#if this is from my depression all along i’m gonna scream but i need to know

[thatone-churro]

okay. i know it’s a very bad idea to seek mental health advice from the internet, especially tumblr of all places, but i have a genuine question about this.

actually, before i get too far, i guess i should add some context about myself:

i’m fairly talkative in a certain sense. i like talking. if i start talking about something i like, or if i get excited while talking, i can talk a lot. when i’m alone, i tend to talk to myself a lot. just verbalizing thoughts, mostly; talking myself through a strategy, just voicing my thoughts as i play through a video game, or sometimes just babbling as though i’m talking to someone else. this is a frequent thing and not the root of my concern.

course, sometimes i talk a little less in public or in certain social situations if i’m not “invited” to speak too (more than just being spoken to first, but that’s another explanation i don’t want to go into right now), but i’ve always been like that; something, something, i know it’s more about social anxiety or something that i know i inherited and is a different discussion for a different day.

so, every now and then i have these days where, for lack of a better description, talking feels like it takes too much energy. even that doesn’t feel like it explains it properly but. like the same struggle to get out of bed on a rough day. like somehow speaking, the act of opening my mouth and forcing words out of my throat, takes too many spoons. the same way it feels like taking a shower or brushing your teeth has too many steps despite it being a simple process when your depression’s acting up (we’ll get back to this comparison in a minute).

i can tell when these days come on before i even have to speak to someone; it feels like my words are stuck in my throat. i mean that physically; there’s not actually something in my throat, but there’s a weight of some sort.

i’ve taken to calling these days “quiet days,” since this feeling affects just about everything associated with talking; making myself talk is a struggle; i can’t even talk to myself and all those monologues and discussions happen inside my head instead, but i can’t verbalize them; i don’t want people to talk to me on these days, as in there’s a deliberate, subconscious feeling already there on those days, not that i’m not wanting to talk because of the other feelings; actively listening to and comprehending things people say is also an effort to do, and i tend to tune out my music or whatever background noise i set for myself more than usual; i’ve recently discovered that this same feeling is applied to singing, much to my dismay, because i found this out on a day i kinda wanted to sing.

it’s not that i can’t speak on these days, i can physically make myself if i have to, it just takes more conscious effort sometimes than something like speaking should.

now, i used to chalk this up to being standard nonverbal bouts. i’d heard those were common among neurodivergents, and while i’m not officially diagnosed with anything (classic “everyone does that”/“that’s just something you got from me” type childhood), a lot of symptoms for both ADHD and autism (that i’ve heard of/looked into) match up pretty sharply with me.

however, no accounts from actually autistic people that i’ve read who go nonverbal at times really match up with my experiences. for me, it’s never a response to stress, anxiety, or overstimulation; it’s just something that happens on any given day and sometimes ebbs and flows throughout the day (as in sometimes it’s easier in some parts of the day, but not others, without any particular cue), and it’s never me going absolutely nonverbal, just a preference not to speak from it feeling like it’s too much to do sometimes.

remember that comparison i made to having to speak on “quiet days” feeling like trying to do basic things on bad depression days? yeah, i noticed on a day it hit that it felt very much like that, because i did feel it earlier that day; i found trying to make myself sing or even talk to myself out loud somehow felt like a process with too many steps and i didn’t have enough energy, just like trying to get out of bed that morning (to the point that i didn’t “get up” until that afternoon).

so, all that text and explanation leads to my one question: are these bouts and “quiet days” more from “going nonverbal” as a “symptom” of autism, or simply a symptom of my depression? or can it be chalked up to anything else at all? i’ve never seen or read anything about this on either side, and if it’s something from my depression, then that’s gonna make me take it much more seriously than i have been in the past. or like, is it just me and not anything at all?

any advice appreciated 🙏

[lunajay33]

Why Me? Part.2

•🤎🐺🪵🍂🌑•

Summary: Bella and Y/n are twins but when Bella and Renee moved away you stayed with Charlie always growing closer with the people around La push, but when Bella comes back it’s like everything is flipped around, Bella becomes distant obsessed with the cullens, you find solace with the guys at the beach but things change after the first year and suddenly you’re all alone, will anyone come back, will Paul your best friend, your forever crush come save you from depression

Pairing: Paul Lahote x f!reader

Warnings: Depression

Part.1

•Masterlist•

Song Suggestion: Heartbeat by Nessa Barrett

Hopping down from the wolf I make my way closer to the house but before I can enter strong warm arms wrap around me I know who it is instantly

“Paul” I choke out before crumbling to the ground in tears for the second time this night , the cold ground meeting my knees his arms still secure around my hips hind chest pressing against my back hearing his cries along with mine

“Why did you leave me” I scream letting myself feel everything I’ve gone through the last month

“I’m so sorry Angel, please give me a chance to explain”

“But you hurt me so badly” my cries settling a bit seeing Sam and Emily come out the house worried

“Please I’ll do anything please” he was begging and he never begged, I nodded warily, he picked me up effortlessly and brought me into the house setting me back on the couch Emily and Sam lingering near obviously knowing what’s going on

“Is this normal Sam? For the bond to cause her these emotions to such an extent?” Paul asked from over his shoulder as he was kneeled infront of me his hands never leaving mine

“The bond can cause despair when separated but to this extent for her to be physically ill must mean you have a much deeper connection than just the bond, you can’t leave her again Paul we don’t know what could happen” the talked like I wasn’t right here and they made no sense

“What’re you guys talking about, you said you’d explain”

“I will but…….y/n how could you try to kill yourself, that would’ve devastated everyone, to lose the most precious being to walk this town”

“It was too much Paul, with you gone and Bella being preoccupied by Edward and Jacob with Bella I was alone and it just grew the pit in my heart” I sighed feeling the emotions of the day finally drain me

“Never again, I’ll never leave but what I’m going to tell you is gonna be a lot”

He told me everything, how he and Sam were wolves how it ran in their blood and only came out when vampires appeared, their truce with the cullens how I had to keep everything a secret, but most of all how I was Paul’s imprint and why he had to stay away to protect me

Everything suddenly made sense but it didn’t make it hurt any less

“Are you okay Angel?” Paul asked after the long pause that lingered in the air

I sucked in a quick sharp breath just registering everything

“But what now, will I get better, what about us what’re we now?”

“You’ll get better in time as long as we keep seeing eachother, and like I said I’ll be anything you need, your best friend, your protector, your boyfriend”

“I wanna be with you Paul, I can’t lie about it anymore, it’s always been you since day one” his warm hand caressed my cheek making some of the pain go away

“I knew it would always be you, but you have to promise to never do what you almost did tonight, even though I hate those blood suckers I’m glad he saved you in time, cause I’m never letting you go again” his head pressed against mine our lips so close

“I love you Paul”

“I love you too always”

Get home at 12 am felt different, my conscience was clear once again, me and Paul stand in the back yard as he walked me home I guess, I rode on his back as he walked in his wolf form, it was all crazy really, my best friend a shapeshifting wolf

“Can you stay the night maybe? I just don’t want you to go just yet” i ask fiddling with his fingers

“You go up to your room open the window I’ll be up”

I ran up the stairs as lightly as I could in hope to not disturb dad or Bella who was probably accompanied by Edward, then being vampires didn’t scare me atleast not them they were nice especially alice Jasper and Emmett

I flipped on my lamp and opened the window looking down to see Paul quickly climbing up the house and right through the window

“So you’re super human too”

“Still got your humour” he smiles as he huffs spreading out in my bed like usual when he comes over

Changing into pajamas and joining him in bed, it wasn’t weird we’ve been doing this kind of thing since kids

“I’ve missed this” I sighed curling up into his radiating warmth compared to the cold sheets that replaced him when he was gone

“You have no idea how much I wanted to come to you every night and make sure you were okay, it killed to have to stay away from my mate, my best friend” he sighed running his hands through my hair

“You’ll be here when I wake up right?” Worried he’ll be gone and this was all just a dream

“Always”

And he was for the rest of my life he was there every morning

Taglist: @lilredcamaro14 @cvmtitss @larissa01-blog2 @evanpetersmood @xocellyy @sbrn0905

[iwanty0uu]

“𝐺𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑃𝑢𝑚 𝑃𝑢𝑚 𝑁𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑠 𝐺𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟“~𝓁ℯ𝓁ℯ ✧˚ · . ✧˚ · . ✧˚ · .

pt5…

He maneuvered you through the walk way and turned on the lights, as ‘All Mine ‘ began to play through the small JBL speaker resting on his bed along with a basket full of his hoodies, candy, skin care things, and flowers. He then brought out a huge target bag and gave it to you, smiling showing his pearly whites. Grills still in, mustache only a bit longer than usual made him look extra fine. “AWWWWW CON CONNN HOW SWEET OF YOU!” you practically screamed nearly dropping the bag, hugging him. Lifting you up laughing, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he placed you on the bed. “Boy fuck no I’m not laying in your bed in my outside clothes” “You’re ridiculous y/n” he sighed watching you strip, sliding off your biker shorts and folding them, and stuffing them into the portion of your bag made for dirty clothes.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Sitting criss cross apple sauce while he leaned on his dresser, licking his lips at the imprint of your pussy through your underwear. Such a pervert. A long purple heavy item was pulled out of the bag, you seen a plush white fabric on the other side, and to your surprise, it was the weighted blanket that you had been eyeing in target but was sold out when you went to buy it. “Thank you so much boo!! I literally love your whole soulll” you said wrapping the blanket around yourself. You went through the whole basket, saying thank you every time you found something new, showering him with words of affirmation and compliments. “I’m gonna go use this in the shower” you said taking the face masks and shower gel your almost-boyfriend got you. He couldn’t help but spoil you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It was his love language and he did it because he loved you. He was in love with you, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it, but he was afraid that he would fuck up the one thing that he cherished in his life. So Sasha helped him write a letter and made it look all Shakespeare-ish. Dipping it in coffee, leaving it to dry, tearing and burning it a little, he was so pleased with how it looked but didn’t want to see your reaction to it in fear of rejection. You left the steam filled shower all clean and lathered up in some nice Aveeno lotion ,hair neatly tied in a head-tie alone after removing your bonnet. “Ima shower too” He said quickly grabbing a towel and leaving the note on the bed. “what’s thi-“ the door shut before you could answer. “rude ass” the note was flipped over, a curious smile grew on your face, intrigued by the old style love letter. You read it, all of it, it was so heart warming that you couldn’t help the tears that fell onto your face.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You didn’t know that he felt that way about you, it felt so good to be loved, and needed and cared for. His shower abruptly stopped as you knocked on the door. Hurrying to dry off, he opened the the door, met with a hug. “Connie I’m in love with you too, and I wouldn’t know what to do with myself without you”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ‘Let Me Break Your Heart Again’ by Laufy played on the speakers now.. great timing.

Relief hit Connie as tears brimmed his eyes, he was a thug but thugs cry too.. that was the most gangster thing Connie could have ever done in his life, and it was being vulnerable, vulnerable enough to admit how restless he was every night you were upset at him, every night that you didn’t warm the side of his bed the way you did during sleep overs.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The depths of despair dragged Connie into it’s grasp and forced him to stay there until he figured out why he felt so depressed without you. But it so happened to be the reason in itself.. he was without you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

A passionate kiss filled both of your lips. You wiped his tears away and wiped your own, wet eyelashes looked up at him as you pulled away from him. You both smiled in relief as you smooched his lips. “Baby you got abs? Yea you gettin some tonight” you said before ripping the towel off his abdomen, revealing his pretty pink dick.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It was perfect, and you didn’t know how you were going to take it all in but it didn’t matter because that bitch had no choice but to fit. He lifted you while squeezing your ass, sliding the basket on to the floor, laying you back on the bed. He reached over to his bedside table and picked up the purple condoms you bought for him as a joke that he had saved just for a moment like this and slipped it on himself.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

He deepened the kiss again, untying your robe and throwing it on the floor along side the rest of the organized chaos. “Connie I need you so bad right now” you said, rubbing the small melanated bunch of nerves in between your legs. “Let me do that for you mama” he said, sliding his fingers inside you, “ah” you sighed. You missed the feeling of him pumping inside you like this, walls clenching around his fingers , you smiled as he let them enter your mouth,licking up your own juices made you almost cum right there. His hood lined up perfectly with your entrance, like his cock was made to fit your pretty cunt. He thrusted deeply “Ouue fuck connnn” you moaned, wrapping both legs and arms around him, lapping at his neck like it was candy, everything about him tasted sweet, He thrusted into your pussy slowly at first so you could adjust to his length, then his strokes got rough and aggressive.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

He hit your cervix with every stroke which made you go feral. Lewd slaps and squelches filled the the nearly silent room. “Fuckk this pussy Connieee”, no longer feeling his throbbing dick inside of you, you whined at the emptiness “turn around for me lovey” he whispered in your ear while you turned yourself over, he placed a pillow under your stomach and grabbed a hold of your hips, inserting his cock right where it belonged, he started back his rough pace, slapping your ass as you grabbed the sheets “fuck back” his voice stern, “fuckkk yes baby im-“ He moaned out, grunts occasionally leaving his mouth, flowing into your ears, filling the room, his words seeped through your skin, his touch was intoxicating, you were addicted to his hands and the way your body molded into him perfectly, thinking about his cock digging into the back of your pretty pussy was enough to send you over the edge.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

An orgasm blossomed inside of you, leaving thick trails of your cum on connie’s shaft, “Im cumminggggg” you whispered halfway through pleasure, his thrusts became sloppy and more like jabs, his hips staggered as you felt his them lock in place, his dick twitched inside of you “fuckk baby this pussy so tight” you felt the release of sperm into the condom inside of you, “And who’s is it baby?” he asked grabbing your neck gently kissing your cheek waiting for an answer “ all yours papa” you replied as he smirked at the rightful answer, his lips touched yours, causing you both to fall into a deep kiss that felt like it lasted forever. He left pecks all over your neck and cheeks, feeling that familiar shyness from months ago, you giggled and hid your face into his neck, covering your exposed breasts that were filled with hickeys. “Girl what you tryna hide? Like you didn’t just tell me that this pussy was mine while i was digging you out” he laughed mocking you “Nigga ill never fuck you again stop” you cheesed hiding your eyes while Connie snuck a kiss on your clit before disposing the condom, wiping himself off, then you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Now mostly clothed with connie’s shirt and your pajama shorts, and connie in some sweat pants, you both laid in bed cuddled up, lights off, mess on the floor left for tomorrow. ”That dick was excellent” you said dapping him up “I’m glad you liked it girl” he said kissing you. “Damn you love these lips” - “Which ones?” you playfully shoved him and giggled “You’re officially my boyfriend Connie” you said “But keep this between us, nobody knows what we do but they know that you’re mine.. i like my privacy.. keep these hoes wondering” he nodded and smiled at your remark, cuddling up closer to you, while you shifted some of your attention to the TV which was playing ‘The Craft’, and then back to him. He turned your head to face him fully, looking into those big brown eyes that got him here, he finally answered ,“Yea baby i like the sound of that”….

+*:ꔫ:*﹤ ﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ

*also the video of you and sasha on the slingshot went viral on tik tok which made you gain hella followers that you would be shocked to see in the morning.*

That’s all folks! They’re relationship is the cutest and i hope yall ate good after getting this five parter! If you couldn’t tell, i really fuck wit purple but Lele loves all her babies~𝓁ℯ𝓁ℯ<3

1：42 𝒶𝓂

[the-crimson]

Ok so after writing my observations yesterday on q!bbh’s delusions about the egg photos and reading this post by the wonderful @kadextra I started thinking about the relationship between q!bbh’s self harm and his delusions.

Both are coping methods for the immense pain of losing the eggs and q!bbh’s failure to protect them. Gonna put an early cut cuz I’m gonna be talking about self harm and suicide idealization so if these are triggering topics, take care of urself and read at ur own pace.

There are hundreds of different reasons (often subconscious) why people commit acts of self harm but some of the more common ones are cries for help, externalizing internal pain, and punishing oneself. I think bbh’s self harming tendencies steam from all three, in addition to a general lack of self worth but that is nothing new to mr I popped 25 totems no big deal.

The eggs are bbh’s world and he failed them. When he first fed himself to the vultures, it was only a couple days after the eggs had vanished. Long enough for the hope that they’d return to fade and for the reality of the situation to sink in. They are gone. He failed them.

Bad may have justified it to himself that he was continuing Dapper’s work but deep down he was punishing himself for failing by physically destroying his body in addition to externalizing his internal pain. Now what do I mean by that? Internal/emotional pain can feel irrational and helpless because it’s all inside. Physically hurting oneself gives a person an element of control over their pain and a justification for why everything hurts. It makes it easier to manage even tho this is incredibly dangerous and unhealthy. When life or emotions feel out of control, self harm can feel revolutionary and like you are taking your agency back. Brains are weird.

Bad fed himself to the soul vultures for two weeks before he stopped. At first, he was in their spawning area seemingly collecting soul hearts - even though there was no need because Dapper collected over a stack of them. Then, he moved to Ron’s cell where he allowed the vultures to eat him while Ron watched/listened. In both instances, bbh has a “logical” reason for doing what he’s doing but the moment you think about it for two seconds his reasoning falls apart because the true purpose is self harm. Dapper already collected a bunch of the hearts and there are a million different ways bbh could psychologically torture Ron besides actively hurting himself as well.

All of this is also a desperate cry for help. Bad doesn’t hide the wounds the vultures left and even after he stopped letting them eat him, the wounds continue to get worse. Whatever the vultures did to him/bad did to himself has left a very visible indication that he is deteriorating quickly. Everyone has told him there is something wrong and he doesn’t try to hide it or cover up what has them worried. Bad doesn’t notice because he can’t, because he doesn’t care, because he doesn’t matter. But it is a clear indication to others that something is deeply wrong and he needs help even if he’d be kicking and screaming trying to resist.

Another common reason for self harm occurs when someone has severe depression. Depression isn’t just “I’m sad”. Depression is “I feel nothing”. My mom once described it as literally the world loses its color. When Foolish lit bbh on fire and Bad said something along the lines of thanks I can feel something - it was played as a joke but that is a legit thing. Some people commit acts of self harm just so they feel something. Feeling something is better than nothing. At least then you know ur alive. I can also see this being a factor in bbh’s self harming practices.

What interests me the most is when Bad stops letting the vultures eat him: when he starts indulging in his delusions about the eggs in the photos. He trades one coping method for another.

Instead of externalizing the pain and punishing himself, he enters a fantasy where the pain doesn’t exist because the eggs are right here. He gives himself a moment of respite from the pain so that he has the strength to continue carrying it. But as we saw, this eroded his ability to tell reality from fiction and lead to a full blown dissociative mental break down.

Then what happens a couple days after his break down? We see him once again allowing a vulture to attack him. He’s leading it around like a pet in broad daylight. Yesterday was incredibly triggering for bbh because he was forced to face the dead eggs as well as his eggs that are missing/may wind up dead any moment. If Aypierre hadn’t accidentally triggered bbh’s break a few days ago I definitely think this would have triggered it. Not only talking to the dead eggs but being faced with the possibility that Bad might be digging seven more graves soon would be more than enough to break him.

Bad’s self harm in this instance was a grounding method. To keep him here, in the present. Who knows how long he spent on the church roof preparing himself for visiting the dead eggs. He was literally sitting there trying to stop himself from dissociating because he knew how important it was to keep the egg’s memory alive. He knew how much it meant to Dapper.

The fact that bbh risked everyone finding out about Dapper’s soul vultures just so he could keep himself present enough to visit the eggs is insane. His priorities are so incredibly skewed and we see this in everything he does. He is both completely blind to the consequences of his actions while intensely aware of the spiderweb he’s weaving across the island. He doesn’t care if anything happens to him and fully expects himself to die at some point. He doesn’t care about potentially spilling Dapper’s soul vulture secret because he’s already let the cat out of the bag on scanners. He doesn’t care if Dapper hates him for revealing their secrets. All he cares about is Dapper coming back safe and sound - with or without Bad.

I honestly think a part of Bad wants to die. This whole experience has hurt him so much that I don’t think he thinks there is a way back. Even if the eggs return, his failure remains and all the drastic measures he’s taken can’t be erased. Tragedy follows bbh everywhere he goes. He has painted history with blood. Maybe he thinks dying to save the kids will redeem him in some way. I doubt bbh will actually die or die permanently but the character definitely plans on sacrificing and potentially dying one way or another. All he needs to do is hold out long enough for his plan to come to fruition which means employing what ever coping methods he can to survive his grief, but once it’s done… idk and I don’t think bbh knows either.

Now we’ll just have to see what bbh does next. If he continues self harming with the vultures or indulging in delusions or tries something new and more desperate/dangerous. I trust at the end of all this cc!bbh will give us a happy ending but it’s always darkest before the dawn and I feel like we’ve got a lot of night left.

[kingluffy5]

Playing Detectives Pt 8 (Wednesday x Male Reader)

Finally realizing who the monster truly is, Wednesday and Y/N have to finally end this case once and for all, but after learning his fate is to die by the Hyde’s hands, will Y/N be able to make it out of this final confrontation alive.

I still find it hard to believe, Tyler, really, Tyler is the Hyde. Wednesday found out when she went to go tell him they can’t be a thing but he kissed her and she had a vision. She saw him murder Kinbott, and others. But I can’t believe it’s been him, all along, him. He’s the one who attacked Eugene, Wednesday, Enid, me. God, he’s the one who’s destined to kill me, at least I know I’m safe, no way Tyler’s going to be the one to kill me. But despite the very little threat that he poses to me he still needs to be stopped. Which is what we’re up to now.

Wednesday’s plan is to lure Tyler to a safe quiet place for us to ask him a few questions. While they talk about how he’s totally the Hyde me and the nightshades walk up behind him. I have to say these people are a lot less annoying and useless when they just let me and Wednesday tell them what to do, with some minor suggestions from Bianca.

Bianca uses her siren song to get Tyler in a trance so we can bring him to Xavier’s art shed.

We walk him up after chaining him to a chair.

“Welcome back.” Wednesday greets.

“Where the hell am I?”

“Somewhere where no one can hear your screams.” I reply.

“What’s with the chains?” He asks.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Wednesday tells him.

“Wednesday this is crazy, I’m a normie.”

“That’s only half true. Do you recognize her?” Wends says pointing to a woman in the picture of the Nevermore Fencing Team from a while back. “Perhaps if I hadn’t been so distracted by my own mother hogging this photo, I would’ve noticed yours sooner.”

“Your father fell in love and married an outcast.” I explained to him.

“Fine, my mom was an outcast that doesn’t make me a monster.”

“According to her personal medical records-“

“You stole her medical records?”

“Technically, Thing did. He took them from your garage, your father’s quite the pack rat. Her postpartum depression triggered her condition.”

“My mom had severe bipolar disorder.”

“We all know that’s a lie. She was a Hyde. And your father has been living his life in dread, never really quite sure whether or not she passed her condition on to you.”

“Are you really all just gonna stand there and let them do this to me?” He asked the nightshades.

“I mean, he is our relative.” Gwen said.

“Uh guys? Enid just texted. Thornhill’s suspicious. How much longer until he morphs into that thing?” Ajax asked.

“I’m not the monster.” Tyler insisted.

“You are. I saw it in a vision at the Weathervane.”

“Wait, you’re basing all this off some vision you had after we kissed? I mean is that something you can trust?”

“Hey her visions have never failed us before. By the way super weird that you just randomly kiss my girlfriend after she walks in.” I insult him before my eyes go wide and Wednesday face palms and looks like she’s going to torture me next when we realize what I just said in front of all these people.

“I am so sorry.” I apologize to her before everyone starts freaking out.

“I knew it!” Jason yelled.

“So he really isn’t aroace?” Jack says

“Good job brother.” Jason says again.

“Really?” Jack asks.

“Good job cousin, you got yourself a ten.” Gwen congratulates.

“We’re happy for you two, really, but what are you doing, Wednesday?” Bianca asks as Wends grabs one of her torture devices.

“Just some light torture, don’t worry, I won’t leave a mark.”

“Wednesday, Y/N, hold on.” Bianca says trying to calm us down.

“Wait, you’re serious?” Tyler asks nervously as Wednesday picks up one of her torture devices.

“There’s only one thing a Hyde understands, pain.” She says before going up and electrocuting Tyler.

Everyone starts shouting and they all start to leave. “Y/N, Wednesday, I did not sign up for this. Let’s go to Weems and explain everything.”

“Weems won’t help.” Wednesday says.

“And Tyler here is always one step ahead of his father.” I explain.

“Then you two are on your own.” Bianca says before leaving.

“No, don’t leave me here please.” Tyler begs before we start torturing him again.

— — —

After a while of torture we get back to the questions.

“What is Kinbott, or should I say Laurel Gates, using you for?” Wednesday asks him.

“Wednesday, please.”

“Tyler, the body parts in the basement of the Gates mansion, what was she collecting them for?” I ask.

“Please, I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?” He asks again.

Suddenly we hear police sirens pull up and right when Wends is about to test Tyler’s reflexes with a hammer the Sheriff bursts in with several other cops all with their guns pulled out yelling at us to freeze and stuff.

— — —

After being taken in for questioning Weems and the Sheriff walk in.

“Sheriff Galpin isn’t pressing kidnapping charges. Which is a miracle given the circumstances.”

“Of course not.” Wednesday interrupts. “How long have you known?” She asks the Sheriff.

“Excuse me?” He says.

“When we gave you that claw from the cave, did you already know the truth?” I ask.

“Wednesday, Y/N, that’s enough.” Weems tells us.

“Xavier Thorpe is our Hyde. We’ve got evidence thanks to you. That’s why I’m giving you two one last pass.” He tells us.

“Tyler’s going to turn on you too.” Wednesday tells him before Weems pulls us out of the room.

“W-Wednesday wait.” Tyler calls out to her.

“Tyler! No, no, what are you doing?” The Sheriff asks him.

“I need to talk to her dad, him too.” He says pointing to me, much to my surprise. “They were my friends.” Okay, that’s little much, I honestly considered us more of acquaintances at best. “We’re in a police station. What’s gonna happen?”

The Sheriff looks at us before telling him to make it quick.

“What do you want?” Wednesday asks him as he walks up to us.

“To ask a question. What does it feel like?” He asks.

“What does what feel like?” I ask him annoyed.

“To lose.” He says. That son of a bitch is the Hyde. Wow. Okay this dude needs to be on the other end of one of my swords, well I guess he has already, but he wasn’t on the end of my best one, oh the next time we fight he isn’t making it out of that one, regardless of what Wends vision says. “You know, at first. I’d wake up naked. Covered in blood. No idea what happened. But over time. I started to remember, everything. The sound of their screams, the panic in their eyes, and a fear so primal I could taste it. And it was delicious.” He leans close and says. “You have no idea what’s coming.” Before walking away.

— — —

“The quid pro quo for Sheriff Galpin not pressing charges is your immediate expulsion from Nevermore.”

“Oh please, we all know Tyler’s the Hyde, he just confessed to us in the police station and now expelling us.” I complain.

“Oh not you, Mr. Barron, just Ms. Addams here.” Weems reveals.

“What?” We ask.

“Believe me, if it wasn’t for the suspicion of Ms. Addams manipulating you to follow her own agenda then you would also be expelled immediately but be rest assured Mr. Barron that we will be conducting a full investigation into your part in these plans.” Weems tells us.

“We were partners, I was just as much a part in this as Wednesday was.” I say.

“No she’s right. You and the others were not involved, just tools for me, I didn’t even tell you about my vision of you until a couple of days ago. I truly acted alone.” She says. I know she’s saying this just to protect me and the others, but why. Why would she do that, just throw herself under the bus. She shouldn’t have to do that. Not by herself.

“For someone who claims to have no friends you certainly go out of your way to protect them.”

“They didn’t have the guts to do what needed to be done.”

“You mean kidnapping and torture? I should hope not.”

“You do realize that Tyler brutally disemboweled six people, then harvested a variety of their body parts for good measure.”

“Perhaps if you’d came to me with your suspicions rather than taking things into your own hands then maybe we could’ve worked together.”

“Oh yes, because trust and cooperation have always been hallmarks of our relationship.”

“I admire your ability to be your own person and to trust your own instincts. But also that makes you impatient and impulsive. Your actions put me and the school in an impossible position.”

“Tyler is the Hyde. And he framed Xavier he confessed everything to us!” Wednesday shouts.

“I wish I could believe you.”

“His mother was an outcast, she went here you must remember her.”

“Yes, Francois. A lovely woman. I didn’t ask what she identified as.”

“Then give me more time, and I can prove they are Hydes.”

“There is no more time, and there are no more deals, Wednesday. Pack your steamer trunks. We will have them shipped. And say your goodbyes, you’ll be on the afternoon train tomorrow. And Y/N, I’d prepare your defense for the school board, I don’t think even your family name can save you from expulsion.” Weems tells us. “I’m sorry Nevermore didn’t work out for you two. I’m sure your parents will be very disappointed and so am I.” She tells us.

— — —

Last night me, Wednesday, and Thing went to the jail. Wednesday went to talk to him while me and Thing distracted the guards and made sure she wasn’t seen. After they were done me and Wednesday walked out of the building. And talked about what he said, in his opinion we should just leave and go as far away as we can, only then the prophecy of Nevermore’s destruction can never happen.

We are now in Wednesday’s room. Me and Enid are helping her pack.

“I can’t believe that I’m actually going to miss your creepy, lifeless eyes waking me up in the morning.” Enid says to Wednesday. “It won’t be the same without you.”

“So I assume your moving in with Yoko. Leaving me in the past.” Wednesday says.

“Not ever. What about you, will you forget about me?” Enid asks.

“Enid, the mark you have left on me is indelible. Anytime I grow nauseous at the sight of a rainbow or hear a pop song that makes my ears bleed, I’ll think of you.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“I always believed that relying on other people was a sign of weakness.” She began to tell the both of us. “That inevitably they would lead me to disappointment. Turns out I’ve been a disappointment.” Wednesday says.

“Are you kidding, I’ve learned so much from you. Part of it is admittedly criminal behavior, but most people spend their entire lives pretending to give zero effs when you literally never had an eff to give.” Enid says.

“And together we solved a murder mystery, we are getting expelled before we can actually catch the killer but we know who they are, and that’s what counts.” I say, also trying to comfort her. “Plus, we make a pretty hot couple.” I add, which finally manages to make Wednesday chuckle a little.

“Any chance you’ve got some sneaky plan to allude Weems?” Enid asks us.

“Xavier’s right, this prophecy can’t come true if I’m not here, but it kills me to leave with Tyler still walking around free.” Wends says.

“If he tries anything, we have a school full of gorgons, vampires, and werewolves ready and waiting, and besides, theres’ no way he’s getting past Y/N, we got this Wednesday.” Enid replies.

“Yeah, and I just finished a little pet project I’ve been working on, it’s my counter to Tyler’s Hyde form.” I tell her.

“On a good note, I got a text from Eugene’s moms he woke up last night, maybe Weems will let you drop by on your way to the station.” Enid tells Wends. I haven’t been able to bring myself to go. I visited when he was asleep, but I don’t think I can look him in the eye after he night he got attacked. It was all my fault, if I listened to Wednesday and made sure Eugene stayed back here then Tyler would never have attacked him.

Thing taps and signs to Wednesday. “Think we’re all set.”

“Thing I’m going to miss our make up tutorials and you better keep sending me moisturizing tips.” Enid says. “Stay in touch okay.”

“Thing, it’s been real man.” I tell him, we both fist bump Thing before he crawls into Wednesday’s bag.

“So we’re gonna.” Enid goes up to hug Wends who backs away on reflex. “Your right, not hugging is kind of our thing.”

— — —

Me and Wednesday walk down into the main hall when we are met by the Nightshades, including Bianca, Jack, Jason, Amelia, and Gwen.

“The plan wasn’t to get you expelled, we’re sorry.” Bianca apologizes to Wends.

“The Nightshades need to be ready for what’s to come, or alot of people are going to die.” Wednesday warns them.

“Yeah, you guys are some of the most competent and smart in this building, except for Jason.” I say.

We here running and see Ms. Thornhill coming towards us.

“I’m so glad I caught you. I was weeding my wolfsbane and I completely lost track of time, this is a parting gift.” She says handing Wends a flower.

“White oleander, one of nature’s deadliest.”

“It also symbolizes destiny and renewal, you’re a very talented young woman Wednesday, I can’t wait to see what you do next.”

“Do I get a flower?” I ask, I don’t even want one, I just hate being left out.

“Did you get expelled?” Thornhill asks.

“Not, yet, but I’m sure I will be soon.”

“Wednesday, Y/N.” Weems greets.

“Speak of the devil.” I reply.

“This time I’m personally escorting you to your train.”

“I have one final favor.” Wednesday responds.

— — —

Wednesday asked Weems if she could go visit Eugene. I didn’t go because I still feel so goddamn guilty, and even if I did ask to go I don’t think Weems would trust me and Wednesday around each other. I’m resting in my room right now just thinking, how long will it take for the school board to expel me, when will I get to fight Tyler, will he kill me, when will I be able to unlock my full potential. You see my family have this power in us that makes us stronger but mine is getting blocked for some reason. Has been ever since I was a kid.

Suddenly I hear taps on the door. I go to open it up and I see Thing scurry in. He starts quickly singing to me. He says that Thornhill was really Laurel Gates and that she killed Weems and captured Wednesday.

“Okay, Thing you go tell Enid and the Nightshades about Wednesday, I’ll go find her and stop Laurel and Tyler.” I quickly telling him running to my closet, I pull out two katanas I forged with wind runes on them allowing them to form slashes through the wind.

“All right, time to face my potential death.” I say dreadfully as I race out of the door.

— — —

I run into Crackstone’s Crypt and see Wednesday with lots of blood on her gasping and looking at her hand.

“Wends, are you all right.”

“I’m fine Cara Mia, but Laurel and Tyler revived Crackstone and they’re going to go burn down Nevermore.”

“Well than let’s go, and you’re definitely going to start calling me by that pet name a lot more.” I say pulling her up and starting to run out of the Crypt, she looks grim, probably because I might die soon, maybe even tonight.

As we run through the forest we see a shadow in front of us, he steps forward to reveal himself as Tyler.

“Laurel said you were dead.”

“I’m feeling much better now.” Wednesday says.

“Like a cockroach.”

“Please, flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Yeah, get your own girlfriend jerk.” I taunt.

“This will not end well for you.” Wednesday says to Tyler.

“Go, I’ll deal with him.” I tell her.

“But-”

“Go.” I insist.

She runs off hesitantly as I get into stance with my dual blades ready to face off against Tyler.

“You know, I’ve been looking forward to killing you since I first met you.” He says.

“Funny, I barely thought about you, just the monster, so why don’t you bring him out?”

“You sure you can handle me, I nearly killed you both times, and I nearly killed your roommate, I would’ve too if it wasn’t for you and Wednesday.”

“Yeah, it really was your fault.” I say realizing something.

“Yeah, I admitted to that already.” He says getting confused.

“And my brother, he had his own issues, his death wasn’t my fault either.” I say starting to feel a sudden surge of power flowing through me. Then I suddenly start laughing historically. “Oh god, I can’t believe that you were the one to help me through my mental block. You see, my family’s strength gets increased by our egos, the bigger our god complex, the bigger our power. And I used to feel so shitty about myself that I blocked out my strength, but you just helped me get through my shit and now I feel better about myself than ever, oh god, you are screwed.” I shout to Tyler who looks pissed.

Tyler starts to transform into his Hyde form.

He lunges forward and I do the same.

My blades clash with his claws and we start attempting to slice at each other more and more, faster and faster. We continue this dance for a while, twirling around blocking and slicing, slicing and blocking. Eventually we both jump back, he growls and jumps forward in the air, I laugh and do the same. I make my blades come down into an x slash and he brings his claws down in parallel slashes. As we both land crouching I feel a stabbing pain in my left shoulder, I start gasping, I drop the sword in my right hand and I bring it to my sleeve. I grasp the shredded remains of my sleeve tightly, and I feel nothing inside of it. I look over my shoulder to see my severed arm and sword half way across from me to the Hyde.

The Hyde, Tyler, whatever, looks pleased with himself.

We both rush forward again, even with my increased strength, speed, and endurance this is still a really hard fight. I use my sword to block all his attacks. I kick him in the gut sending him back several steps. With the few seconds I’m given I put my sword into my mouth and grab my other from my detached hand. I start cutting and stabbing with my two swords again. Rage and adrenaline are the only things keeping me going.

He manages to cut me across my forehead, blood drips down into my one working eye nearly blinding me. Everything has turned into a curtain of crimson and I am unable to tell when I actually manage to cut the Hyde, his entire body looks red, cuts and all.

I’m getting slower and weaker, my strikes are missing more and more, those that do hit end up hitting shallower, minor scratches where I once slashed deep cuts. He is able to keep up his pace, most of my strength has been diverted to blocking his claws and teeth. If I were to try anything else then I would surely get hit.

He raises his claw to strike me, I sidestep and stab him in the side, I drag the blade up to worsen the wound, a look of pain and anger flashes across his face. He tries to scratch me again but once again I sidestep and dodge.

He raises to scratch my face again I raise my blades to block, he then uses his other hand and scratches a deep wound across my gut, it hurts like hell, my body is burning and tired. I stumble before my weight becomes to much and my legs buckle, I fall to the ground. I can here the Hyde roar in victory, ha, does that mean I lost, that I’m dying. Sorry Wednesday, Cara Mia, I would have liked to hear that come from you again but it seems like this is the end, huh, I wonder if this is what Wednesday saw, my body bleeding out on the ground as Tyler roars maliciously in the background. My death.

Fuck that.

I push myself up with my fist and put my knees below me. I slide my feet under my knees and push up off the ground. I grab one of my swords, I don’t think I can lift both now, even if one is held in my mouth, it’s too much. I feel the blood fill my mouth, I spit it out on the ground.

“Hey.” I shout, weakly, it’s clear that I’m on my last legs.

The Hyde turns and growls at me, he gets ready to charge.

A large shape jumps out of the forest and grabs onto the Hyde. It’s a werewolf likely one of the other students from Nevermore, huh, that’s weird, the color of some of the fur reminds me of Enid, holy shit.

“Enid.” I shout to her. She turns and smiles at me.

Gun shots ring out near us. I turn and see Sheriff Galpin aiming his gun at the Hyde.

“You look like your about to die Barron, go get yourself cleaned up, me and the wolf have got it from here.” He tells me.

“I’m sorry, about your son.” I say to him.

He gives me a nod before turning back and firing again at the monster who was his son.

I run off, but not to the hospital, to Nevermore, I got to go help Wednesday.

— — —

I run into the quad, which is on fire by the way, to see Wednesday pinned to a table by Crackstone with his staff.

“I will send you back to hell.” He tells her in his gravely voice.

Suddenly he’s stabbed in the back by Bianca. He then hits her sending her flying back.

I run forward and jam my blade through his front. He looks amused at me but then Wednesday takes a broken shard of her blade and stabs him through the heart. Crackstone starts to burn like the many outcasts he once did. He breaths out a black smoke before finally incinerating with a massive wave of heat.

We all nod to each other when we hear a gun getting taken off safety.

Laurel stands before us aiming it at Wednesday.

“You brought a gun to a sword fight, probably the first smart decision you made today.” Wends insults.

“Ha.” I laugh weakly.

“I might not get to kill all the outcasts, but at least I’ll get to kill you, Wednesday.” She says stepping forward.

Then a bee lands on the front of the gun and a whole swarm of them soon follow they surround Laurel who tries to shoot them but fails because of the fact that there are so many of them and they are incredibly small.

“Yeah, that’s what you get for messing with Nevermore.” Eugene says stepping out into the quad revealing himself to be the one controlling the bees, I am so glad I’m his friend and not his enemy. “Bitch.”

“Woah there buddy, ease up on that language.” I chastise stepping forward to rub his hair with my one remaining hand.

“But you’ve said worse before like-”

“We don’t need examples Eugene. Listen though, I’m sorry about the night of the Rav’N, I shouldn’t have taken you out there.

“It wasn’t your fault, I wanted to go, besides if you weren’t there I might’ve died.”

“Thanks man. Why are you here though?”

“Hummers stick together, right?”

Wednesday looks at him almost proudly before all of us go back to looking at Laurel. Curled up on the ground surrounded by the bees. Pathetic.

“I’ll take it from here.” Wednesday says.

“Maybe we should call the Sheriff?” Eugene innocently suggests.

“Turn around Eugene.” I say as Wednesday steps up to Laurel and smashes her foot down onto her head.

“Hey Wends.” I say to her. She turns and looks at me shocked, I guess she is just realizing that I’m standing here, alive, but in horrible condition, right on death’s door. “I love you.”

Everything then goes to black and my body hits the ground.

— — —

I open my eyes to blinding lights and the sounds of people moving around a room hurriedly.

“He’s waking up.”

“Oh my god he’s alive.”

“No way, this is insane.”

“More stuff like that, people being shocked that I’m alive. The people in the room are some of the Nightshades, some police officers, some teachers, most of my family, Eugene, Ajax, Xavier, Bianca, Enid, and Wednesday.

“Why is there so many people in my hospital room?” I ask groggily. I turn to Wends. “How could you let this happen?”

“I tried my hardest, but they insisted.” She replied in that monotone voice that I’ve grown to love so much.

After that it was mostly my family hugging me, Enid crying, Wednesday watching all of this in horror, policemen asking me questions, Eugene questioning how it took me less than half the time to recover when my injuries were more than twice as horrible as his. Most started to file out one by one to give me and Wednesday a moment alone.

“You lost your arm.”

“Does that disappoint you my love?” I ask.

“Considering the alternative was death, I’m rather impressed.”

“That’s all I ever wanted to hear.”

“How did you change your destiny?”

“I don’t know, I thought of how much I love you and how much I hate Tyler and I put that together and forced myself to keep going.” I reply.

That seems to work for her and we enjoy the silent love we have for each other that we didn’t get to experience for so long while we were off playing detectives in a case involving a monster and a dead pilgrim.

— — —

I honestly got out of the fight pretty lucky all things considered, I now have the boosted natural abilities of my family, I only lost an arm and got several scars, but hey better than being dead am I right. Anyway they cut the rest of the semester short after all this bullshit happened so I’ve packed my stuff and gotten ready to go home to my family. There’s just one thing that I got to go and do first.

I walk through the halls with my luggage looking for Wednesday.

I then feel a tap on my shoulder and I turn and see her standing there.

“Hey.” I greet.

“Hi.”

“You excited for the long break.”

“I’m excited for a chance to finish my novel and publish it, self publishing most likely.” She said.

“I’m excited to sleep off these injuries. Plus my parents said I get to have my dream car because of all this happening to us.”

“Really? What kind?”

“Oh that’s a secret until next time we meet.” I say mysteriously.

We reach the front door.

“So I take it Xavier gave you the phone?” I ask.

“Yes, would you like to put your number in it?”

“Are you asking me for my number? Oooh, you have a crush on me.”

“We’re dating.” She says weirded out and annoyed by my antics.

“All right, all right.” I say putting my number in her new phone. “Make sure to save my contact as Cara Mia.” I tease.

“I should never have called you that.” She laments

“Well I guess I’ll see you around, Addams.” I say as a goodbye.

“You too, Barron.”

I then pull her into a hug, which after a second of hesitation she reciprocates, then I kiss her on the forehead and I head down to where we’re getting picked up, and waiting there is the car that my family has to send out to pick all of us up. We each get to have our own row of seats, so I sit in the very back and put on my headphones and start listening to music.

“Despite what you think your journey is not yet close to completion.” A voice says, crystal clear despite the headphones. I turn towards it and the voice appears to come from a reflection of me only they’re wearing clothes from the 1600s.

“What the hell.” I say.

“You, Y/N Barron, have the potential to be the greatest outcast history has ever seen and the potential to be the one to lead the entire population of outcasts into salvation or purgatory, it is all based on the actions that you may soon make.”

And just like that old timey me disappears and I’m still left with more questions than answers.

Great, just great.

AN: So Playing Detectives is now completed until season two comes out, I am making a Stranger Things fanfic with a bunch of OCs which you can check the castings for on my page, I posted that earlier. Please keep a look out for it and thanks for the support for this fanfiction, I’ll likely return once season two is released. Until then I got Stranger Things to keep me busy. So have fun my fellow geeks and nerds and peace out.

[blindrapture]

SUNDAY JULY 10TH, 2011 (Family Expression)

a voice speaks to me

3:34 AM Dreamed of Musicians waiting for me at my hou Bones. Yeah. Bones. That’s what I dreamed of. ..I’m gonna go take a walk.

3:40 AM Donnie woke up and came with me. Mister Brown was already awake, in the kitchen. So he came along too. Yeah, let’s all take this fucking walk.

3:42 AM donnie "Jordan, where are we going?" I just want to see. "See what?" I just want to see. You don't have to come. "I'm coming to make sure you're okay." It doesn't matter. I'm fine. Maybe not. Just, please. Let me drive.

3:58 AM Such a silent ride we had. There was once a time that I could always expect a few cars around here at this time of night. I mean. It's the apocalypse. This is one of the most.. standard things to expect. I guess that's not the real issue. I just. I had been hoping to get to be here again. This has been the worst year of my life, I was taken away from it all, from it all. I wasn't a popular child, I was told by teachers I'd have to wait for high school or later before I came into my own, one teacher even told me I'd have an uphill struggle into my 30s, and I took all that as promises, good news, something to hope for. And I did, actually, start to.. get friends in high school. I had great friends. I had a best friend. And then we had to go back. And my parents made that process even worse than it had to be. I guess I didn't make it easier. I'm a dumb fucking teenager. I know this. But I don't think they even realized just how severely isolated I became. And. Anyway. So I'm here now. By chance? By my own desire? I don't know why the Musicians sent us here. And all that's left is... this. I think I'd have been better off not seeing my home in this state.

4:03 AM I have so many memories of this neighbourhood. The stone sign at the top where I’d wait for the bus in the mornings. The road from the sign and down, which I’d walk every afternoon. This brown house here, where we lived in when I was six. The house next door. Black mailbox, sign below it reading “75.”| Driveway curved so far upwards it’s a safety hazard. Wooden steps leading up to the stone path. Stone path leading to the stone steps. The front door.

4:10 AM …oh. Brown and Donnie are just watching me. Have been all this time. How long have I been here, just looking at this front door? brown "A while. If it's all the same to you, I'm just gonna take a look around the neighborhood. I don't need to see a kid get this depressed." And off he goes. Donnie wants to hold my hand. But I just want to write. I know this front door, this general area, so well. Good memories and bad. There’s the memories of long days at school bringing me here with relief. Then there's the memories of sleeping in school because it's at least peaceful there. My grades dropping. And all the memories of my computer, my room. The stories I'd write for a fanbase. Then everyone grew up and found friends, and I just continued writing my stories for myself, putting my enthusiasm somewhere, hundreds of thousands of words uploaded to the internet that only I even read. Because I was left alone. Always alone. This sucks. This sucks, why are we here? Why did I bring us here? hand squeeze

4:14 AM …"We don't have to go inside." You're right. We don't. "We came to America not out of an active desire, but just out of reaction, we had to get out of England." Yeah. "We don't have to see this." We don't. ...the door opened by itself.

4:15 AM Foyer. Screaming, shouting, barking, ultimatums, threats. Living room. Fights, fists, knees, kicks, punches, flipping over chairs, rugburn on my neck… knife in my ear… Stairs. Suited men lead me up. Donnie's saying something but I can't hear.

4:22 AM My bedroom. Nothing's left here, no furniture, no computer, no video games, no silly posters on the yellow walls. I have nothing to remember my childhood by. "This is where your mind was forged." Yes. "This is the bedrock on which your adulthood will stand." If we make it that far. "It's an empty room." Just a lot of memories. "You came to this country to get away from threats you didn't understand." I was such an idiot. "You are sixteen, and you have no future, and you are wasting your present." Yeah… "You don't even write about your memories in your journals. You talk more about the music that kept you alive in England." That's the sickest part, isn't it? That's the part that guts me. I'm going to die here, and everything I wanted from my life is gone, and the apocalypse didn't even affect that. Who I am will be forgotten, even in my own mind. "Lie down, White Jester. Lie down and wait for landslide." Wait for landslide... wait for the earth to swallow me whole… "Do you want to see?"

(Attached: “Jordan sleeps here for a very long time. I'm assuming we all know the dynamics of abuse, yes? The things it does to your brain. The judgement that comes from within, internalization of a flaming pressure. The Fears know. They are born from those fires, they feast on the colors our stressed thoughts make. They're not all that supernatural; they're what happens when humans take stories seriously. Those words which we all share, the power in a Name... this is a family expression to us.“)

[PREV LOG] [TABLE OF CONTENTS] [NEXT LOG]

[scrybe-of-death]

GOOD…UH…4 AM TO YOU

I HAVE THOUGHTS

TIME TO SCREAM THEM

So, uh, guess who made a scene continuation/extension for “Sun-abstraction bad ending”

Would you like to hear it

-

SHWHSJCKSJSJDIDJSJJD ALL THE SHIPS WITH MY CHARACTERS ARE BEING REALLY CUTE RN *SOBS* I CANNOT I CANNOT

-

One of these days I really need to make a color key for my text colors. Because I actually put a lot of thought into those. For example, all the new characters/“the dnd people” have a secondary color in common once they end up in the circus, but their primary color remains consistent with what it was beforehand. Or how dusk’s domain all have bolded regular text. Witches all have bold chat font. Kit’s voice will turn orange depending on how much she’s in control/how “human” she is. Etc.

-

TW: depresso espresso, like Easton levels of depresso espresso

….So I made a character. Again q.q

The Depths has been wanting for an “avatar” for a while. Almost every other major area either has its personification or is populated with them. Compass and the manor have Northeast. Candleton is populated, but also has Alpenglow and Ciapollo (yeah I made up that ship name on the spot). The lake doesn’t, but we’ve seen the lake less than the Depths. I was apprehensive to try and make one because Alpenglow kind of took on that role for a while, but I decided to heck it and made this guy anyways. It also gives me an excuse to ramble about just what the depths is supposed to be.

So, as evidenced by how blue it all is, the depths start out as the manifestation of Easton’s…problems. Depression on hypothermia-filled steroids. It was supposed to be a minor “hey, uhhhhhhhh so what happened to these two was really serious and here’s a very tangible demonstration of that” for Sun. That begs the question on whether Northa has her own part of the woods, but that’ll come later.

Anyways, that’s nice and all, but then Alpenglow showed up.

She ended up permanently changing how I made the depths function, because her abandonment problems made it so that she’d be most vulnerable to something that claimed to love her. But for something to claim to love her, it’d need to be at least on a basic level of sentience. So I made the depths just a lil bit alive and moved on.

WELP NOW IT’S A LOT A BIT ALIVE

Meet…Ah, well, I don’t have a name for him yet.

I’ll just call him A.

A is what happens whenever a child personifies the woods so much that Dusk’s domain’s rules and mechanics allow it to create itself a personification. A is a manifestation and metaphor of…the freaking suicide woods, but Alpenglow’s “the depths loves me” greatly changed his personality, from presumably being something similar to Mix at his lowest to something more along the lines of Easton but very lonely and more hyperactive. He absolutely adores talking to people, and will actively help people through the woods with his lantern. He’s honestly just a sweetheart, but probably has severe problems because he is also THE SUICIDE WOODS so that’s probably not fun on his mental health, eh?

Also he gets a scarf. Aww.

-

Northa’s part of the woods also exists! It makes you feel incredibly small and helpless, and will generally recreate the feeling of being a lost child in a world that hates you. If there is a place of safety from this, it’s probably a similar “sugar-covered trap” to the blue depths’ “just give up and go to sleep”. Does it have an avatar? Probably. Would its avatar and that of the depths be a ship? Knowing me? Probably.

-

Yeah that’s it no I’m not gonna ramble about the personification of mental illness or what happened to that dnd group except to say that even with the lore dump you do not know the full story of what happened….

BYE-YA

I got so much out of this but for some reason my brain is fixating on how dusk's domain has a personified aokigahara. WHAT.

[merv606]

Ok, latest installment of Mercy.

“He’s not Terry’s prisoner - he never was.”

Cool, so’s he free to leave then? … That’s what I thought…My god the Cog Diss in this guy is truly astounding.

“Maybe if he pushes Terry far enough the older man will finish off the job he started that night at Stingray’s apartment. Maybe this time he’ll go too far and…”

Oh, Daniel… the decline in his mental health… I’m wondering if either the doctor or nurse has or will suggest anti-depressants for him. I imagine, given their profession, they’re seeing what Terry isn’t (or what he’s choosing to see as something else), no matter how much Terry is paying them to look the other way.

“I gave you freedom… Daniel makes a show of moving his leg, the restraint stopping him from moving it too far.”

God, I can actually see him doing this, no change in expression… LOVE the sass in this man. 😆

“So Daniel gets the pills.”

That worries me, too - roughly how long has he been held captive at this point? How long as he been kept drugged and/or sedated? That has to have an effect on his health.

The ring… Kinda saw it coming, kinda didn’t … “Couldn’t be salvaged” my ass. You know Terry did that on purpose! The fact that he actually gave him the broken pieces… I half expected he was gonna wrestle it from a screaming and crying Daniel or make him give it up. Somehow this is worse, and perfectly inline with Terry.

Terry just takes what he wants then lies about whos whys and hows. To himself and his victim.

I am a little surprised he bothered to give it back, what was this thought process on that?

And it’s just like Terry’s brain to immediately turn to images of Daniel blowing him, *right after* showing him his destroyed ring.

Then he’s like, “Well Daniel’s in a mood today.”

????

This guy has zero empathy and is totally off his rocker.

I can only imagine how Daniel is going to react when he’s forced to sign the divorce papers… and I have no doubt Terry will make Daniel sign them (as opposed to forging them), as a way to drive home the situation and convince himself that, in the act of signing (no matter that it’s under duress), that Daniel is somehow complicit in all this. That they’re taking this journey “together.”

“He would’ve do this for anyone after all.” Which is probably why Daniel is wishing he was anyone else right about now.

“Moldova”… I think our reaction was pretty much the same as Daniel’s. Shit, Terry wasn’t kidding when he said they really will never find him… not that we thought he was, but…

And when Terry actually thinks Daniel is squeezing his hand out of affection instead of horror and panic…

🤮

“Sometimes we have to break the things we love to build them back up stronger than before.”

Holy Hell, this man just DOES NOT see what he doesn’t want to see.

“Right now, he gives into fear and it breaks his heart but all he wants is the reprieve the blankness brings.”

Baby, our hearts have broken right along with yours.

I need to gather this man into my arms and take him straight back to Chozen while slapping Amanda and Johnny upside the head on the way. Chozen will be in touch with them about visitation rights.

I AM DYING FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER!!!!!

👆🏻

Terry isn’t really living in reality and, by necessity, to some degree, neither is Daniel.

Thanks so much - I hope the next chapter and all that come after keep delivering.

Even in death, he’s afraid of disappointing Miyagi and not living up to his memory and teachings.

[meanderingthoughtsofthewretched]

Been a while. Thought I could keep up with this, but quickly realized that was not gonna happen.

I don’t even know why I’m typing here, no one’s gonna read this. Screaming into the void I guess.

Been real down recently, I say as if it hasn’t been the same for the past,,, years.

Tomorrow, or rather today I guess is supposed to be happy. I *should* be feeling better.

I finally applied for a job, but haven’t heard back in a while so I probably didn’t get it.

I actually managed to get over my fear of fucking everything up and emailed a professor to talk about grad school. I’m so scared.

School was my strong suit, what made me ‘special’ amongst my siblings, but now,,, I’ve nearly been out of college longer than I was in it. I can feel how disappointed my dad is. I’m doing my best to hold together but I know he thinks I’m a failure. My sisters are doing so much better than I am.

I recently babysat my nephew and it feels like my older sister has her life figured out. Had a good job, married, bought a house, has a kid, and I feel the pressure to walk in her shoes. She went from college to a job so fast and I just,,, stagnated. Everything was looking so bringing in college but I had another person tied to my ankles pulling me down the entire time.

I wish I never met her to be honest. I fucking hate her. Everything I complain about in my life I can directly tie to her.

Can’t drive? Well your parents didn’t want to teach you with her here because then she would be on the insurance while practicing. Because your sister wanted to sabotage you because she didn’t like her, she convinced your parents that she would fuck everything up, and so you don’t get to go to driving school. What’s that? You need to know that to do basically anything? And you’re already horribly anxious about being behind and scared of driving in general? Ehhhh you’re *fineeee* get in that big metal machine and go!!

Falling behind socially and educationally? Well she did cling to you and got mad whenever you went anywhere without her, also driving home a fear of being alone outside even during the day. Whenever you wanted to see friends you had to take her along with you, and if she picked a fight with your friends then you can’t see them anymore. After school clubs? Not without her! If she doesn’t want to go outside, then neither can you! What’s that? Now you have nothing for a resume, which makes getting into grad school a lot harder? Sucks to suck! You offered to take care of her for the rest of your life when you extended a hand to her in a time of need, didn’t you know that? That you would be responsible for her actions even though you have no control of her and she’s literally a completely independent person? Comes with it and you should have known better.

Having to rekindle all familial relationships? Well she did do her best to drive a wedge in between you and everyone in your family. If they didn’t immediately like her then they were evil narcissists, all of them, and she was only trying to help you, you poor thing, you didn’t even know any better, and she knew best! Doesn’t matter that before she got there and after she left things were quiet and calm and people were communicating just fine, the horrible *horrible* years of everyone acting terrible in response to her actions were because they were simply all evil, and if you try to defend them in the slightest, that makes you evil too.

And she tried so hard to convince you to love her, knowing that you never felt a thing toward her but compassion and pity. You were friends! But she wanted you to be her knight in shining armor saving her and living happy every after. But to do that you have to have an enemy to fight, so that made anyone a target. And you have to defend her constantly, because if you don’t she threatens suicide, constantly letting you know how depressed she is, and how if you were to ever leave she doesn’t know how she could live without you. So sacrifice everything, know only her, and force yourself to be content because that’s the best you’re gonna get.

So it’s only natural that when you finally go separate ways, the biggest emotion was relief. You no longer have to shoulder her emotions on top of yours. You’re free.,,, at least until you’re strapped to your little sister and have to be in charge of her now.

Reminders of her are everywhere, though. From your cookware, to the way you cut everything small because her precious and precocious stomach couldn’t handle literally any vegetables unless disguised or too small to pick out, to the decorative objects that you kept that were also useful, to anyone taking about their mental state because you had to constantly be aware of hers, because if you weren’t she would take it out on you one way or another.

I didn’t even wish her a happy birthday this year. It’s so funny that no one else did either. I hope she continues to be lonely, because anytime someone conflicts with her worldview she pushed them out of her life. I wonder if the yahoos will remember my birthday. It makes me laugh (because if I don’t I will certainly cry) that all it took, after years of her looming over me, to get her to willingly leave, was to put my foot down over my birthday. She couldn’t get over her discomfort for even an hour to come by and hang out, and when I got upset, she pulled away. I forced myself to abandon things that made me happy, literally dreading coming home because of the horrid atmosphere that she created, for *years* and she couldn’t manage an hour. Not even five minutes really.

And when she saw me later she was needlessly antagonistic, defensive, and sharp. We were gathered to play a game, and like always she was competitive to the point where she got pissed off and I started to get that pull at my stomach again, that fear that she was gonna explode. I wasn’t even playing. The others were competitive sure, but there was no edge of anger to it. The others can lose with grace, but not her. She laughs it off but I recognize the setting of her jaw and the look in her eyes. I can laugh now, because reasonably, all she could have done was kill the vibe and I could leave. Thankfully I think she doesn’t have that power over me anymore. She’s never tried to reach out to me, and I kinda hope it stays that way.

It’s late. Yet another night of pointlessly staying up thinking of time long past. At least it’s out of my head now.

[neculacycle]

Cane-Reaping Sword

One crippling morning an old man hobbled from the city outskirts and up the grey mountain where a mist lingered thick and waxed with dawn. Folk gathered, laughed, delighted to spoil his fun. Young men, muscles corded and ready for war, bragged with travelling foot soldiers that they could reach the mountain peak, if such mad notions took them. They knew who lived on the mountain and what folly even great men in their prime had met in pursuit of lofty dreams to claim a weapon from heaven’s smith. All men, at some point, dream of being the strongest, and in that land the one on the mountain denied that dream to those willing to strive hardest.

What madness, they said. Does that old farmer need a sword? Maybe he’s rushing headlong toward a dream he’s had since childhood?

Rare in those days but not unheard of, men world over came to the base of the mountain to test their mettle against the warrior’s path. Though that town rested in the mountain’s shadow few dared climb to its jagged peak where the light of the forge had not been seen in many years. Even the King, who had come to power by sheer might and violence, shunned the mountain though secretly coveted its treasure. He thought, A man with enough ambition and men might drag that thing in chains down the mountain.

But such thoughts sent shivers through his soul.

Now a towering man stepped from the onlookers. He was bald like a monk and wore thick robes. He wagged a thick finger at the mockers.

Hopeless times when not a single strong man here offers to help this old timer up the mountain, whatever his reasons. Is that the case?

The onlookers, especially the proud young men, spat and cursed and insulted the monk under their breath. He’s crazy, they said and turned their backs.

Hmf, said the monk, taking the old man’s arm. Come along, master. All good roads are worth sharing.

Hmm? Are you from around here? Do you know what’s at the top?

The monk grinned. I’ve heard rumours. But he can’t be as inhospitable as these people, tee hee!

~~~

Frost screamed agony against the old man’s skin. His walking stick stuck in the ice and snapped. His lungs burst with each breath but he pressed onward, along the winding ‘warrior’s path’, as it had been called since ancient times. The brittle road, no more than a four foot wide depression in the mountain, a channel which streams ran down in the spring thaw, filled up to the man’s knees with snow. Underfoot he tripped on frozen shapes; some stones, some the huddled remains whose strength failed before the top. The monk took him onto his back and trudged upward, undaunted.

No reason to quit! We’ll die here, or die above. Our futures are clear in my mind.

They stopped beneath a stone overhang, sheltered from the wind but not the cold. There was no wood to make fire and the old man shivered horribly. The monk gave him his cloak.

Hey, old man. It’s obvious we’re climbing the mountain for different reasons, unless I’m mistaken.

The old man said nothing. He was looking out over the clouds. The monk sipped from a flask.

I meant it when I said this is a road worth walking together. But when we reach the top, if the mountain smith only bend’s to one of us, that’s gonna have to be me. You can understand what I’ve given up to be here. Maybe you’ve had this dream longer than me, living right at the foot of the mountain your whole life. I can’t say why you’d suddenly go on the journey toward the end of your years. But I guess I felt inspired and want to see you reach the top.

I don’t have any dream, said the old man. I must do this, the same as anything in my life. No offense, but a man like you, with such big goals, doesn’t seem like a monk to me.

Obisu laughed. Well, you got me. I guess I don’t care about the appearance of being a monk but I walk a straight path to the top. What appearance do you think he took on?

Obisu meant the cross legged corpse frozen against the stone, their silent guest.

A fool, said the old man. Who didn’t believe the stories. Perhaps I’ll be no better in the end. A god of the forge lived within the grim mountain. Even in past times, folk did not pray to this god but revered him and sought to avoid his sight, as he was known only to bring malady and strange misfortune. None could say who his forge fired for and none could claim to have seen his work. In the sharpest winters, like this one, the mouth of his cave glowed. Now he is forgotten and soon will fade from the world and be replaced by another.

You missed your calling. You could be a storyteller.

When it was time to leave Obisu offered his back to the old man but the huddled fellow went on ahead. A blue skinned, snarling ogre stepped into their path, with heavy manacles around his wrists. He stamped his feet and held out a palm. Stop!

Obisu bowed. Do you work for the smith?

He forged me these manacles, said the ogre. So perhaps I should work for him.

Explains some of these bodies. How many make it past you?

A few when I sleep or through some trickery. I know who the smith will want to see. The old man may pass. You should turn back.

You're one to mention tricks. It's obvious the smith lets no one through. I won't fight until I see violence.

That is ideal. Where no violence begins conflict is useless. Come alone, old timer.

The old man passed by the ogre without trouble as if it were a pampered doorman. Obisu made to follow but the ogre held out an arm. Not you.

The monk ducked beneath it and found jagged nails digging into his elbow. He loosed a dagger against the fiend but the blade broke apart. The ogre opened its mouth to bite off Obisu’s head but with a lunge the monk hugged the ogre’s massive chest and pushed him over the mountain side. He tumbled and burst many times against the stones, leaving a red trail behind him. The wind picked up. Obisu wiped his eyes but the way ahead was lost to whiteness. His companion was gone. Hey, old timer! Wait up! He staggered on, determined to not be last.

The old man collapsed into the cave, a lonely chamber that no light shown from in years. He crawled, dragging himself along by handholds, stones and fallen warriors, stiff as statues. Some wore heavy armor, others silken pants tied at the waist. They all lay together in a patchwork, pristine in death. The old man’s frostbitten hands, rough from years of battle, and even more years of hard labor, felt nothing as they snapped and burst with the strain. At the precipice of a great obsidian wall he looked up. It was the anvil, too smooth to get purchase on, too tall to hoist himself up by.

He collapsed in time to see a man standing hunched at the cave mouth. It was Obisu, stepping gingerly over the bodies. Should have let me help, he said. This place is evil. I see corpses but no tools besides that terrible anvil. You don’t think he already left, do you?

Obisu stood at the anvil and waved his arms in strange, see-saw motions above his head. In the silence the old man half hoped the god was already passed on but his spine tingled and he knew himself to be a fool.

The god churned endlessly in darkness and succumbed. Above the mountain a flying meadowlark caught fire while whistles and relays telegraphed through space. When not unknowable the god was only what it needed to be. For he who made contact it was eyes when it needed to see, ears when it needed to hear, a mouth when it spoke, for a mortal could never know its totality.

Obisu, holding out his arms, said, Why not fade with an act of honour? Surely you can understand fate saved the worthy one for last?

Hmm? See my handiwork? How many spears do you count along the walls? This place...is a tomb. I forge in mockery of men’s hands, not in service to them.

An antique accent, like the old man’s grandmother, kind yet firm, the stoicism of harsher times. The old man closed his eyes to a deeper black and the cat god spoke.

I am the King of all martial, men said. I am the King of Battle and Hell. Forge me a King of Blades. When I refused they charged forth like scolded children. I have never known pity. None pray to me or dare invoke my name, for I hate the world below this mountain. But when you were born I touched you with my hatred so you would struggle and strain. Was there a legend in your land? Something like, Only the last shall know the first?

It’s one of our oldest and the gods must follow the old legends, however wicked their hearts, said the monk, and Omiru revealed himself. Hir robes fell away, revealing polished black armour which had been concealed by some illusion. A pointed helm sat on his head and jutting out were the King’s distinctive moustaches. This was the foreigner who had taken the throne in a coup, King Sigfried, the black knight. He pulled a jewelled broadsword from its sheath, its hilt jagged falcon’s wings.

I’ll kill you and really will be the last, said the sorcerer-king, holding the blade to the old man’s throat. The feline rose up. All of it, eyes, mouth, ears, body. The old man shut his eyes, unable to look upon the terrible form but Siegfried beheld it and his moustaches drooped and he screamed and held his sword out in both arms like it were new to him. The air left the room and with it the light, as if the cave had been blocked. The old man saw flashes, claws red with streaming blood slashing, metal, or something more fantastic, sparking from an arcing sword. A man’s voice cried strange words and purple nebula’s burst in the old man’s brain and with a great hiss all fell silent. The shadows receded and two clawed animal hands dragged a man’s remains into the dark. Then the mouth formed.

So much for the King and his legends. Where he’s from they pull swords from the earth every day. And you bear the marks of a footsoldier. I would curse the soul of he who struggled up the mountain. Why did you never come to me before?

The fanged mouth faded. Two slit eyes opened briefly and faded amidst tufted ears.

They pressed me into a miserable war, said the old man. There was no meaning to it and I lived. I’ll die next summer, whatever changes may come, and there will be no meaning to it. My son was pressed into a miserable war and I’m alone.

The tufted ears lingered and became a mouth. Men seek me for tools of war and what you receive would reflect that.

Aye, but you are our only god, terrible feline. A great lone smith in the dark of the mountain.

But where is your hatred? Where is the arrogance in your ridiculous request?

The old man opened his shirt, showing his bare chest. The cat laughed. Know this: I am fading from the memory of this world, in my own turn. And so my last act will be my first and only gift to one below the mountain. We desire. The world turns. As with man, as with god. Return here in seven days. Seven days. Be off. Go now.

When he returned in seven days the god came down from his place in the shadows of the cave. The old man’s arms swayed in a rhythm, that of solar flares bursting from a dying sun. Stars fell, though the old man could see none of them, or his story-made-steel. It spiralled and bounced off the stone floor. A nebula closed off and the cave froze over.

That, said the god, the space between its words howling, is a cane-reaping sword. It will cut with just a little skill and no effort.

I thank you, said the old man and took the sword and found it was a study thing to lean on descending the path.

We desire, said the cat. The world turns. As with man, as with god.

He hobbled to his farm and amidst his tall cane stalks drew the sword. Walking toward the cane he held out the sword and without a swing of his arm the cane fell. Men laughed and gossiped about who went out in the morning with a sword to attack his sugar cane. But he was happy all the while.

But the season ended and the old man weakened so even the sword could not fell that cane, for he could not raise it. True to its word the feline was no god of the harvest. The cane-reaping sword could reap and little else and it was still the old man’s work that killed him in the end. He thought, I prevailed where no man has before but I was still his fool in the end. At least I had no illusions.

His time had come and with no family and no one to even remember him he lay back in his chair in his hut and rested and each time he rested he did not know if he might rise again and that was how things were for a while. The sword sat against the wall in its corner and he sat in his chair.

As the old man reclined he dreamed of shanty seas, of curious clouds and fading faces, of the patter of children, of the cold of winter, of the darkness of mountains, of the turning of years. Only a knock roused him from what would be his loosening dream, a knock, persistent and strong, the knock of a young hand. The old man stood with great effort to answer the door. He crept across his old floor and, still half in the dream, he opened the door and slipped to the floor.

Old man! said Necula and rushed to his knees. Old man! Are you alright? But try as he might the old man was gone. Necula looked back through the door. This hut was far from anywhere. The smoke of a distant village rolled on through the grey afternoon and beyond that loomed a city wall. The city had been locked down, as if they were expecting a siege but the countryside was quiet. It did not seem well in the city so the boy moved on. Now he was starving and desperate.

Necula took the old man into his arms and carried him to a straw bed, as the hut was only the one room and laying him down Necula went to the chair and cradled his head in his hands. The miles he’d walked, he thought he’d be the one to die as he stepped through the door. He’d resorted to begging. Sometimes this worked and sometimes he was driven away. It mattered little. His trek would be endless, without direction.

Necula slept in the chair. When he awoke he walked to the village to tell someone of the old man but they drove him away with sticks and tossed stones and he retreated to the hut. He wrapped the old man in linen and buried him near the hut, beneath a tree and returned to the hut to think. The old man had some cheese and bread and Necula ate that. The hut felt cold, colder than the outside, colder than the mountain winds. He thought, Those bastards from that village will come here and think I murdered the old man, so I’d better be going. He sat in the old man’s chair, slumped to the side, a leg lazily spread out, another bent, and his temple perched against his knuckles, like he was some arrogant King. He sat and pondered and felt sorry for himself. His eyes darted to the floor when a black thing slipped out from somewhere and wandered about the hut.

Hungry, you old cat? asked Necula and the cat seemed to agree. Necula stood and went to the kitchen and though there’d been no food there before his pity for the rickety cat seemed to conjure some up and he gave the cat thin milk and crumbs. The cat drank and ate and it was very weary and aged. Necula watched it and then lay on the floor and drew his knees to his chest and weeped at last and the cat slept near him.

Necula had cried himself to sleep and when he awoke the old cat had passed on as well, just as the old man had, and Necula buried it too and went back inside and thought, Now I am truly alone. I feel it in this place. He caught sight of something in the corner, which he realised he’d thought was a broom or a rake in his peripheral vision. But, taking it in his hands, he thought, Oh, well, this is a sword, I think.

He drew it out and the blade shined, very new, if not simple. The sword was without flourish, a stick, really, without decoration or cross guard.

Must be from some old war, said Necula. He took care of it.

He sheathed it and thought, I’ll take this with me. I’ve never swung a sword but I’d feel better wandering with it than without it. Besides, it seems a strange thing to leave in a place so lonely.

[romanekov]

I am upset

I need to write here today, after a long time. I am upset. I am sad. Frustrated.  I try to tell myself these things : your perspective is wrong, you need more mental flexibility, something you preach on social media. You need to take more action, to complain less. To stop victimising yourself. To stop being on constant survival mode. To stop feeling unsafe.

I look back and I know I’ve been worse. Way worse. Dysregulated, depressed. Today I just want to scream “I wish life could stop fucking  with me for more than a few weeks”. In that house away from everything I felt relaxed. But I can’t control events. I can’t control your health as much as I want. I can’t deal with uncertainty. I can’t deal with the unknown, the anguish wait, the pain that pierces my heart every time I think about you.

I think about you and I don’t know what to do. You are an extent of myself. I don’t have a normal response regarding your health because I convinced myself along the way, after 10 years, that we were inseparable souls. I am never at my best, constantly in fear that something bad is gonna happen to this part of me that loves me unconditionally, that beautiful, sweet, funny, loving, cuddly, soft, part of me that I love to kiss million times. It’s so painful. I can not think or relax or digest or sleep properly. My hypervigilance is connected to you. I’m not feeling alive but not dead. But if you are not here anymore, I am feeling dead, nothing else. My hypervigilance, my cortisol gets me going.

Not my pride, not my confidence, not my dreams. I am a mess and want to rush everything to feel safe. I am tired of never feeling safe. I am tired of never feeling balanced.

Of course, right now, especially these past few days, I haven’t been feeling safe at all and very anxious because a lot happened. I tried to relax twice and it worked. I need to keep pushing this part of me. It’s so easy to slip into these negative emotions and thoughts. It’s so easy to tell myself I am not gonna make it. But I have to fight. I know that is the only way to finally calm down the raging fire inside my stomach, the pain I feel in my throat. It’s all self inflicted. It is not myself not the rest of the world’s fault if I love you in such unhealthy ways. 

I wish I could be leaving everything behind. To have no one and nothing to worry about. To be free. I wish I could just go away and never come back. But it does not work like that. I have an avoidant personality disorder and I am fighting to get the life I was supposed to have back.

I am going back to school, I am confronting my mistakes, I am apologising, I am acknowledging. But I am still a mess. Tonight I need to meditate.

[tangobullets]

No like specifically groups that get laughed at? A lot? Or artists that are deemed twee and are criticized for their lyrics being “simple”

Or are criticized because their songs became too popular or “normal” in comparison to true punk while also not being able to be considered actually pop.

Like…

Good Charlotte was just a group of dudes who really fucking hated their dad for abandoning them, struggled with alcoholism at an early age, depression and poverty while being religious and told to believe in a higher power. So they wrote music about it, about the people who only worsened their struggles. They could have been all dark and moody and depressing but instead they made catchy songs to bop to with deeper messages.

Yeah Avril Lavigne is most popular for Sk8er Boi and Girlfriend but most of the songs on her early albums dealt with struggling with depression and self worth issues and rejection. Again yeah maybe not a lyrical genius but you could tell she sang from the heart.

Simple Plan sang about the struggles of growing up and trying to fit in.

Sum 41 sang about how overwhelming life is at times, about how people in politics don’t care and about how you can be your own worst enemy.

But because they’re not the deepest lyrics or because they got “popular” they’re all easily swept under the rug musically, when really they gave a voice to a lot of teens that needed something to scream along to.

Sorry that they’re not spinning fucking sonnets but they captured the atmosphere of the newly-post-9/11 kids who were just realizing the world is a fucking mess, the latchkey kids whose parents were never home, the AOL IM away message era where you needed the song to fit your mood. They provided a lot of refuge to kids who needed it!

No one is asking you to like them or think their music is good, but it’s silly to dismiss their impact just because you deem them “bad”.

Music is allowed to be anything it wants to be, man. I’m not saying anyone needs to listen to these kinds of groups, I feel like you had to be there for them to really resonate, but if they come on in the car I’m not gonna skip them. Doesn’t make my taste in music Bad suddenly. Damn.

I think people who were teens in the early 2000's that don't like pop punk music just didn't have enough angst to scream about in a fun way as a kid

[andreafmn]

Speak - Chapter 3

Word Count: 3K

Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Twilight, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Stephanie Meyer and Summit Entertainment. The only thing I own is Swan Reader insert, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 3/?

A/N: oh oh, Paul seems to be sneaking into (Y/N)'s thoughts... Also changed up the story to third person POV, cause I couldn't continue in first. 😅

If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories. You can request at any time any story or one-shot you desire. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 3

For the past couple of days, a smile had been plastered on (Y/N)’s face. The nightly phone calls with Jake had started growing longer, even though they didn’t have much more to talk about. But his voice was a comforting embrace during Bella’s tortured screams. As time passed, the girl just seemed to get worse.

As Christmas day finally approached, Charlie and (Y/N) thought she’d be happier. At least just a bit better. It had always been a cheery holiday regardless of their familial situation. Renée made sure that the girls woke up to presents under the tree and spare cookies “Santa” had left behind. Even if Bella never said she liked the theatrics of it all, (Y/N) could tell she enjoyed the thought that went into it. Those were moments the younger Swan was sure would overshadow whatever black cloud that was hanging over her.

Granted, she had no way of knowing how deeply in love Bella was with this Edward character. In less than a year, he was able to cause more damage than their parent’s separation had ever been able to, and she had been devastated – for a bit.

“Hey, Bells,” (Y/N) tiptoed into her room. Much like every other day, she sat on her office chair staring into the endlessness of the woods behind our house. “I was gonna wrap up some presents for tomorrow. Mind if I do it in here for a bit of company?”

A grunt of agreement.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she placed everything on the bed, unloading the unnecessary amount of presents in her arms. “You know, Uncle Billy invited us over to spend Christmas with him and Jake. Dad is gonna try to put on a barbecue in this snow,” she chuckled, and she could have sworn she had heard the skin on her cheeks creak up into a smile. “I still remember when we were little, and he tried so hard to light the barbecue during a blizzard. And the wind just kept blowing the flame off. He was so pissed and packed the steaks away.

But, yeah, I’ve never understood why they like meat so much. I mean we’re in freezing weather and he still wants to do a cookout.”

“Just be thankful there’s something he can cook,” she croaked out. (Y/N) almost leaped off the bed when she heard the sound. But treating her like a wild animal was the best route – no sudden sounds or movements. “And that you eat meat.”

“Right, the vegetarian thing. I mean, I can make you anything, so you don’t feel left out.” (Y/N) softly prodded around the situation, maybe she could catch her sister in a moment where she’d finally agree to leave her bedroom. “I’m sure everyone would be more than delighted if you were there.”

“I’m not going, (Y/N),” Bella whispered. Her shoulders slumped once more and all the liveliness that (Y/N) could have sworn had returned to her body, dissipated in a breath.

“Come on, Bella,” she complained. “You need to leave the house for another place other than school and the Newton’s store. You were broken up with, you’re not dead.”

Bella’s body morphed back into the statue-like position she rested in most of her days. Her sights were once again frozen on the window, searching for something – someone – that simply was not there. (Y/N) had joked to their dad that they should throw the chair away while she was at school, but as each day passed it seemed like more of a possibility.

“Fine, Bells,” she sighed and gathered all her things. “You know, this guy must have been heaven on earth, cause no one’s worth this much pain.”

It’s difficult to pull someone from a hole they created for themselves. Bella was stuck deep in this hole, but she was making no effort to get out of it, regardless of how many people were trying to help her. (Y/N) found it almost baffling how many people cared for her sister, but she only cared for the one guy that left her to rot.

The girl finished wrapping the rest of the presents in her room before starting a quick dinner for her father and herself, knowing Bella would most likely not eat anything, like every other night. (Y/N) knew her irritation was visible. She loved her sister, but her behavior was starting to become unbearable. A couple of more months of this and she was sure she’d go insane. It had been four months and, as time passed, she seemed to be getting worse rather than better. It was exhausting.

After finishing up a pot of spaghetti and meat sauce, (Y/N) left a plate served inside the microwave and a note on the fridge for her dad. She was far too exhausted to clean up and left all the dirty dishes in the sink. Dad could clean it, she thought. Instead, she went up the stairs and plopped onto her bed, allowing the warm comforter and the pillow to pull her into a deep sleep.

But before she could truly succumb to slumber, her phone rang. Jacob’s name lit up the screen, and under the words, “come outside” were displayed. Instantly, a smile spread across the girl’s face. If there was anyone that could put her out of my sour mood, it would be him.

Running out the door, she put on her boots and wrapped a jacket around her body. She was met with the visual of Jacob in his truck wearing a devilish grin on his face. He reached over and opened the passenger door for (Y/N) and beaconed her inside. Trying to avoid spending more time in the cold she jumped into the truck, sighing contentedly as warmth engulfed her.

“Hey,” he smiled. Jacob leaned over the center console, placing one hand on her cheek and pulling her toward him before placing a kiss on her lips. “Couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see you.” 

“I noticed,” she chuckled shyly. There was no reason for her to still be nervous around him, but she simply couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach. What she didn’t know at the time was that the butterflies were a warning. “I’m glad you couldn’t wait.”

“Were you able to convince Bella to come?” 

“I tried,” she sighed. “There’s just no getting through to her right now.”

“Man, that Cullen bastard really did a number on her.” She could see the anger coming from Jacob. It was like a burning aura that surrounded him. His teeth were gritted, and his hands had closed into a tight fist. “Where does he get off abandoning her like that? If I were him, I would have never let her go. She doesn’t deserve that.”

That had stung. (Y/N) knew he was probably not over his silly crush on Bella, but to mention being with her while being with (Y/N), hurt. But she knew she couldn’t bring that up without causing a fight. “Can we please not talk about that,” the girl said instead. “I feel like my life has become Bella Swan’s Days of our Lives.”

“Yeah, sorry,” he laughed awkwardly. “You know, something weird happened the other day.” 

“What happened?” 

“You remember that guy that was staring at you at the bonfire a couple of days ago?” 

“Paul something?”

“Lahote, yeah,” he corrected. “He came over and told me I should stay away from you. Did something happen there?” 

He was... jealous? The question came out of nowhere. (Y/N) thought she had been clear that she had never met him before seeing him that night, and that she wanted nothing to do with him. Although ever since that night she could not get his addictive stare out of her head. When she closed her eyes at night, even if she started by thinking of Jake, her brain couldn’t help but dissolve into his piercing brown gaze. Her head would not shake the image of the boy from it.

“Jake, I already told you that you have nothing to worry about there,” she smiled at him in an attempt to subdue his anger. “I don’t know who this Paul guy thinks he is, but I am not interested in him in the slightest.” 

“It’s just, the gall this guy has to think he has some kind of claim over you. As if he doesn’t know who you are to me.” 

“What am I to you exactly?” she teased. They had yet to have any conversation about where this relationship was headed. It had been such a short amount of time, but they had known each other for a lifetime. "I would like to know." 

“Well, I’m hoping you’d like to be my girlfriend,” he grinned, any sign of anger disappearing. “What do you say?” 

 “I don’t know,” (Y/N) giggled coyly. “Maybe I should keep my options open just in case Paul decides to ask me out. Wouldn’t want to close out the market.” 

“You’re funny.” 

He leaned in once more for a kiss, but this one was different. Jake scooched closer to (Y/N), doing his best to deepen it. She ran her fingers through his long hair as his hands rested on the sides of her face. This was desperate and passionate, just the thing to push Paul Lahote out of her mind.

As the windows started fogging and their hands started traveling south, a knock on the window startled the teenagers apart.

“I really hope that’s not you, Jacob Black, with my daughter,”  Charlie spoke through the fogged-up window, flashlight in hand.

Jake flashed her an apologetic smile before rolling down the window on his side. "Hey, sheriff. How’s your night been?” 

“Well, it was a very uneventful one at first,” he grumbled. “Until I came home, and I saw your truck with misty windows and my daughter in the passenger seat. Hi, (Y/N).”

“He~ey, dad.” She gave him a small wave and covered her reddened face with her hands. “We were just talking.”

“Last time I checked talking doesn’t fog up windows, honey,” her father countered. “Let’s go, (Y/N). Jacob, get home.”

She jumped out of the truck after squeezing Jake’s hand as reassurance and joined her father’s side. Promptly, he pushed her behind him, acting as a barrier between Jacob and the girl.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Jacob.”

“Alright, Mr. Swan,” he responded. She could tell he was swallowing the laughter that had bubbled in his throat and was threatening to spill. “Bye, (Y/N).”

“See you, Jake.”

“Get in the house, (Y/N).”

Her father’s reaction was perplexing. He’d always liked Jake. He even joked when they were little that they would make a cute couple. Now, he was acting as if he’d caught her with a dangerous stranger. She wondered if he’d reacted this way when Bella first brought Edward around.

“What was that spectacle outside, (Y/N)?” Charlie finally broke the silence, fuming. “What exactly did you think you were doing?”

“Um, I was kissing my boyfriend,” she responded matter-of-factly. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“Boyfriend? Since when is Jacob Black your boyfriend?”

“As of five minutes ago, roughly?” She was trying to liven the mood adding a tone of comedy, but she could tell her father was having none of it. “I don’t get why you’re so upset, dad. You’ve always loved Jake.”

“I’ve already got one heartbroken daughter,” he sighed. Charlie rubbed his temples, hiding the fear in his face. “I don’t know what I would do if both of you were. Jake’s a good kid but I could never forgive him if he hurt you, honey.”

“Let’s not get ahead of this, dad,” she chuckled dryly. (Y/N) had faith in her relationship, but she couldn’t help the doubt that crept into her head when her dad mentioned Jake breaking her heart. “We literally just became official. You’re ending us before we’ve even started. One thing I can tell you is that I won’t be like Bella.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t know that. I just don’t want to see you in the same pain your sister is going through.”

“Dad, I understand you’re worried,” she smiled at her father. To calm him, (Y/N) grabbed his calloused hands and gave them a squeeze. “But I am not Bella, and Jacob is not Edward. Have a little faith in me, yeah?”

“I can’t help it, (Y/N),” Charlie said. “It kills me to see Bella like this. I don’t want you to go through that.”

“I know, and I promise you that you will never have to go through this again with me,” she said. “Now, why don’t you go eat and go to bed? We have a long day tomorrow.”

“Alright, darling,” he responded defeated. “Good night.”

“Good night, dad.”

(Y/N) disappeared up the stairs, passing by her sister’s room. She mumbled a good night to her stoic sister before finally getting into her bed to hopefully sleep this time. She wanted to rest. Yet, when she closed her eyes the same ones that had been haunting her dreams stared back.

Something about him called to her. She only knew his name and still, he took possession of her thoughts. Deep inside her, something begged her to get closer to him. There was no reason for him to be in her head, much less in her dreams.

She was standing in a clearing, looking over a still river. Her body was clothed in a white flowing dress and her feet were bare. (Y/N) turned, taking in the scenery and breathing the fresh air. The sun felt warm against her skin, beckoning a smile to her face.

“You look beautiful, darling,” a voice spoke. “Absolutely radiant.”

“Thank you, Paul. And you look as handsome as ever,” she giggled. “Come here.”

He walked slowly to her, a playful grin propped on his face. His arms circled her waist and wrapped her in a tight hug, lifting her from the ground and spinning her around. As he slid her back to the ground, he placed a hand on her cheek, his thumb running through her cheek. (Y/N) closed her eyes and enjoyed the touch, his warmth feeling better than the one the sun provided.  

She felt different with him. Unlike with Jake, Paul didn’t make her feel butterflies. He made her feel calm, at peace. There was a homely feeling to being in his arms. Like she had found the right place to be in. She fit perfectly between them like she was made to be there.

(Y/N) allowed him to pull her toward the water, sinking into the comfortable river. She gave him a smile and shrieked happily as the coldness seeped through her bones. Her white dress quickly soaked and his denim shorts darkened.

“This water is freezing, Paul,” she whispered to him. He kept her close, his arms wrapped around her. “Don’t you dare let go.”

“I would never, beautiful,” he grinned. (Y/N) could feel his breath tickling her face, cooling the droplets of water that had splashed on it “I’ve got you now, and I’m never planning on letting you go.”

“Is that a threat?” she joked, copying the smile on his face.

“It’s a promise, darling,” Paul said. “It’s a promise.”

He closed the space between them and pressed their lips together. (Y/N) felt sparks running through her body, the feeling of belonging washing over her. This is where she was meant to be. He was who she was meant to be with.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you more, Paul.”

(Y/N) woke up with a startle, her breathing uneven and heavy. Her whole body was overheated. Her blanket felt too warm. She didn’t understand what that dream meant. More importantly, why it felt so real. She knew she loved Jake, and she didn’t even know Paul. What pull did he have on her that she kept dreaming of him? 

She got up from her bed, going downstairs to get a cup of water. She was startled when she found her sister staring at the sink, the faucet running, and an overfilled glass under it. (Y/N) ran to the sink, turning off the water and putting a rag on her sister’s hand to soak up the water that had run down her arm.

“What’re you doing, Bells?” (Y/N) muttered.

“S-sorry,” Bella stammered finally realizing what she had done. “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay,” she sighed. “Why don’t you sit and drink that water? Have you had anything to eat? I can make you a quick sandwich.”

“Uh, sure,” the girl breathed out. “I, uh, overheard you and Charlie.”

“Oh?”

“You two are together?” Bella questioned. (Y/N) was surprised that her sister seemed interested in her life. Rarely was the time she inquired in (Y/N)’s life. “I didn’t know you liked him.”

“You’ve never asked,” she chuckled dryly. “But we’ve just been talking these past few days. Most we’ve done is kiss a few times. Tonight, he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“Well, that’s nice.” (Y/N) placed a cheese sandwich before her, and Bella started picking at it and placing small bites into her mouth. “I always thought… never mind.”

“What, Bells? What did you always think?” She knew what her sister was thinking. Bella had always known Jake liked him. If she didn’t, she at least had to have an inkling. “That he liked you?”

“I thought so…”

“Well, maybe he did,” she sighed. “But that’s neither here nor there. He’s with me now, and that’s that.”

(Y/N) got up from the dinner table, leaving Bella by herself. She had no idea where that conversation was going, and she didn’t want to see where it would go. Her whole life she’d been second to Bella. To their parents, their friends – though, they wouldn’t notice – to Jake. This was the first time she felt she was being put first, and Bella wasn’t going to take it from her. Not this time. As much as she loved her sister, it was time to put herself first.  

Taglist: @winter-soldier-101@zheezs14 @a-sifu-hotman @sunflowerleii @DyslexicCatterpillar @Blackbluerose666 @slutforsainz @kortniec696 @xcastawayherosx @minhaimaginação @bluebirbnamedJay @sirenheadenby@andreiaafaria@bluetreecloud20 @valejewel @nogitsune-the @user0ur0mom @skyesthebomb @swidkid

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Forbidden Lessons XXIV

Masterlist

Friday is here, I’m so tired.

Warnings: noncon, age gap, abuse of power, coercion, mentions of suicide, depression. Y'all know I do it dark and spicy. You have warnings, use them

Thots, comments, screaming, and feedback are welcome and highly encouraged. Thank you!

“Pick a case,” Bucky says as he stands beside you in the aisle.

You stare at the rack of plastics, silicone, and drop-proof shells. You try to ignore the twinge in your chest, the mental note of how his demeanor shifts, subtle and slow, dangerous. Since he showed up at your door the day before, his tenderness is terse. He’s worried, you know that, but so are you. About him.

You look closer at a case decorated with flamingos but put it back. Then another with sunflowers speckled across it, little gems in the middle of each. You like it.

“Sunflowers… sunshine,” he muses, a lighter tone.

“Mhmm,” you hand it to him, “I like sunflowers.”

“Good to know,” he says and nods you back towards the table of associates. You sit beside him as he puts down the case beside the till, “she wants this one. You can ring it in when you’re done all that.”

“Great, we’ll just finish up the transfer to the new phone and put a screen protector on, we’ll give you that free with the case,” the associate explains, “it’s gonna take a while if you want to look around some more. Or you could shop around at the mall and we’ll have it held for you when we’re done?”

“Thanks,” Bucky says, startling you as he touches your hand, “how  about lunch, sunshine?”

He stands before you can answer. You get up too and shy away from the young guy working on the phone. You let Bucky lead you around the aisles of accessories and towards the door. The girl behind the small desk between the automatic doors tells you to have a good day.

“Well, are you hungry?” he swings your hand as he clings to it.

“Sure,” you answer in a small voice.

He huffs as he pulls you along, “what’sa matter, sunshine? You’re quiet.”

“Nothing,” you lie, “it’s cold. I’m tired.”

“It’s him, isn’t it?” his grip tightens as anger laces his timbre, “trust me, I gave him something to be sorry for. To think what he did–”

“I don’t want to think about it, please,” you say gently.

“Of course,” he accepts as you cross the parking lot, “how about this shawarma place?”

“Okay,” you agree.

You enter the small shop, locally run by the looks of it. He asks you what you want but you tell him to just get you whatever he gets. He leaves you at a table and waits in line. You chew your thumb and think.

You knew. It’s always too good to be true. He might be nice… sometimes. And maybe he does care but it’s too much. He’s acting like you’re together. Like you belong to him. It’s suffocating. After so long wanting someone, anyone, to your own, this isn’t what you intended.

He comes back and puts down a tray. You pick at your tray of fries as he bites into his wrap. You use the opportunity to bask in the silence. He always expects an answer, sometimes it’s easier to just say nothing.

“You didn’t mention your mother was in town,” he says suddenly, pausing to suck on his straw, “not until that text.”

“Well… she wasn’t supposed to be here long,” you shrug, “I didn’t think it mattered.”

“She’s shitty, you know? Doesn’t even come to the hospital and now she’s… with him?”

“She doesn’t know about him,” you don’t know why you’re defending her. You’re not truly, but it’s not his business.

“Still, if you were my kid, after everything, I wouldn’t be anywhere else but with you,” he clucks and shoves several fries into his mouth.

“I’m not,” you blurt out, wincing as you try to correct the slip, “what I mean is, you don’t need to do all this–”

“Someone has to keep you safe. From him, from yourself.”

“But–” you stop and chew on the greasy fries.

“But what? You know, you can be honest with me.”

You take a breath and press your lips tight, “you’re– you were my professor. And you’re older so I don’t–”

“It didn’t stop you before,” he frowns. You flinch and he does too, “sunshine, I don’t mean it like that. I know he hurt you, it wasn’t your fault but if you won’t protect yourself, then you leave me no choice. Haven’t I taken care of you?”

You quiver as a memory tugs at your mind. A wine glass and Laufeyson’s slither, “I will take care of you.” You drop the half-eaten fry and wipe your hands on the serviette. You take a drink of the sugary soda.

“I didn’t ask for you to,” you murmur, “and I know you’ve done a lot but…” your eyes water, “you’re right, I should protect myself. Take care of myself, so maybe you sh-should take that phone–” his blue eyes blaze at you as you speak, “a-and um, return it or s-sell it, and you won’t have to worry about me–”

“Goddammit,” he hisses as he leans in, “do you think it’s a choice for me? Sunshine, how can I not worry about you?”

You sit back, stunned.

He reminds you of Professor in a certain way. Persistent and patronizing. Making you small as he looms large over you, yet different. It’s not that implicit, unspoken coercion, but blunt and brutal possession. While Laufeyson played up the act of desperation, there’s a very genuine sense of it from Bucky.

“Don’t treat me like him,” he sniffs, “I’m not like that. I love you.”

You’re speechless. You put the cup down and meet his gaze, fiery and fervent. Very much unlike Laufeyson. There is no slow roll up the hill, it is a violent, quaking eruption that overflows and consumes.

“You’re fragile, you need to be handled with care. I can do that. I can be patient, I have been.” He taps his fingers on the tray, “can I tell you something?”

“Mhmm,” you hum and pick your nail under the table.

“I text you every morning not just because you need it but because I do,” his eyes bore into you, “it’s the only thing I look forward to. I live this life where everything is routine. Year after year nothing changes. I’m still alone. Until you, sunshine. You’ve made everything so much brighter for me.”

Your stomach churns. That heat of claustrophobia sets in, the exact opposite of the cold dejection cast upon you by Laufeyson. You shudder and hide it by reaching for your wrap, tearing the paper as you focus on the task.

“I’ve never had shawarma before,” you say, “thank you.”

He doesn’t answer right away, as if he’s waiting for something, but you don’t give it to him. He picks up his wrap again and sits forward.

“Dig in,” he says, “you’re young, you should be trying all sorts of new things.”

[unfinshedsentec]

Hello! I just recently stumbled across your blog and I really love the way you write for Mikey and Izana, your version of them is so comforting! If you refuse to write this request, please don't feel bad! It's also worth saying that you can take your time to write this, please don't rush and take care of yourself. As for my request: Mikey, Izana, and Kazutora with an s/o who beats a stage 3 cancer and they want to surprise their boyfriend with the good news thanking the boys with all their heart

hi love! I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this, but I finally did and I really hope you like it! It was so comforting to write this and I hope you find it comforting too❤️❤️

when they find out you beat cancer!

reader is gender neutral!

characters: mikey, izana, and kazutora

tw: vomit and depression

Mikey 

Your battle with cancer had been a long one.

You had chemo, you felt so sick, you were stuck in the hospital constantly, and well, you just felt terrible.

It was truly the worst period time in your life.

You were supposed to be out partying and living life, but instead you were suck inside either sick, or being to much of a risk to go out. But, no matter how bad things got, your boyfriend stuck through it all with you.

Mikey didn’t leave you, and he instead gave you all the love and support he has. He was the only thing in this sucky world that made you feel normal again. In a way, he was your life support.

Well, it turned out that with his and others support, you managed to beat your stage 3 cancer!!!!!! You couldn’t be more excited!!!! You truly couldn’t stop sobbing.

The more people you shared the exciting news with, the more you cried, as they hugged you and sobbed from happiness. Honestly, nothing was more rewarding.

The only person you hadn’t told was Mikey himself, and boy were you excited to tell him. And what better time to tell him then on your 3-year anniversary.

“Soooo” you began, while Mikey sipped his kids’ glass of apple juice.

“Soooo??”

“I have something important to tell you…” you continued, the anticipation killing you.

“Oh shit” Mikey replied, honestly scared. “Am I in trouble?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, it’s something else”

“Oh…what is it?”

“I’m…..” you began, a big grin forming on your face. “CANCER FREE”

Mikey went quiet. I mean dead quiet. His face was blank, and his eyes just screamed that nothing was going on in that head of his. Clearly, he was processing what you said, but knowing Mikey, it’s gonna take some time.

“Would you like me to repeat that?”

“Yes”

“I’m cancer free!!”

This time, his mouth just dropped open, so wide that you swear you saw a fly flew in. I mean, this man really had a hard time processing it. But after around 20 minutes of being unresponsive, he suddenly stood up with possibly the bright look on his face.

“REALLY?! Y-YOUR CANCER FREE??”

“YES”

Then, Mikey raced over to you, picked you up, and spun you in circles. You sobbed as he gripped on to you as tight as possible, almost as if the world was ending. Mikey even started sobbing from happiness. And he only teared up more as you continued.

“….If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I would’ve lived through it all. So, thank you Mikey, thank you for saving me! I love you more than words can say!”

“I love too….and god, I’m so glad y-you’re okay”

Now, you guys can live out the happy future he always dreamed of, the same future you had longed for. You could be happy without worrying about cancer’s dumbass.

And my god nothing was more satisfying than that.

 Izana

Izana was a trooper through this whole cancer thing.

He was there while you struggled through the chemo. He was there while you cried from fear, and from depression.  He tagged along on almost all of your appointments and made sure to held your hand through everything he could.

He held your hair back when you threw up and took care of you when you need it. When you couldn’t go places from risk, Izana would be sure you had even more fun than you would’ve. Not only that, but he was even nice enough to help pay for your medical bills, no matter how expensive they would be.

Izana really was your little cheerleader, and that was what kept you going through dark times.

Now, the dark times were done, and you beat your stage 3 cancer!! It was a long, hard-fought battle, but you were victorious.

You beat cancers ass!

Unfortunately, because of COVID, no one could go with you to find out. So, you had the honors of being able to tell your loved ones in your own way. And of course, Izana was first.

When Izana tiredly came home after a long day of doing whatever he does, he was surprised to see you looking up at him so happily, with a cake in your hands.

“Izana! Sit down, sit down!”

Izana was honestly scared while you ushered him toward a barstool in the kitchen island.

He figured that either something horrible happened, you did something you weren’t supposed too, or maybe on the off chance, something good happened. But knowing Izana, he immediately figured it was something bad.

“Love? What’s all this for?” Izana questioned, still confused.

“You’ll see!” you answered setting the cake box down in front of him.

Curiously, Izana glanced at the cake box, wondering just why you were acting there something with the cake.

It was only when you opened the box and revealed the cake with “I’m cancer free” on it, that he understood what was going on.

“WAIT…REALLY?! LIKE ACTUALLY?!”

“Yeah! I just found out today and I really wanted you to be the first to know, cause y’know…. if it wasn’t for you, I really don’t think I’d have been able to pull through. So, thank you, thank you for sticking with me through it all. Thank you for loving me through it. Thank you for keeping me alive” you shakily said, tearing up mid-way through.

Izana only stared you shocked, before he dropped his head, a shadow covering his face. At first you though for whatever reason he was sad or disappointed, but when he looked back up at you with tear covered cheeks, you knew what it really was.

Soon enough he came running over to you, and pulled you into his chest, his body shacking for the sobs.

“Finally! Finally, you’re alright!”

You weren’t sure how long you and Izana stayed wrapped up in each other’s arms but it was a long time. It was just such a happy, memorable moment.

Even afterwards, when you guys settled down and just binged on cake and tv was memorable. This was definetly one of the best moments of your life.

Now, you could be happy. You could live the life you wanted to without worry. You could be with Izana without worrying when the last time you’ll see him is.

That was the happy ending you always wanted, and it’s what you got. And now, you and Izana could stay by each other’s side for the rest of eternity~

 Kazutora

Kazutora knows what it’s like to feel alone. Although your situations are different, he knew you felt alone like he did.

When you got diagnosed with cancer, he knew you were scared, alone, and frankly just tired. And as your boyfriend, he felt that it was his responsibility to make you as happy as possible, even in these dark times.

He helped you through everything from just being depressed, to gaining the courage to go to another doctor’s appointment. He tried his best to go to each appointment and would always be sure to hold your hand when he could. When you had to shave your head, Kazutora was there helping, smiling telling you just how beautiful you were.

Sick or not, you were still the most beautiful person in the world.

Kazutora was the sole purpose that you were able to push through such hard times. And now, after what seems like forever, your finally out of the dark.

You beat your cancer, and now that asshole is in the past!!!

You were beyond ecstatic, as in you practically jumped out of your skin from excited. But in way, you were almost more excited to tell your boyfriend, who you knew would literally shit his pants.

It was no wonder that the moment your appointment was over, you ran right to his house with a big smile on your face.

When you showed up at Kazutora’s front door at 9 a.m, super happy, Kazutora was baffled. He was happy you were in a good mood, but he didn’t know why…

“Hey love! I’ve got some exciting news~”

“Huh? What’s up?” your boyfriend drowsily replied, still half asleep.

“Ummm I kind of wished I did something else to tell you this, but I just couldn’t wait” you began, already tearing up. “I just found out I’m cancer free!!”

Kazutora just stared at you, like you were a ghost. He was still pretty out of it, so to him this was some sort’ve dream.

That’s why he pinched you.

“OW!” you yelled, smacking away his hand. “I told you I’m cancer free and all I get is a pinch??”

“This isn’t a dream?!”

“No love, this is real!” you chuckled, before wrapping your hands Kazutora’s waist. “Thank you for everything. Really, if it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I would a-alive. Thank you…thank you so much! I love you so so much!!”

Kazutora just stood there, but you knew from the shakes of his chest that he was sobbing too.

You and Kazutora just stood their sobbing for what seemed like an eternity. You of course were happy, but your boyfriend was happier. He was so happy and so relieved that he just cuddled up to you the whole day.

This whole experience had been an awful one, and now that it’s over, if felt like a huge weight was off you and your boyfriends’ shoulders.

Life was good, and now, a whole new happy beginning to your life was starting. And, of course, Kazutora was there through it all, right by your side, just as happy as you!

//end!

masterlist || reblogs are very appreciated<33

[bitchinbarzal]

bug is mad at Quinn and decides to hide from him, he can’t find her so Quinn calls his family to help

She’d been missing for twenty minutes and he was freaking out

They’d had a minor disagreement and Bug had stormed off, allowing her a couple minutes to cool down before he went to find her.

Issue was - he couldn’t find her.

He’d been searching for so long, stressed and worried.

“Bug, come on this isn’t funny now!”

“Charlotte Ellen, come out right now!” 

He was thinking of all the places she could have gone. She was three and was able to open things now.

The front door.

He ran outside screaming for her like a mad man. It was currently the off season so you were staying at the lake house which was not somewhere she knew well unlike Vancouver.

She was taught from the moment she could understand that if she were to ever get lost she told an adult her full name, her parents names and even those closest to hers names. Someone would help her.

But there wasn’t water in the equation in Vancouver, she could be in serious trouble.

He wanted to call you but he couldn’t, you were currently on a flight with bear from Vancouver as you had to go back for some important work stuff a couple days.

So he called the back up team.

His parents and brothers had rushed over having only been down the street to find him still frantically looking for her outside.

“How did you lose her?!”

“It- we- I just need to find her, ok?! Just help me find her!” He was distressed, bordering on tears. So everyone split up.

Luke opted to stay at the house in case she came back.

Jack and his dad had gone door to door to check with neighbours.

Quinn and his mom had gone to check the boats and shoreline.

While walking along looking for her his mom asked “Why did she run off in the first place?”

“She was arguing with me over, I can’t even remember what but she told me she hated me and stormed off. Mom I’ve got to find her, I just- she has to be ok”

Ellen placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it in a soothing manner “we’ll find her”

You’d be landing soon enough, that on top of not having your daughter and having to explain why was just brining Quinn’s anxiety into overdrive.

Back at the house Luke was sitting on the back porch, looking out into the water just hoping he’d see her little head pop up on the sand bank.

“Lukey, what doing?” The teenagers head swivels around to see his niece sat next to him, hair all messy and rubbing her tired eyes.

“Bug! Where have you been?!” He exclaimed, picking her up into his arms. Her head rested on his shoulder and she mumbled

“I fell sleep in the closet when I was hiding from daddy”

Immediately calling the family, he told them he had her.

When the phone rang Quinn answered immediately

“Have you found her?!”

“Yeah, yeah man she’s here I’ve got her”

He physically depressed, letting out a breath he had been holding in and speeding home.

Rushing through the house and into the yard where everyone else was he ran to pick up his daughter.

“Oh my goodness, you scared the life out of me! Don’t ever do that again!”

He pulled back to look her over - just to be sure she wasn’t injured.

“Not mad, daddy?” “No I’m so mad but I’m more scared right now so we’ll talk tomorrow ok?”

She nodded slightly “M’kay”

For the rest of the night Quinn wasn’t more than a couple feet from Bug. Eyes always on her.

When you’d returned that night you put Bear to bed before finding yours empty.

Making your way to Bug’s room you found both your husband and daughter. You watched them both asleep, his hand holding her tiny one.

“Q? Quinn, wake up babe” shaking his shoulders softly waiting for him to completely wake up.

“Huh? Oh you’re home” you chuckled

“Yeah babe I’m home, come to bed?”

He looked up between you and his sleeping daughter “I’m gonna stay here tonight”

“Everything ok?”

“We’ll talk tomorrow, I just wanna be with our girl”