a mechanic working to support his brother Sammy (also a student), during long absenses of his father (a trucker and stone cold bastard). After a few chance meetings, Dean and Cas find that they can't seem to help being pulled into each other's orbit. And they are truly so obsessed with each other that they barely notice the sketchy shit that is happening around them until it’s almost too late. 

 

Half Empty by Sinnabonka @sinnabonka (Mature, 37k) 

Plotty and complex, this one will keep you guessing until the end. Dean wakes up after an accident with memory loss. He struggles to put the pieces together regarding a case with several missing persons while also dealing with confusing and spotty memories.

I don't want to tell you too much, because half the fun is trying to untangle what's happening. But this is a story about grief and love and putting the pieces back together. It's also a horror story full of existential foreboding. It's beautiful and twisty and I can’t recommend it highly enough. 

Operation Brain Bleach by Briston (E, 30k words)

This cursed and funny concept makes for a really fun read. Eileen and Sam are tired of waiting for Dean and Cas to get their act together, so they concoct a plan to make them pretend they are in a relationship. Dean and Cas are all too happy to play along, with increasingly horny results. It's funny and fun and extremely readable.

A Different Kind of Monster by roadtonowhere (lastoryx) and xfancyfranzi (Explicit, 89k)

When Dean accidentally hits a monster with his car, he's forced to bring him along as he tries to understand what the hell he's dealing with. Cas is like no monster he's ever seen, and his presence forces Dean to confront everything his father taught him. A canon adjacent exploration of what would happen with a few changes, this one is really good. I love the slow dismantling of John's philosophies on sexuality, gender and monsters. In a lot of ways, this is a character study and an exploration of shades of gray in the SPN universe, but don't let that fool you. There are also several really great cases in the fic that will have you invested.

It's hopeful and satisfying. It's an interesting take on what might have been.

Contingency by Cheerful_Shinigami (Explicit, 123k)

I really didn't set out to read two alternate S4 fics, but they are both so good and super different. This fic explores an alternative story where Cas falls for one of his prior acts of rebellion and he decides to save Dean from Hell before he breaks, maintaining the first seal and angering Heaven and Hell. However, Cas is so damaged that he has to possess Dean. 

So much of this fic had me losing my mind. From reimagined episodes to some of my favorite Sammy content in a really long time (including a headcanon that I am obsessed with). The relationships are a bit healthier and everyone talks a bit more and honestly it's just a really great read from start to finish.

And if none of that tickles you pickle, help yourself to some prior rec lists.

And if you want to be tagged on my future fic rec lists, drop me a line.

[askfallenroyalty]

For the dark world design things, I like the sprite where they all become kids but like, did this take place earlier or they all just be like Chara and tranform into their younger self?

Because both didn't really make sense since if it's the first, the story would ended earlier and you have to redraw the arc after to make them younger which probably isn't good for uhh, time probably, or Chara thought after this adventure like, few years later after it ended which isn't realistic, if it's the latter then that mean all of them want to be younger... which probabpy isn't that unrealistic but it would make Chara's situation not unique or special to their situation or whatever, or it mean the dark world work different... which is possible actually but why would G man make a world that make everyone that get in it become superpowered children, what if younger kid or adult get in?

Or maybe they all got in before as a kid and this is the sprite for that, or you just make the younger design as a joke or because you want and I overthink it

Or it's secret and you are not gonna tell me which is ok I just like being a conspiracy theorist lol

NAH you're fine lmao sorry i should of clarified this. i'm still unsure about it.

my logic was chara made the darkworld so it's influenced by their desire -but you're right, the outfits themselves seem separate from that. it's more customized to the individual, same as how Ralsei's castle and Queen's mansions become personalized. The world itself is influenced by Noelle (I assume she accidently made it? but also Kris could of been the one to do so... the world fits Noelle more) And becoming a kid is A Thing with Noelle for like, 1 second, so this isn't even out of the realm of possiblities.

And ALSO yeah, this world is (probably) made from a gaster fragment or at least houses one, it's separate from Deltarune the game and it's canon. I'm not even sure this IS a darkworld or if it's a simulation of one. (maybe the CORE secretly powers a pocket universe that Gaster made? that Chara accidently connects to and drags the gang into)

[has alt id]

Actually i was about to do a write up of pros/cons but i realized making them all kids is a bad idea. it just doesn't work.

cause like, I wanted them all to be kids to keep it consistent between them, but you're right it makes it less special/shocking when chara is Baby. (thinking this time around, we follow Frisk first and then meet with Chara.) anyway i wanted this because the main conflict is that Chara is wanting to force everyone to relive the past, so making Frisk a Baby and relieve their memories isn't a happy thing like it is to Chara.

BUT that happens when Chara True Resets anyway! I feel that'd lose a LOT of significance because we get used to Frisk being a teenager by the time we get to that story point. Also like, the reverse makes a fun effect of "oh YEAH Chara is a teenager! I got used to baby chara again!"

so yeah. i can't justify it and it lessens plot/thematic elements. Plus, its too repetive, even if I think it'd make it more clear what Frisk's problem with reliving the past is like

actually, I can do that with the reset thign too. Cause Frisk HATED being attacked by monsters and Chara's kinda forgotten about that since. So I'm gonna show them fight a lil before they confront Flowey.

Frisk's bard aspect (which like, is based on how I introduced teenage frisk with Vocaloid, this outfit is loosely inspired by that)

Anyway I need to establish more of their story BUT I think the designs should reflect them more (like you pointed out!) like, originally, Frisk was going to have this side plot over befriending Suzy (their universe version of Susie) that was, sadly, dropped because Susie was stuck with Kris and it made more sense for Chara to stay away from Frisk after the DW adventure (cause Chara broke their promise)

BUT now i have the chance to actually explore that! So now, Frisk takes the adventure with MK to be a fun game and a chance to befriend Suzy. I really want Frisk's adventure to be separate from Chara's journey, because Frisk being mopey was Defs over done in the OG, and it makes it more impactful when Frisk gets upset if they're more happy the rest of the time.

Frisk still hates fighting (god. i'm gonna have to design a bunch of enemies...) but since they're not alone (and being haunted by chara), they don't mind it nearly as much. the Vibes of Deltarune (where most enemies just want to capture you) vs. UT (where most enemies are trying to kill you) are so drastically different. Frisk would be SO happy about this change.

[bxckybarness]

What I Missed - Loki Laufeyson

summary: while in custody at the TVA, loki realizes what he misses from the future, only to be surprised by what he gets in the present

word count: 2100+

warnings: a little angsty, a little emotional, mention of loki’s death, episode 1 spoilers

Today was certainly not Loki’s day.

Over the course of a few hours (or more, or less, this is the TVA, afterall) he had been in the custody of the Avengers, had happened upon the Tesseract and escaped from New York. It seemed too good to be true, and it was. Just when he thought he had truly outsmarted the Earthly heroes again, he was imprisoned and taken again.

Now here he was, under the supervision of the Time Variance Authority and one, Mobius, a bizarre administrator in charge of tracking down the most dangerous of variants. It all seemed like madness to Loki. He was used to silly games and grandiose tricks but this story of timelines and space lizards seemed beyond even his own trickery. It seemed downright absurd. And annoying.

He had been subject to what he would call an interrogation. Mobius, however, called it a simple conversation. A slideshow of his life, his “greatest hits” as Mobius had called it and a relentless fire of questions, the memory of which continued to burn in his memory:

Should you return, what are you going to do?

King of Midgard? Then what, happily ever after?

King of Space?

Why does someone with so much capability just want to rule?

Do you enjoy hurting people?

That one had burned most of all. Did he enjoy hurting people? Hardly. And it was upsetting to him that anyone would think that. But he also understood what he appeared to be to every other living creature. He had just relived the moment in which he killed that daft agent and his mother. His mother. He refused to believe he was at fault for that. Frigga was the only person who truly saw him and whom Loki cared for deeply. But it seemed so clear in the moving picture, he had led them right to her.

It was in that moment, with tears and rage in his eyes, he knew he needed to get out of the disastrous time circus. He no longer cared to be a monkey in this ring. If he could find the tesseract, he could escape and be free once again.

That plan had gone almost perfectly. The only thing that went wrong - there is no magic in the TVA. No matter how many times he held the tesseract in his hands, wishing it to take him back to Midgard or Asgard, he was met with nothing but the bland walls in this TVA Time Theater. There was no hope in escaping.

Feeling exhausted, Loki slowly moves toward the table in the center of the room. He sits down and admires the machine in front of him. As grim as the stories it held could be, it was still quite fascinating that it could replay the highlights from his life - in a weird way, at least. He reaches out and turns the knob, searching for the moment his mother dies. He finds it and watches in silence for a while, tears beginning to fall down his face.

He turns the knob again.

He sees a future version of himself sitting next to his father and Thor. He watches as his father declares his love for his sons. Sons, plural. Both Thor and him. A small smile graces Loki’s face before Odin disappears, leaving the two men behind. Loki holds back a sob as tears continue to flood from his eyes. His father did love him, did see purpose for him. He wasn’t just the mischievous son. He’s sad that it took this long to understand that, and sad that he never got to experience this himself, even if a future version of him did.

Another turn of the knob.

This scene immediately feels different. He sees a garden, full of life, beautiful flowers blooming in every direction. He sees himself, sitting under a tree smiling next to a young woman. As the scene progresses he realizes this version of him is smiling at you. He lets out a small gasp when he watches the pair share a kiss and wipes the quickly falling tears from his cheeks. He had always loved you, but had never gotten the chance to tell you. The two of you had met through Thor, when he brought both you and Jane to Asgard. He had taken to you quickly, enjoying your similar sarcasm and humor - something that was scarce within his home realm. You, like his mother, had always seen the good in him and had understood his struggle. It was something he would never understand, you being of Midgard. You knew what he had done and had been there to see the destruction, but still saw him not as the God of Mischief or Earth Enemy #1, only Loki. He aches for the fact that he never got to feel the happiness his future self did, especially when it was happiness with you.

Turn the knob.

Loki and Thor stand in a room together. Loki lets out a small laugh in the midst of his tears, wondering how his oaf of a brother managed to lose an eye. Maybe a dumb bet between the two of them, maybe there was a battle amongst the nine realms. He’s quickly pulled from his thoughts as he hears Thor speak.

“Maybe you’re not so bad after all, brother.”

“Maybe not,” the future Loki responds.

“Thank you,” Thor replies, “If you were here, I might even give you a hug.”

“I’m here.”

Loki smiles and nods to himself. From where he’s sitting now, it’s a wonder that he and his brother ever made up. He realizes now that the fighting and the sibling rivalry may have all been in his head. He, again, curses himself for leaving New York and allowing himself to miss these moments that he’s been waiting his whole life for.

Fast-forward.

He and you lay in a room, seemingly on the same ship as the previous scene. You lay snug against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You hum softly before speaking up.

“I love you, you know.”

By the look on both of your faces, it’s the first time this has been said out loud. There’s nervous tension in the room, Loki can feel it through this screen. He somehow knows the words his future self is going to say before he hears them.

“I love you too, darling. You bring out the best in me.”

You snuggle closer to him, if that’s even possible, and there’s a comfortable silence for a few seconds. Loki takes a moment to admire this picture. It was something he had wanted since he had first met you on Asgard. You had stuck out like a sore thumb, dressed in your casual Midgardian clothes. He couldn’t have missed you even if he tried, nobody could have. And boy was he glad about that now.

“Promise me something,” he watches himself say.

“Anything,” you whisper. “Anything for you, Loki.”

“Promise me, no matter what, you’ll always help me see the good in myself. I’ve too long suffered at the hands of those who desperately wish for me to see the bad.”

You let out a laugh and the Loki stuck in time laughs with you, “Oh, Loki. I wish you could see yourself as I see you. But I promise.”

“Thank you, my love.”

“You, Loki, may be a God, but you will always just be the man I fell in love with. The good, kind, and honorable man I call mine.”

Turn, again.

Loki sees himself kneeling and before he can question why, he watches as his future self moves to attack someone in front of him. When Loki realizes it's Thanos, he’s quickly on his feet, moving closer to the screen. The tears are gone now, and a silent rage burns behind his eyes. There was nothing from Loki but hate for the purple titan. He watches in horror as Thanos picks Loki up from the floor, a death grip on his neck. Loki wonders to himself how he would get himself out of this scenario had he been there. He assumes an illusion would do the trick. However, he notices your distraught figure behind the mad titan. He can hear your screams as you kneel next to Thor, who is imprisoned in cuffs. He hears you call out to him and he knows this will not end well. His suspicions are right when he watches his death. A shocked gasp comes from his throat as the tape in front of him runs out, nothing left to show.

Loki quickly sits back down and closes his eyes, trying his hardest to process the vision he saw. To one version of him, these would have been experiences and now memories. To him, though, these were all subtle tastes of a life he lost. He lost a touching moment with his father and a long awaited declaration of love from him. He lost the reconciliation with his brother and the confession that they had been more partners than rivals. Even though to him it had not yet happened, he missed it all, and it upset him deeply.

What hurt Loki the most was the idea that he lost his chance to feel his love reciprocated. Loki had never had much luck with romance. He was often seen as the sly younger brother and was usually too occupied to try and compete with Thor for the maidens at court. When he met you, he thought he had a chance. You were the first woman who saw him as his own person and not just as Thor’s brother. The relationship between the two of you had blossomed quickly and he found himself always sneaking away from his princely duties to see you. He had shown you his favorite places in Asgard and had opened up to you in ways he had never done before. He loved you and wanted you to be his. His one regret was not initiating a relationship before you had left for Midgard. And he thought his chances had been ruined by his actions in New York. Oh, how wrong he was.

Before Loki can dwell on his future more, Mobius comes bursting into the room.

“Ah Loki, glad you made your way back here. I have something for you,” he says.

“If this is another one of your tricks, I’m not currently in the mood,” Loki responds coolly.

“Just trust me on this one.”

Mobius shouts over his shoulder for someone to “bring her in.” Loki eyes the guards who walk in suspiciously until he notices who they bring with them. He can hardly believe his eyes. The gods in all the realms must be smiling down on him today, after all, because there you stand. He takes in your hideous red and white space suit, emblazoned with the Avengers logo, and he’s at least thankful he missed whatever battle this suit was required for.

He quickly stands and rushes over to you, a smile quickly gracing his face. You meet his gaze with a smile that is just as big and tears begin to flow from your eyes.

“Loki,’ you start. “Is that really you?”

He nods and speaks, although his words are barely audible, “It’s me, my love.”

“God, I thought I lost you forever. That’s why I went back in time to find you.”

Loki nods, now, unable to believe what he’s hearing, “You went back to find me?”

“Yes, but look what good that did me,” you say with a smirk. Loki’s heart pulls and he feels he could fall over right there. Norns, he missed you and your witty humor.

“Well,” he says, reciprocating your sly attitude, “You found me did you not? I might not be the same Loki as you knew, but I am still Loki.”

“The good, kind, and honorable Loki that I call mine.”

Loki smiles and you move forward to give him a hug. You’re cautious, though, because you aren’t exactly sure what part of the timeline this Loki came from. Maybe you had already been dating, maybe not. That was something to figure out another time though.

“Alright then,” Mobius says from behind you, “Let’s get you two caught up on what you missed with each other.”

Today was certainly not Loki’s day. And he had cursed all that was good that he had ended up at the TVA, taken from the life he knew. But now? He didn’t mind. He knew the relationships that were broken with his brother and father had been mended, he knew that one version of him had sacrificed himself for good and he had you, not only in memory but in the flesh. And sure, you had lots to rediscover within your relationship, but you would do that together.

[goggles-mcgee]

In your Wish Me Away Au you said that Adrien can't believe that that is his reality, what exactly happened to him and Gabriel, as well as the class? Please and Thank You! ❤

Hi anon! I'm sorry this took so long to answer! I'm trying to go through all my asks now XD

So Adrien thought his life would be perfect. He was convinced the wish would bring his mother back, her and his father would be back to being how they were before she disappeared. Lovey dovey (if he had paid more attention he would have noticed how his mother was distancing him and her from Gabriel.) His father would be loving, attentive, and caring towards him. He would get the love of Ladybug after she saw that everything was fine after the Wish was made and they would finally get to be together. Finding out it was Marinette was a surprise but one he could work with. After all she was a great friend so he had no doubt they could form a great relationship if she showed her Ladybug side more often which she would because Ladybug had to be the real her. He would get to go to school and be happy with Ladybug and him and her would get to continue to be Paris’s beloved heroes.

Once the wish was made though? His mother did wake up but his father wasn't there and neither was Nathalie. Most worrying though was the fact that Ladybug wasn't there anymore either. He looked for her everywhere in the mansion. He helped his mother to a bed and get settled before he promised to explain everything once she rested before he had gone on a mad search across Paris to find Marinette. He was in more distress when he realized he no longer had the Cat Miraculous. He called Nino and tried to be nonchalant about asking if he knew where Marinette was or if she changed her number. It infuriated him when he wasn't given a positive answer. More so when Marinette’s number (or maybe her old number?) blocked him. In the end he had to return home and care for his mother. He tried explaining what happened but they got a call from the prison and it ended up being his dad! He couldn't leave his cell! And no one could get him out! They tried but they just found out he could make phone calls, so one of the guards gave him his phone while the rest tried to find Ladybug because this obviously had to be an akuma....no one said anything. Gabriel told Adrien to tell his mother everything.

So he did. It was to his surprise that she was not happy in the least. She refused to take his father's calls and she seemed really disappointed in him. But she agreed to help look for Ladybug with him. It wasn't until the broadcast when things went to hell. This fake Ladybug announced to Paris maybe even the whole world what his father did! And really? Bringing up silly school misunderstandings? No that didn't matter, what mattered was apparently Ladybug no longer existed. His mother cried. He threw a fit. There was no way she just disappeared. No way.

Then the burning sensation started. At first it was just an itch but then it grew and grew into a searing pain. He thought his finger was going go fall off! His mother was holding him and asking what was wrong as he held his hand close to his chest. It ended. And when it did he saw what happened. He had been marked. On his ring finger, where his ring used to sit, there was a burn in the shape of said ring so charred, so ugly, so red, there would be no way to hide it with makeup. No way to explain it off as an allergic reaction to some funky metal. Then there was a pain on his face. Shorter than the first pain, hurt all the same. When he looked in a mirror later on, he would see four scratch marks across his left cheek. It would be later that he would find out that he could not speak of the Miraculous. The only thing he could say about them was he was the traitor Chat Noir. He would be plagued by bad luck, some days better than others. It would depend on his actions of the day. Minimal bad luck would be him helping people out to be genuine and not because he wanted to look good. The worst luck would be if he was being deceitful, massively selfish, or came at anybody with ill intent. Even if he just thought of anything malicious, bad luck would follow. If he ever tried to place blame on his situation on anyone other than himself he would hear all the negative thoughts everyone in Paris ever had of him. Everything Marinette had ever made him turned to ash.

Gabriel woke up in a maximum security prison cell. None of his personal belongings on him. It was as infuriating as it terrifying. He called out to anyone who was listening and several guards rushed in in a panic. They tried to get him out but if they managed to open the cell door he found he couldn't take a step out without searing pain. If anyone tried to step in, it was like an invisible wall prevented them, so one of the guards slid him their cellphone so he could notify his family what was going on. They all thought it was an akuma so he let them continue to believe that. He fully believed Adrien, Nathalie, and Emilie would visit him in all the confusion. But Adrien was the only one who would talk to him. Emilie refused and apparently Nathalie had disappeared. Then the broadcast happened.

The guards no longer slipped him special meals, fresh clothes, the phone he had been using was magically taken away and given back to the guard who had lent it to him. He was a prisoner there. Fully. He couldn't believe it. He tried to call for Nooroo to no avail. He tried to call on Tikki, Plagg, the godforsaken voices he spoke to before. Nothing. Then the pain happened and no one rushed to check on him. They stood there watching. When it was over he opened his uniform to see a burn on his chest in the exact shape of the Butterfly Miraculous. That was not all, when he removed the top of his uniform after feeling pain on his back, he was notified and shown that he had two slashes on his back...right where wings most likely would have sat. He mourned for Nathalie, he truly did not think she would have been a price... when he slept...if you could even call it that, he saw Nathalie, and everytime she sacrificed her happiness for his. He felt her love for him. He felt her pain everytime he rejected her. He felt the pain she was in once she started wearing the Peacock Miraculous.

Then there were the other things. He remembered Mlle Dupain-Cheng, but that was not all, he would see her possible futures, what she could have become if he had not taken her from the world. She had so much potential. He saw how many in Paris would have mourned her and how deeply if they kept their memories. And not just as Ladybug, oh no, there were many who would have mourned the baker's daughter because she truly touched that many lives. There were days he could not move because of pain. Pain he felt because he was reliving the victims of akuma attacks. There were moments were he felt he surely was going to die but he didn't. He never did. And he would hear a voice say he would live a long healthy life before he met his end. He would have days were he felt all the fear, the anguish, the hate, the anger that Paris held for him. It truly was torture. Then Emilie divorced him.

I'll do a separate post for the class I think!