#like either the new psychiatrist is wrong (possible but i seem to be the only one questioning it) or they're just Like That

[charliespringverse]

i think it should be possible to scream without making any noise or disturbing anyone or inviting any questions . just sometimes . as a treat .

[baguettesandbows]

3

tw!! talk of sa

I know Arkham Knight happened in one night, but i’m spreading it out slightly for the sake of the story.

You suddenly understood why every woman in Arkham looked numb.

As you walked out of Jefferson’s office, you didn’t flinch at the yelling from the office next door, as you usually would. You walked past the group of patients that would make obscene comments about you.

You found yourself in your room, staring blankly at the white peeling wall.

You wanted Jason. You wanted him to find you, to find out what happened. You wanted him to hurt Jefferson, the same way you’ve watched him in his Robin suit hurt men that have touched you.

You grab your pillow, and scream into it, possibly annoying other patients but you didn’t care. All you wanted was for it to get out.

The small visiting room seemed smaller when Dick Grayson was in it.

You looked at the crayons on the table, breaking them in half as Dick spoke to you.

“He’s being investigated.” Dick says quietly, choosing not to sit on the only couch, not wanting to intrude. “But with the luck people have had with Arkhams staff..”

Dick sighs and leans back against the wall, looking at you. “Until he’s gone, we’ve had them switch out your psychiatrist.”

His words make you look up.

“You mean- this wasn’t enough to get me out of here?” You say stiffly, your hands trembling around the broken crayons. “So what, your just going to trust another fucked up staff member? He fucking assaulted me Dick!” Your voice gets higher throughout the sentence.

“We didn’t know an assistant was taking over, Reader. They didn’t tell anything to us about it. We would have- we would have investigated him before he ever came close to talking to you.”

You snort. “Like that makes a difference for me to know that?”

Dicks fists clench. You knew he wasn’t angry at you, he was angry at himself. Mostly Bruce, who hasn’t spoken to you once since he put you in Arkham. Although, you know he’s still a part of it, as you get sent gift baskets from Alfred weekly.

“This.. this is the best place for you right now.” Dick says, exhaustion seeping into his words. He doesn’t sound like he believes it, either.

“I hate you.” You whisper harshly, rubbing the crayons against the table.

“I know.”

The first sign you realized something was wrong, was when security lessened in Arkham.

Staff members were getting fired left and right. You assume it was Bruce, finally taking charge of Arkham and firing all of the twisted staff.

You walked down one of the catwalks, walking down the stairs to look at the lunch tables, driving where to sit, when you heard the television.

“Man charged with biting someone-“ Normal. “In a laundry unit after victim heard him screaming at himself.”

Zombie apocalypse? Gothams probably already had one.

You shake your head and walk over to one of the corner tables, sliding into the seat and setting your tray on the table. A woman sits down across from you, but pays no attention as she keeps to herself.

You stuff the slop into your mouth, because as much as you hated the food, you wanted to look like yourself when Jason came back.

If.

When.

Fuck.

You slam the tray of slop, on the edge of the table, making it fly off the table and onto the ground. The woman’s cross from you flinches but doesn’t react.

You can’t believe that your losing the idea that Jason’s alive. Maybe Jefferson fucked you up more than you thought.

“Oh shit- look how fucked up the guy looks!”

Your gaze moves to the television, where they show the victim of the biting man. Your eyebrows furrow are the image. *Is that allowed on the news*?

“Fuck- imagine being known as the guy who bit someone.”

“Carol, you used to eat your victims hair.”

You scrunch your nose and focus on the television instead of the patients conversations.

The second time you realized something was different, was when they shut off the news in the rec rooms.

You checked with the male block, and one had informed you that theirs was shut off too.

Gothams news was something people were used to. What was so horrific, that they wouldn’t show Arkhams patients?

With the lessening staff, you noticed more and more fights break out. It felt different than the years you’ve been here. There wasn’t the threat of a nurse with a syringe behind you at every problem.

You’ve started tying your doorknob to your bed frame just in case.

At night, you felt your bed frame jiggling. You bolted upright to see your neighbor trying to open the door, and you quickly walked over.

Visiting has gotten usual with her, since her guard had gotten fired.

You let her in before shutting the door behind her, and turn to face her. “What?”

She, Anna, looks at you with a grin. “They’ve given him a name.”

You look at her weirdly before walking over to your bed and sitting down. “Who?”

“The guy whose been dropping fear gas everywhere. Didn’t you hear Steph talking about it?”

Steph- a patient whose boyfriend works as a journalist.

“No- I barely talk to her.” You mumble, watching as Anna walks over to your dresser and grabs a baked good from the gift basket. “So a guy has been behind these weird attacks?”

Anna nods, her lips pursed together as she chooses form your stash. “Apparently no one can find anything out about him. Only knows he’s working with Scarecrow. Do you like these?” She holds up a blueberry muffin and you wave her off to take it. “So he like- calls himself the Arkham Knight. Or at least, that’s what Stephs boyfriend said.”

You snort. “Wonder who he’s after.”

Anna nods, raising her eyebrows sarcastically. “Yet he’s the first villain to name himself after Batman. If I had the money to become a high class villain, that would’ve been my first idea.”

You watch as she bites into one of the muffins. “No one’s as smart as you, Anna.” You say, sarcastically, but she doesn’t ever notice that.

You look at the barred window in your room, and get up, walking over to it. Only the tips of your fingertips can reach it, so all your able to see is the top of a tree growing next to Arkham.

“Arkham Knight.” You mumble to yourself. “Let’s hope your different than the others.”

[iliveinabarbieworld]

I'm done with my laundry, and I need to do some grocery shopping because I don’t have any water left, and I’m out of cleanser. I also need to buy more tea, but I’m too lazy to go out. Maybe I’ll just buy a gallon of water from the nearest convenience store near my house. My favorite convenience store is called Emily. I always buy ice cubes there, and my favorite drinks are chocolate milk, Pocari Sweat, pineapple juice, Mogu Mogu, and Rite n Lite (the pink one with glutathione and collagen), and any yogurt drink. These are my go-to drinks. Whenever I go to 7-11, which is like a happy place for me, I always buy something new, whether it’s a drink or dessert, or my favorite ramen with lots of cheese. My go-to dessert is chocolate pudding.

I love food so much that I can’t even imagine passing by a 7-11 without buying something. It would feel like I’m not being kind to myself if I didn’t buy food that I like when I see it. This is the main reason I’m really afraid to lose my job because I’m so used to getting whatever I want instantly. I love Grab deliveries where I don’t have to go out—they just bring what I want to my doorstep while I’m watching movies or doing whatever I want at home. I love my simple and comfortable life.

I don’t know if it’s really free, or if I’m already tied to this comfort. I’m afraid of meeting the wrong person because I’m afraid of losing all the comfort and freedom I have now. I’m also afraid of making the wrong decisions because I’m scared of losing the comfort I have. Maybe this comfort is preventing me from growing, or maybe it’s just what I need at this moment.

I have no idea.

Am I overthinking everything too much? How can I just live life without worrying if I’m doing the right thing and just enjoy the present without judging or over-analyzing it? I’m resting and blogging here, but I keep questioning if being so at ease is the right thing to do. I can’t stop thinking about it, and it’s making me crazy. A hug from my crush would be so helpful, but sadly, it’s not available. So, I’ll just think of him to distract myself, but thinking too much about him also bothers me because it keeps me from being present and makes me dream about him. How can I fix the way I think? I know something is wrong because it’s already draining me. This is why I love to sleep so much—I can escape from my overactive mind.

Gen offered to keep me company while I do my errands, but I told him I’m scared I might get used to his presence and become dependent on him. I’m also uncomfortable having him around because I don’t want to get used to him or possibly develop feelings for him. Even though I know it’s unlikely, I’m being cautious and don’t want to take any chances. Why do I make everything so difficult, and why does everything seem so hard for me?

I want his presence because it calms me, but I don’t want to rely on him like I always have. I hate this feeling of pushing people away when I really need someone to be there for me. Do I have a mental issue, or is this just normal? I really need help. I’ll sleep to shut down my mind and hope that when I wake up, everything will be clearer.

I want to go to the parlor and get my nails done, but I don’t want to go outside and see people. What is wrong with me? I know something is off, but I just don’t know what it is.

I just need a hug, but I don't want to get one because I might need it more and keep wanting it.

Can anyone understand what I’m going through? Can I just let a psychiatrist read my blog and tell me what to do? I don’t want to do anything to help myself, but I want a magical fix.

I only want my crush to be the one who comes to my house, sleeps in my bed, and does things for me. But sadly, he doesn’t want to be with me or do any of that. I don’t want Gen to do these things for me because I don’t want to give him false hope about us getting back together. He can’t give me the life I want, and he’s not someone I want to be with either. Should I just accept the help that’s being offered? I guess I’ll just relax and watch the universe unfold its mysteries. Besides, Christopher is probably doing whatever pleases him without even thinking of me—or maybe he is, I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong, or maybe I’m right, but I’ll just focus on what’s being offered to me in the present. I am grappling with some complex emotions and trying to navigate a situation that doesn't fully align with what I want. I am torn between accepting the support I am being offered and the desire for a different kind of relationship. It's wise to take a step back and let things unfold naturally, especially since I am still figuring out what's best for me. Trusting the process and focusing on what the present offers could hopefully bring the clarity I need.

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

the wolf should’ve been afraid of me.

Titans 3.04

just under the wire! ... i hope.

like with the previous review, i’m typing this up as i see the episode. here we go!

spoilers ahead.

1. ... well. that was an interesting cold open.

1.25. i don’t know whether to admire this show’s restraint when it comes to gotham and its excesses, particularly arkham asylum. it’d be easy to go hammer and tongs, like suicide squad (2016) did, or any number of bat media did, at a tropey, colourful~~insanity~~ that can be quite damaging, casting mental illness in strangeness and criminality. it definitely shows gotham as... separate from the rest of the country, its own ecosystem of heroes and villains, a sort of rogue state. 

but that ecosystem is still human, with its heroes needing to clip parts of themselves away just to survive, growing old and needing to be recycled, its villains languishing in the same kinds of systems that fail everybody else who needs to be helped. it’s a quieter, tenser sort of wrongness: not strange enough that you can dissociate, but not close enough that you can completely empathise. gotham is its own creature.

1.5. i know that the reasoning behind this is more doylist than anything, but i’m so glad that joker was killed off with little fanfare right at the start of the season. he is the one man in the batverse that’s transcended its confines as this sort of ethereal boogeyman/eternal edgelord and to justify his presence in the series would mean giving him this tired, overblown importance and too much of a stab at colourful, tropey “madness” in this otherwise-subdued series. i wish all batmedia would follow suit and get rid of this fucker.

1.75. so jason is bucking scarecrow’s control! or reminding him of who exactly holds all the cards right now. circling back to what i talked about in the last review, it’s remarkable just how little time it’s been since jason’s “death” and he’s already got ‘minions’ and elaborately set up plans to track, break and kill the titans. just how long has he been planning this? when did he first look at WE weapons prototypes and think that’s something i can use to blow somebody up? and the most unsettling question: did he plan his own death at the hands of the joker just so that he could break batman?

at this point it’s obvious that the scarecrow at least started jason down this path, but it’s frightening just how far he’s travelled already.

1.8. aaagh, less than one minute in! i’ll shut up. 

2. conner washing his hands at the sink reminds me that he was directly in the line of explosion when hank got blown up and he’s probably got atomised hank-bits all over his skin that he’s desperately trying to wash off.

... you’re welcome.

2.25. conner, don’t you speak to gar fucking logan like that, sir, no!

2.3. if anything it’s the lex part of him that gave him the knowhow to recognise the weapon and build a de-activator for it. 

anyway, for that ‘half-breed’ and ‘talking tiger’ comment?

(i wish, tho, that we actually see conner more interested in the superman part of his legacy, like maybe listening to stories from gar, or even better, dick, so we get a better idea of the pressure he’s feeling to live up to that part of him and not the part that’s lex.)

((i talked about conner’s stages of moral development in his introductory episode last season, but i wonder if the next stage of his self-actualisation would be to further integrate the parts of himself and realise that they are only parts and he, conner, is an entirely different person unto himself that can make decisions on how to use what he has and what he knows. his superman abilities can be used to destroy. his lex knowledge can be used to save.))

3. oh dawn :((

3.25. is this the last we see of dawn and hank? i mean, we know donna is coming back; would it be a stretch to think they’ll try to have a go at resurrecting hank as well?

3.5. “deathstroke didn’t make us into killers.” good, because deathstroke didn’t make jason a killer either. there’s a missing step there you need to be looking for, dick. 

3.75. dick did try to break the cycle, step away from gotham, run from the possibility that he could turn into batman. it didn’t help; he couldn’t fully withdraw from his vigilante persona the same time he loathed it, and batman literally haunted him both asleep and awake. but maybe gotham doesn’t have to turn anybody into anything. maybe gotham has nothing to do with it at all. it’s about taking responsibility, realising some sacrifices are pure bullshit, and building an actual family instead of merely a team.

anyway: hugs!

(oh, also? mr “i hate flying”? i mean, there’s perfectly valid reasons to hate flying that’s not related to childhood trauma, but then again, this guy was literally a ‘flying grayson’ once. also also, remember that he also gets sea-sick. must’ve a lot of fun stories to tell.)

4. ooh that gar/kory confrontation was brief but cool!

listen, i have never seen a psychiatrist with that extravagant an office and SIR I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW HOW--

4.5. kory’s so unused to reaching out for help and it’s breaking my heart that HPG likely is some kind of impostor that’s maybe causing her symptoms in the first place. 

kory and dick have mostly been apart this season but it’s remarkable how their journeys have paralleled each other; kory processes her grief, isolation and existential dread into a determination to take care of this new family she has, no matter what it takes; dick does much the same, forging ahead with plans and solutions until he has no fuel left in him and spirals into a massive breakdown.

4.25. listen titans this really is a TERRIBLE continuity error. we aren’t goldfish; we can clearly remember that two minutes ago it was gar’s upper arm that was burned, not his forearm. COME ON.

“sensory deprivation tank” *SNORT*

anyway, gar is the BEST

4.5. i wonder where these visions of experimentation took place. was it on tamaran, or on earth, after she came to hunt down rachel/trigon and before she lost all her memories? is HPG a part of the scientist group that experimented on her? ... god, i hope not. i mean, i think he is, but it would be cool to have some positive therapist representation in media. 

5. you’d think the van transporting a dangerous supervillain that only batman could catch would be more secure but... i’m also not entirely surprised. 

5.15. i love dick gives ZERO shits about hiding himself or even ensuring scarecrow is adequately contained. just turns away after kidnapping him in BROAD DAYLIGHT and says ‘let’s go’. I LOVE THIS DUMBASS

6. lmao gar is having a really really shitty day SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN A BREAK or just a goddamn story arc of his own

6.5. i’m really confused about the timeline here. so... sometime ago, kory came down to earth to hunt down trigon, yeah? at some further point down the line she and her sister were kidnapped and experimented on. THEN she somehow escapes but... loses her memory? a few months pass and then we see blackfire alive and well and free; she kills faddei, can impersonate other people, and is clearly seeking out kory. but now she’s still in the experiment facility...? what’s going on?

i’m not entirely surprised about the facility being mostly deserted. either the biggest investors in this project gave up on it and it was left to the most fanatic to carry on, or they were deliberately trying to lure kory and get her to free blackfire--expand the environs of the experiment, so to speak.

7. hopefully barbara is going to get something to do other than listen to various men give her Attitude

8. how do you terrorise a terrorist? well:

i love when dick is a scary-competent motherfucker.

8.25. ooooh, the attack on crane at arkham a ploy to get crane to blackgate? nice one dick, i didn’t even think of that. but why though? to protect crane from the titans? to intercept the van to blackgate and “rescue” him? seems likely--red hood was there, except dick got to crane quicker.

9. still reeeallly unclear about the komand’r situation. was komand’r captured after s2? is this all A TRAP?? if so, why are you stepping into the only thing that can contain you, kory????

9.25. so... definite parallels between dick/jason and kory/kom here. i’m just. i’m still. really confused. i’ll shut up now.

10. this may be my favourite dick look yet:

woodsman!dick in a beanie.

10.5. i unironically love how titans has made this bizarrely-devoted-to-his-moniker, toxin-spewing supervillain into a tamer version of hannibal, psychoanalysing his victims into submission. it’s of a piece with how inward looking titans is, the way all of its villains are obsessed with how our protagonists’ minds work, to the point where they would actually spend time inside of them. 

there are no big plots to end the world. no apocalypses or endgames here. these villains collect the titans’ insecurities like infinity stones. the way the titans defeat them is by achieving character growth--literally winning by the power of love. literally “the real superpower is the friends we made along the way”!

10.7. anyway, i’m betting dick is used to this bullshit from crane and is humouring him in the service of getting more information. the story about the wolf? an implicit threat, not to mention dick getting to control what crane knows about him and what methods he would use to manipulate him.

am i giving dick too much credit here? i don’t think so. he’s really impressed me so far this season.

10.75. like. there’s a real unreliable narrator vibe coming off with every person that talks about bruce (much like how the various members of the titans talked about jason’s motivations) and to buy into crane’s talk about bruce being a psychopath is to fall for the same manipulation that jason fell for. dick is the only person who hasn’t really psychoanalysed bruce this season, and i think some part of his detective brain is piecing things together into a bigger picture.

11. i’m glad kory rescued kom but did she have to kill the scientist?

(i mean, yeah, probably - the less people know that kom escaped the less likely they’re going to have the fucking govt on their doorstep, but still.)

11.5. dick’s gonna come back to wayne manor, stare straight at komand’r and go, well which room would you like? because the team might as well adopt ANOTHER person, yeah?

12. oh MAN that red hood/nightwing fight was AMAZING! and he did the thing! the boomerang escrima thing! i’m so delighted!

12.5. the anger and disbelief in dick’s voice when he says you told crane EVERYTHING?! tells me that he knew exactly what he was telling crane himself.

12.75. “everything you are is because of him” - oh that reminds me of halluci!bruce from last season. i hope we see halluci!bruce again--he is so vicious but so entertaining... so much more effective at tearing dick down than crane or jason combined. goes to show that dick’s biggest enemy is own fucking head.

12.8. oh no! dick’s shot! crane is in the wind with red hood! blackfire is now with the titans! i love it!

honestly this season’s pacing is such a big step up from the last couple. gold star, show.

[milfnearyou]

                 𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧: 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞.

      “𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦.”

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟑.𝟐𝐊 | 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐗 (𝐗-𝐄𝐗𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐈)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: KIDNAPPING. TORTURE. PTSD. TRAUMA. WHIPPING. HARASSMENT. NO SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER. MENTIONS OF PSYCHOLOGICAL ELEMENTS. LIGHT TALK OF PERSONALITY DISORDERS AND SCHIZOPHRENIA WILL BE DELVING INTO MORE DETAILS ON THE NEXT CHAPTER.

I ALSO DECIDED TO MAKE THIS A SERIES TO PREVENT MAKING THE WHOLE THING REALLY LONG ON ONE POST SINCE TUMBLR GLITCHES A LOT BUT ALSO FOR PEOPLE WHO CAN’T FOCUS ON VERY LONG FICS :)

VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

To say that you were hurting would be an understatement.

Everything and anything served as an infernal memory. Whether it be an object or something as simple as the weather, the effect it had could potentially be triggering for you. This new way of life felt more like a slow, painful process in which you were dying.

Overwhelming, things were now always overwhelming. Your anxiety shooting through the roof, the small person inside of you crumbling away into nothing as you screamed at the top of your lungs only to never be heard.

Your life felt orchestrated, the strings and rhythms conducted by no one else but Lucifer himself. With your pain, he created a symphony for a play, one that was to be forever engrained within your mind, body and soul.

It felt surreal, a simulation with you as its subject and yet, it was in every way authentic. None of it was a figment of your imagination, it wasn't just a bad dream but it was your reality. The scars that littered your body like a tormented and abused piece of canvas served as proof that it had all happened.

Your body ached, countless spikes of excruciating pains rushing through your many vessels and arteries, the nerves on your body were almost always on edge. It was difficult to hold onto reality, the point of returning being so far away that the thought of just letting go, would be a much quicker and simple solution. After all, you were halfway to insanity and the thought of being sane no longer remained a possibility.

It didn’t stop there. Your biggest enemy was your mind. The cursed piece of soft tissue that sat right in the middle of your enclosed skull was the one thing quickest to abandon you, betraying you within a blink of an eye and letting your body act on its own. It was impossible to control your thoughts when you almost always gravitating towards self-destruction.

Day and night, your mind screamed at you, unleashing a cacophony of howling, piercing screams that made your head ring. Blaring on and on, it had no limit. Going as far as venturing into your dreams late at night, filling your only moment of peace with countless nightmares. It was driving you mad. Always pushing you to constantly fight with yourself. You tried your best to ignore the urges but it seemed impossible.

Loudly, you'd scream into the emptiness of your surroundings telling yourself to shut up, to make it stop. Occasionally going as far as becoming physical, slapping the palms of your hands against your temple in attempts to strike yourself awake or hitting your head against a flat surface in attempts to knock the thoughts out. 

But there was no chance to wake up. You were long gone. Stuck in a deep slumber that caused your physical state to act like a zombie. Almost as if your frontal lobe had shut down. Everything occurring in a rather monotone way. Laced with a sudden breakdown that hit you every other day, exploding with fear and anger. The effects of your past trauma reminding you that you still had feelings within, that you had emotions but that they were no longer positive. The negativity overflowed within you and was always ready to burst.

You saw people, individuals who claimed they could help. Medically known as psychiatrists but in your opinion, middle-aged women who seemed lonelier than you were. Portraits of Persian cats hung all over their workrooms, the scowls plastered on the faces of the felines were ones also visible on the psychiatrists themselves.

They always said it was the voices, emerging from your previously traumatic experience. Well no shit, of course, you knew that. It was a no brainer that there were voices in your head, you had diagnosed yourself of having un-welcomed people inside your mind a long time ago. 

However, unbeknownst to the therapists themselves you also knew that they'd been planted into your mind from god knows how long ago. They simply waited for something to set them free, triggering the alarm and giving them proper cause to make you lose your mind.

All they needed was freedom and they were granted access to that with the help of a certain someone. A man who shared the same looks, name and identity as someone you grew close with, someone you developed feelings for. A man you fell in love with that had a terrible secret. It was hard to determine what exactly his secret was until you came face to face with it yourself. And when you did, you wanted out. Pandora's box had been opened and yet, it wasn't even your fault that it had.

You simply had to face the consequences of falling in love with someone who had a duplicate. Was it a clone? Or was it a twin? It was hard to say because he seemed to be from another world, a different planet even but in reality, he was conceived by the hands of a twisted mind. Fabricated inside a laboratory, only to be sent out many years later to wreak havoc upon your life.

And one dreaded night, he arrived. Snatching you away and hiding you for what added up to be weeks of torture. A show in which you were the leading role, the subject to many horrendous acts that one could never imagine. Acts that he always said were done because he “loved” you.

“You know I love you?” He’d say, all while his nimble fingers danced along the grains of your skin. Brushing up and down your arm as the fear raced through your veins. Your blood running cold, the hairs on your neck standing upwards. Your body was all too familiar with reacting with terror.

A few painfully quiet moments would pass, the sound of water dripping from the faucet, filtering into your conversation until he’d clear his throat. Leaning in forwards and resting his lips just above your left ear, his hot breath burning against your skin as you feel yourself holding in your breath.

“Silence isn’t an option, you either speak or be spoken for,” He warns and you nod rapidly in response. You knew the protocol and you knew exactly what it meant when he said that.

“Do you love me like I love you?” He asks. Circling from your back as he stands in front of you, using his calloused hand to hold your face upwards. Cupping your chin, his touch is moderately tender but you know that with one wrong move, everything could change.

“Define love,” You respond, not wanting to give him the direct answer he wanted. It would feed his ego all too much if you were to be so direct and yet, secretly he enjoyed you defying him. He loved how you didn't give in so quickly, it allowed him the chance to get physical and boy, did he love to get physical.

“Define love? I— obviously, don’t understand the concept of love as much as I'd like to admit. But when I look at you, the sickening feeling that emerges within me makes me think that yes, this is love. It’s everything that suppresses inside my chest, threatening to explode at any given moment. The oxygen that carries through my blood, that fuels the life inside me is filled with the thought of you. Love is, being alive and there’s nothing else except for you that makes me feel more alive.”

You fall silent at his response. Simply because none of it made sense, a cluster of babbled words falling out of his mouth as you stare at him watching as his expression slowly falls apart. The look of love is no longer there, replaced with infatuation, obsession and anger. He acted as if he’d known you for an eternity, professing his delusional love as if it mattered. As if you’d have a change of heart and drop everything within a blink of an eye just for him.

“...You must also understand that I love you because I can’t let him be the only person who loves you too,” He adds, “So do you love me like I love you? It’s only fair you do.”

“Love is a blessing in life. Something that isn’t forced upon, a concept in which— it may hold the key to your life in its hands but cannot be obtained without the honest feelings of another. It takes two to tango, not one, but two." 

Momentarily pausing, you swallow the lump inside your throat, pushing it downwards. Allowing the newly found courage inside your body to come forward, "...And I'm afraid I can’t dance with you.” 

Your rejection is something that hits him hard. Time seems to stop as the fleshy look on his face drops, the expression in his eyes have been replaced with a newfound fury. But it quickly wipes away as you watch him throw his head back letting out a cackle, his voice echoing inside the dingy, dark basement. 

Like a slideshow, his emotions were quick to change moving from pure anger to joy as he laughs at your response. You can't help but sit there and think that he's absolutely mad. A man who shares the same body, face and voice as your lover but seems to be much more cunning and sinister. He's evil and he proves himself to be just that with his following actions and honestly, you aren't even surprised at this point. 

His large hand that once caressed your face had now found its way to the knotted locks of hair, gripping it tightly as he shoves you to the ground. Pushing you down from the chair you once sat on and glueing you to the floor. The coldness of the surface is somewhat, soothing against your painfully hot skin as he presses your face against the ground. The weight of his body adding more pressure as he straddles you from behind, moving strings of your hair aside just so he can see your face. Amused, he smirks to himself when he sees you withering in pain, strings of saliva dripping past your chapped lips and leaking onto the floor.

"Oh dear, what a waste," He pouts, bringing forward a free hand to wipe your drool away. The tip of his finger now covered in your bodily fluids as he brings it to his lips, licking his finger in excitement. His eyes practically rolling to the back of his head as he moans in delight, "Deliciously, sweet." 

Disgusted by his actions you can't help but shut your eyes. Shielding yourself one way or another from looking at his grotesquely beautiful visage. Naturally, the tears also begin to seep past your eyes, drifting down your cheeks. You can feel him lean in, hovering over you. A whimper squeaks past your lips when you feel his tongue dragging itself across your cheek, it feels like he's about to eat you alive. Like a lion licking its prey.  

Removing his tongue from your cheek, he brings it towards your ear. Licking your helix before sucking gently on your earlobe, “I hope, you consider this next special thing. Perhaps, as a warning of some sort?” 

Pushing himself off of you, you can hear him rummage around in the drawer he’s got next to the chair you once sat on. The sound of metallic objects rattling around and clinking against each other until it comes to a halt. The silence isn't soothing, it's terrifying. 

Your heart begins to thump profusely, rapidly beating. You find it hard to breathe, to possibly calm down as your mind races with all the possible objects he could’ve chosen to use on you. A knife? Perhaps a nail gun.

The possibilities were essentially endless due to his massive collection of murderous weapons. But you receive your answer when you feel the long, multiple strips of leather entwined in cotton and tiny pieces of cattle bone brushing against your skin.

“Cat o’ nine tails,” He answers, introducing the weapon to you. Teasingly he brings the weapon up and down your bareback. Shuddering in fear as you feel the item grind against your back, the softness you feel now will be nothing in comparison to what you'll actually feel. 

"Baby, remember that I have to do this because I love you."

Thwack!

The first blow that hits you makes your ears ring. The sensation feels hot, tingling at your skin. It's a mixture of pain along with pins and needles, only getting worse with each blow that he gives you. The stinging had a pain so strong and immense that it was hard for you to even lay there still, writhing around on the ground like a worm on hot pavement. You began to feel overwhelmed with pain, your nerves essentially on fire as you struggled to keep yourself awake. 

Thwack, thwack, thwack!

You could feel the skin on your back begin to rip open, the crimson blood seeping from your wounds as he kept going. There was no mercy as you screamed, your vocal cords straining so hard your voice went hoarse. Slowly, you began to shut down. First, your hands falling limp at your sides, your body cased in sweat as you felt drained to a pulp. Then your screams came to a halt, the breathing in your voice drastically slowing down. Finally, your eyes began to droop, fluttering shut as you saw nothing but black. 

Was this the end for you? 

Jolting upwards, you topple off your bed and collide with the ground. Gritting your teeth in pain when you feel your back begin to burn, your semi-healed scars becoming agitated from the impact. Slowly rising upwards you panic at your dark surroundings but calm down once you realize that you're at home. Your sweet Maison, inside your calming bedroom with your lover sound asleep on his half of the mattress.

He's at peace with his soft and supple cheek squished against the fluffy pillow. Strands of his brown hair sticking about, his eyes shut tightly. You can't help but mumble to yourself about how adorable he is before leaving your room. Quietly heading towards the kitchen and flickering on the lights, flinching when everything seemed to be much too bright.

Your eyes gravitate towards the clock on the wall, it was four in the morning. You decided that there was no way you were going back to sleep at this hour. Shuffling towards your coffee machine, you brew yourself an iced coffee mixing in a shot of almond milk with your drink. Adding in a few ice cubes, you stir your drink slowly trying your best to ignore the pain in your back.

"You alright?"

Turning around you see Jongin, standing there shirtless in his teddy bear PJ pants. He rubs his eyes a few times before putting on his circular framed glasses, giving you a sleepy smile when he finally sees you properly through the lens. He looked beautiful in his groggy state and so did you to him with your hair flowing freely. Dressed cosily in his white tee with your supreme briefs underneath it.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Did I wake you up?" You ask, taking a sip from your drink.

"No, you're good. Can you make me one too baby?"

Nodding in response you turn towards your coffee machine, your back facing towards him to brew him a drink. "Latte?" You ask.

"Mhm, you know me so well," Slowly he wraps his arms around you, failing to notice how you slightly flinch at his touch. His hands travel towards your stomach as he hugs you tightly, placing his nose in the crook of your neck as he inhales your scent, "I love you so much."

The scene feels all too familiar and it makes you nervous. Gently you push him off of you, unaware that your gesture has hurt his feelings. Departing from your back he comes to your side, leaning against the marble counter.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He questions.

"I'm fine, just...don't, do that," You reply, the tone of your voice is soft, almost delicate as if you spoke any louder something would break.

"Do what?" He asks while bringing his hand towards your shoulder, frowning when he sees you dip your shoulder away from his touch, "You don't want me to touch you?"

Sighing you turn to face him, observing his hurt expression. His eyes are slightly glassy as he looks at you for an answer.

"Nini, it's not that I don't want you to touch me. It's because I'm still injured from the incident, so everything's just a bit fragile," You explain, partially lying through your teeth. It was true you were very hurt but you also didn't want him touching you because everything he did reminded you of the other him.

He nods quietly, smiling softly at you as he slowly gestures you to have a seat at the coffee table, "I'll cover the drink, you go rest."

Sitting down at the coffee table you quietly enjoy your beverage. Jongin soon joining you, seated at the front. The kitchen is quiet, dimly lit by the singular overhanging light you've got on. Jongin's caramel complexion shining underneath the lightbulbs rays. His eyes are affectionate, his gaze never leaving you as he chews on his bottom lip.

"I'm sorry," He starts, "I know it's been hard and I'm really sorry that you have to be hurting. I just wish that the incident could've brought us closer somehow but it's just, pushing us apart."

Drumming your fingers against the table you avoid his gaze. You don't know what to say, you can't blame him for what happened. But you also can't help but think that had you not known Jongin then you would've never met the other him. His twin or, whatever he was.

"I should've told you about him. Then maybe I could've prevented this somehow," His voice falters as you look up to see him. He's wiping his tears away, the whites of his eyes are slightly red.

"Jongin—”

"Tell me," He interrupts, "Do you see him when you look at me?"

Looking at Jongin, you can definitely see the other him. Except for the fact that the other him or Kai as he liked to call himself had dark green hair. Besides the difference in hair colours, they were pretty much identical. Opting to remain silent, he receives his answer.

"I wish it had never happened but, now that everything's passed I want to be by your side to help you heal. I want to help you through this," He explains. Nonchalantly sliding his hand forwards, he offers you to take his hand and you do, though not right away. Intertwining your fingers with his, you feel his thumb rub the skin of your palm gently.

"You know I love you?" He says and you can't help but shudder when those words come fluttering out of his mouth. Looking up at him you momentarily see Kai rather than Jongin and your heart stops. Afraid that you'll be punished for not speaking back. You say it back, in an almost trained responsive way. Even if the man that's in front of you isn't Kai but Jongin. You say it back because you're still afraid, you're still scared and those affectionate words do nothing but terrify you.

"I love you too."

   𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃: 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐅𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐔©︎

[amberwild420]

one step back, two steps forward (pt.4)

masterlist

Not all heroes wear capes

Kaylan stood tall on the roof of the building. The spotted heroin was having trouble keeping herself safe.

 For the love of God please work!

 Closing her eye she took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, her yellow green eyes glowed and she swung her rope lasso and threw it towards ladybug. The loop secured at ladybug’s waist that made the said hero startle. With a strong tug Kaylan pulled the hero upward before she started falling down right in her arms. (here)

**************************************************************************************

Her mind was exploding with worst case scenarios like a bullet train. The feeling of rope and the strong pull made her believe that she was going to be out of commotion just like that. But the moment she landed in someone’s arms, she was startled to see her savior.

 For as long as Marinette can remember, she never got fascinated by some glowing eyes. And she never voiced that. Not once in the future.

*******************************************************************************************

The beeping from the earrings startled them both. Ladybug looked around.

Thank you for your help but I need to recharge.

 Ladybug kept looking for any place to hide. With a wave Kaylan made a blue colored cube. The shocked face didn’t go unnoticed by her but she ignored it.

 It’s my magic. I made sure no one can’t either see or hear you.

Huh?

 The spotted heroin who looked baffled at the sudden reveal couldn’t process what was actually happening. Rolling her eyes Kaylan pushed the other girl to the cube.

 Tsk! get inside.

 Once she was safe inside, Kaylan turned to observe the situation. From what she gathered from Marinette’s general information and her own research she just needed to find the thing that has the magical butterfly in it.

While the whole situation looked abstruse, she knew as a magic user herself, it was possible to defy logic rather easily and the living proof was rather in front of her.

 Since I saw many victim with the mind control ability the minions are nothing but an obstacle. Considering that they can turn the other like themselves it would be best if they could be separated from the main boss.

 Miss?

With the speed of lightening, the knife was at speaker’s neck. Ladybug looked frightened for a moment but it was gone. With a sigh she put the knife away.

 I believe that you are Ladybug.

 And you are new in Paris.

 And how do you know that?

Considering I know almost everyone in the city and I don’t think that there would be someone with such abilities here. It kind of give away.

 Kaylan looked away from the heroin and looked at the crowd that gathered at the base of the building trying to climb up.

 Your partner is incompetent.

 *sigh* I know.

 I have a few plans that can help you but it involved me in a dangerous situation.

 A surprise gasp left her lips as ladybug looked at the other girl astonished.

  I can’t put the life of a civilian in danger.

 Well too late for now.

 Huh?

Looking at what she was pointing at, ladybug felt a little nauseous. There wasn’t a single civilian in sight that was not affected by the akuma.

 Give me a few sample plans and I will tell you your role.

 The words forced themselves out of her mouth but she didn’t seem to care. There was a hint of frustration and helplessness hidden by the sheer determination in her eyes. A smirk made its way towards her face making the spotted heroin regret her words by a long shot.

Sure!

*******************************************************************************************

This is so nauseating. Do they eat brain? Do you think they die if we crush their heads?

 A high pitched excited voice pierce through the crowd and every minion looked at the general direction. The shadow of two people behind a wall could be seen.

 Would you shut up? Your glass shattering voice is making me deaf.

 Excuse me?!

Geez you’re scaring the akuma with that voice. I think they are bleeding from their ears. Screechy voice!

 My voice is not screechy! Everyone knows it. Just because they are weak and pathetic and can’t bear a little loud voice doesn’t mean I’m the one to blame. God forbade, that akuma just couldn’t get any other ability from Hawkmoth……….like seriously! Zombies! So third class! And there are so many akumas that had minions. Like no originality! Don’t they have copyrights!

 A tick mark appeared on the akuma’s head.

Get them whoever they are swarm them and break them apart. How dare they say that I’m weak? I’m the strongest akuma yet. Get them! Get them! Get them!

 In no time the minions ran towards the two people leaving the main akuma all alone.

 I can’t believe her plan actually worked.

The spotted heroin called from behind before dodging the beam and knocking the weapon from plague doctor’s hand and tying her from her other yoyo. The main yoyo broke the akuma item and captured and purify the butterfly.

 Bye bye little butterfly.

 After a miraculous ladybug, the spotted heroin comforted the victim. Kaylan jogged towards the pair and extended a card towards the victim.

 My mother is a psychiatrist. You can schedule a time with her and go for a therapy. I’m sure it will do well if you don’t have to bottle up all emotions.

 The nurse gave a strained smile and left promising that she will schedule the session so something like this never happens.

 Milady!

The sing song voice of the leather clad hero made the other one flinch. Chat noir came smiling like a Cheshire cat.

 Chat noir! One again you came late and got hit instead of listening to my plan. You need to take this seriously!

 But I always take you seriously.

 Ladybug felt like giving a hard slap to his face. He didn’t listen to a single word she said and just spoke of his fantasy. It was nice listen to these when he was a good hero. It helps when the stress got into her but now it is just plain irritating.

 Chat noir you need to be a serious hero!

I am a good hero! I always save you like a knight in shiny leather.

 Th-that’s not what I mean!

 The one sided argument was enough to bring a headache. With a big sigh she pushed chat noir away from ladybug making him tumble down on the ground. It was lucky that there weren’t people around yet but the time was limited.

 Ladybug you should leave. You need rest anyway.

 Ladybug sighed in relief and left quickly. Kaylan turned to the cat themed hero with a fierce glare making the said hero flinch. Grabbing him by the collar, she pulled him up to her level.

I’ll say it just once, you better stop making her do all the work you dumb, lazy cat or so god help me I’ll be the one you will have to worry about.

  You can’t say anything to me. You’re just a new girl who came here yesterday. Ladybug and I are destined to be together.

 Chat noir yelled while struggling to get away from her. For a girl she was strong, far stronger than he is and he was the one with the miraculous, he should have more strength than a normal girl.

 If you think that you can get out, well you thought wrong.

She shook him violently before shoving him to the wall, rather violently.

  I hate people who think they are heroes and deserve the best. You are one of those heroes. Acting all high and mighty and calling himself a hero while you do nothing to live up to that claim and ladybug had to do all the work.

  You……… how dare you………….

 The anger didn’t last a second when Kaylan slammed a knife right next to his cheek. Now it was sticking right there on the wall.

How dare I? How. Dare. You? You think that the world revolves around you and they owe you a favor. Or worse. Ladybug owe you something. I might be new to all this but I can assure you a single piece of magical artifact can’t decide your destiny. So ladybug don’t owe you her love. GET. THAT. THROUGH. YOUR. THICK. SKULL.

 Chat noir didn’t move a bit. He had been scolded before but as Adrien not as chat noir. And this girl, she not only dare to scold him but she is also disrupting the peace of his class. She even sits next to Marinette.

 Marinette.

 This girl is dangerous, he need to warn Marinette or Marinette will be trouble.

During his inner turmoil, he didn’t notice her taking out her knife or leaving. When he did came to his senses she was turning a corner. He wanted to follow her but his miraculous started beeping.

 “Guess I’ll have to warn Marinette tomorrow.”

***************************************************************************************

Stepping down to the stairs after classes was dismissed, Kaylan found herself being hugged by her mother. She was asking question at a rapid speed. Some relevant and some irrelevant. Well not like it mattered. Her mother was safe anyway.

  In a distance she saw Marinette looking at her. When their eyes met, she send her an apologetic smile before waving her and leaving towards the bakery.

 Guess I’ll be asking her tomorrow.

   Life was great. Even with hilariously dangerous situation.

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(Fiction fact: 

Kaylan has magic. 

she can make solid structure. 

she didn’t said any type of incantation like Zatanna or Constantine. it makes her a different type of mage or maybe a superior one. 

Kaylan do not use magic much, instead she uses her knife, especially for threatening. ladybug was an exception.

the two shadows were illusion that she made and manipulated the emotions of the akuma to separate the minions and the main akuma.

 Ladybug is the only one that can be seen in the head to head fight. 

lucky charm of this akuma was yoyo)

[the-river-person]

Falling Down Around You

Sans had been helping the Guard. His shortcuts were one of the most useful things he could provide to the Underground. It was why he’d kept his job as a messenger and mail carrier despite being the Judge, despite being a practicing psychiatrist. He could jump around the Underground in a few minutes, a journey which might take several days depending on which areas you needed to go through. The fastest road might take you from Old Home to the Castle in New Home in a few hours if you ran the whole way and didn’t stop to talk to anyone. But even the Human had originally taken a few weeks to make the whole trip, because they’d been stopped by numerous puzzles, Monsters who wanted to fight them, and even things like buying things at a shop or getting a room at the Inn. A closed down elevator or a blocked tunnel could delay you even longer, and what if you kept being forced down side routes? So if someone needed a message delivered right then and there, they could either send a text or call. But what happened when you needed to deliver something? Or someone? What happened when the person you’re trying to reach wouldn’t answer? The answer was simple. Call someone who can go there in a flash. And of course he’d been happy enough to do it all. Kept things interesting, let him hear news. Occasionally important things would go through from Gaster or the Royals. He’d be the first to hear about Mettaton’s newest shows. It was he who’d been able to congratulate Undyne on her first ever action film even before Alphys could. All the best Undertube videos, the most interesting articles on the Undernet, even plans for new puzzles. He heard about all of it as he zipped back and forth. Tonight however, he’d taken more shortcuts than ever before. First the King and Queen to Snowdin for Isa, then he’d taken them back to the Palace and immediately began transporting to the furthest areas of the Underground. Looking for the most obscure and hidden Monsters to let them know about the King’s order for evacuation. And he’d even helped special cases out for the guard, transporting fire Monsters who couldn’t enter in through the Waterfall Area, or various Monsters from Old Home who couldn’t easily pass through Snowdin Caverns. Then a Guard had asked him to go down to the Lower Waterfall City in the Cliffs and the Outpost below in the Depths to help transport people out so the elevators would be freed up a little. He had to pause and crouch down, his skull nearly level with his knees. Dizziness was making his head feel fuzzy, but he didn’t want to spend too long recovering from it. A real break would be needed soon or he’d regret it. When he had enough strength back he took a shortcut to Gaster’s cave. Asgore and Toriel were up on the platform with Gaster. He headed that way. “Hey Tori,” he said, and she turned with...well... not quite a smile, but more of a flicker of polite recognition. “Have you seen Papyrus?” She shook her head. “I haven’t, but Gaster said he went to inspect the ship, I think he is still on board.” Sans gave a small sigh of relief. Really there hadn’t been too much to worry about. They were trying to hurry with the evacuation because they wanted as much time as possible in case something went wrong or some Monster was missing. And there wasn’t anyone that could really do his bro any harm, or would even want to. But he’d still felt the icy chill of panic throughout this whole thing. Over near the catwalk, Seamus was packing up the last of the recording equipment, with his husband Evan helping him. Mettaton was nowhere to be seen, and Sans decided that the robot had probably either already boarded the ship or was in line somewhere. Or maybe searching for Napstablook. Over the years the two had had a strange friendship, though neither had ever really said how it came about. And the ghost had become somewhat less self depreciating and a little more confident in their abilities. Really their music had been in the top musical hits chart for over a hundred years now, even the newer albums were popular. Even so, Napstablook was still somewhat gloomy, and that was alright. Nobody could ever match the constant energy that Papyrus had. If Napstablook wanted to be a little gloomy and enjoy long periods of solitude, that was their right. Still working at the computers in the section of the cave that served as Gaster’s lab was one of his assistants. Tertia, who was bird-like and hunched over. She poked at the keys in manner that might have seemed like boredom to anyone else, but Sans knew it was just her way. All four of Gaster’s assistants were very strange Monsters. Suddenly the cave shook.  Lights flickered as the very roof of the cave trembled, screams and gasps came from the lines of Monsters waiting to board the ships. Alarms began blaring loudly and little red lights began flashing all over the cave. Gaster whirled round. “What is it? What’s happening?” he demanded of his assistant who was now typing frantically away at the keyboard, trying to find the source. Down below the Monsters were beginning to panic and the Guard was having to step in to keep things from getting out of hand. Tertia gasped, her grey eyes going wide, the most expressive face he’d ever seen on any of the assistants. “It’s the Core! It’s experiencing an overload! It’ll go down in just a few minutes!” Gaster’s mouth fell open in shock. It was only for half a second that he stood there, but with everyone staring at him, waiting for him to carefully explain to them what that meant exactly and what they should do, it seemed like an eternity of waiting. When he finally did move it was neither carefully nor calmly. The scientist threw himself forward towards the ledge looking down on the ship, grabbing the rails to push himself up so that he was right above where the Guards were. “GET EVERYONE ON THE SHIP NOW! DON’T COUNT THEM! JUST BOARD!” Pandemonium ensued. Monsters surged towards the doors of the ship, climbing aboard with the assistance of the Royal Guards, who were doing their best to keep smaller Monsters from being trampled in the chaos. Gaster was halted by Toriel and Asgore who were demanding to know what was happening. But he had no patience for careful explanations. He dove past them and started grabbing files and notebooks off his desk and stuffing everything haphazardly into a briefcase. “It’s the core!” he screeched, almost in hysterics. “If it falls the entire grid will go down. It won’t be enough to kill anyone as long as they aren’t in the machine itself, but the shock wave will be enough to reach this cave. The ship is programmed to open a Rift in the event of an apocalyptic emergency, and it will think this is one!” Glancing behind and seeing their blank expressions he growled in frustration. “Don’t you get it?! If we don’t get on board the ship will leave without us!” That did it, horrified understanding dawned in the eyes of the two Monarchs and they ran for the stairways along with the rest of the crowds. But the lines still stretched out through Waterfall, there were still over 600 Monsters who hadn’t gotten the chance to board yet. Feeling sick to his stomach, Sans wondered for a second what he should do. Shortcuts. He could save some people. Seamus and Evan were making for the stairs as well and he ran to catch up with them. Grabbing their arms he used a shortcut to tear all three of them from their current position in space and onto the ship, where he left them confused and disoriented, and took a shortcut back. Next was Tertia, who was sitting, not moving, in her chair, staring blankly at the computer screen in shock. She didn’t thank him as he handed her over to the Guards in the ship’s hold. He’d gone back for Gaster when he spotted Realis enter the cave looking frantic. Running that way instead he brought the prince into the ship as well. Monsters outside were desperately pushing relatives, especially younger ones, forward. Though there were no real children left after three hundred years, many still appeared to be children, and their parents lifted them high, ignoring their protests, and practically handed them to the Guards, who took them into the ship. Cousins, lovers, and friends were shoved forward, and other Monsters who only had themselves to worry about pushed their way to the front. He saw Papyrus pull a Froggit as well as both Bratty and Catty into the ship all at the same time. Even Monster Kid had leaned back as far as he could to take the tiny Cinnamon with the curl of his tail while Goner helped Cinnamon’s older Sister, Lapina, climb up using his tail.  A tiny yellow bird who had once carried people across a disproportionately small gap was clinging to her fur, terrified out of its mind. Where had Gaster gone to? He spotted Gaster fiddling with the computers, Sans appeared behind him and saw the little storage chip he’d plugged into slot. The Scientist was trying to copy over his research. “Doc! Come on! There’s no time!” And there wasn’t time. The surge from the collapsing Core hit and the cavern shook again and the lights went out, leaving only the ship and it’s power system separate from the main grid still lighting the space. Screaming and panicked shouting rang out and the Monsters nearest to the ship were forced back. The Rift had begun to open up underneath the floor of the cave. Papyrus was looking frantically around the cave, pushing against his own guards as they tried to close the doors for their fall into the Void. “SANS!!!” he screamed. Sans was only a few steps from the edge of the platform, right over the ship. He didn’t think, he only moved. He was already in the air when he realized that Gaster was with him,  having tried to stop him from making the jump and fallen with him. To all those still in the cave it appeared as if a gigantic flat disk of nothingness you couldn’t describe that had no color to speak of but wasn’t black or white and could be seen even in the dark despite not giving off any light had opened up where the floor was supposed to be. The Ship and the pair of falling Monsters seemed to slow and freeze in place, then slowly... without moving, they simply began to fade away as if they had never been. And with them went the strange grey disk that made up the Rift. From San’s point of view the world around him began to warp and twist as if it were being turned inside out. He could still see the Monsters in Gaster’s cave, but instead of the cave being all around him, it was as if the space around him had been turned inside out and shaped into an orb, leaving only the Void around him as he fell away from the orb. It got smaller and smaller until it was gone, and so was the ship. He and Gaster were adrift in the Void.

[hellomynameisbisexual]

“Faggot.” “Cocksucker.” “Femboy.” “Abomination.” Gay. The list of names I’ve been called since coming out as bisexual in June 2020 doesn’t stop there — nor did it stop when I went public with my sexual identity either.

From a young age, I knew I was different from my peers.

Maybe it was the way I walked. Or the way I talked. Or the way I dressed. I just knew I stood out to them like a sore thumb — or perhaps a rainbow of color in a sea of dull gray.

My differences became evident to me when other children at the preschool I attended in suburban San Diego, California, would forsake my company in favor of each other, already forming cliques and inciting drama at such an innocent age.

When my family and I moved to dreary Erie, Pennsylvania, I knew my struggles would only get worse.

Many of the children in my kindergarten class had already known each other for several years before I entered the picture.

They quickly noticed differences in my mannerisms, speech patterns, thoughts and ideas. I wasn’t like the other boys, but I wasn’t like the girls either. I was an outlier, a foreigner and a stranger considered dangerous and unwelcome.

Though I made friends the following few years — including some who would become lifelong companions — most of those primary friendships mirrored the kernels of a neglected ear of corn: delicious when ripe but quick to harden, rot and flake off.

By my fourth grade year, I was teased and bullied nearly daily for being too feminine, too weird, too annoying to fit into my school’s social circles.

When I told my teachers about my struggles, their solution was to attempt to masculinize me by placing me in groups of athletic boys in my class, boys I had nothing in common with and who certainly had nothing in common with me.

Even my grandparents — then and now my caretakers — noticed my un-boyish behavior and enrolled me in the local little league baseball team — whether to also attempt to instill in me a sense of masculinity and male toughness or to help me make new friends I knew not.

I would grudgingly participate in the sport for six, nigh on seven grueling years, never making a single lasting friend and crying almost weekly from the torment it caused me.

Needless to say, I felt like a floundering fish without fins in a sea of angry, hungry sharks during those years.

It wasn’t until the final year of my elementary education that I was introduced to the concepts of puberty, adolescence and sex.

I was told that very soon, I would start noticing the girls in my class and would begin to want to form meaningful relationships with them. Eventually, I would become sexually attracted to them and want to have children with them.

But in those coming years, though many girls would pique my interest, it wasn’t them who ignited the fire in my soul and made me feel the burning passion of desire — it was men.

I quickly realized it was this that set me apart from my male peers and resulted in me being shunned by the girls. I was a boy — soon to be a man — in every physical way, but I wasn’t attracted to or passionate about girls like the other boys in my class were. I was obsessed with men.

But I couldn’t possibly be gay, could I?

Growing up in a household of religious relatives, I was always taught that sex before marriage was a wicked abomination and that being anything but straight was a sin comparable to none.

I distinctly remember watching a news broadcast with my family around the time I was transitioning to my middle school years. The ABC World News clip showcased LGBT marriages being performed out west and contained affirming remarks from then-President Barack Obama on the matter.

“The Bible says marriage is between a man and a woman,” I remember my aunt saying in utter disgust at the television, murmurs of agreement echoing her around the room.

I resolved then to hide my feelings and my pubescent curiosity from my family at all costs, lest I be scolded, shunned or worse: abandoned.

During middle school, I relentlessly dug deep within myself and attempted to alter what I thought was but a simple mental barrier to social normality. All thoughts of being with men were forcibly suppressed in my mind before they could even become tangible, and each of my increasingly urgent bodily needs went ignored and unsatiated.

I even resorted to religion, the only weapon I thought strong enough to aid me in the war raging inside myself.

Day and night, I attempted to “pray the gay away,” but to little avail. Much to my chagrin, I realized that even divine intervention could not “help” me: My homosexuality seemed to be an immortal, malignant tumor infecting each and every one of my thoughts.

Thus, the preliminary years of my second decade of life became miserable and unfulfilling — I was engaged in a fierce battle with an integral aspect of my identity and was inadvertently shattering the chains that bound a beast capable of obliterating every fiber of my cognitive being — anxiety.

By my high school years, men — mean, nasty and indifferent but awe-inspiring, mystifying and oh-so-gorgeous men — had begun to control my deepest, darkest desires and fantasies. My lust had grown large enough to thwart even my most furious attempts at diminishing it.

As I slowly came to terms with the realization that nothing in the universe could “fix” me, my mental situation severely worsened. I fell into a dangerous downward spiral of self-doubt and woefulness.

My relationship with my grandparents quickly began to deteriorate, as did my relationships with my friends. Every day brought with it a new reason to hate my existence — the constant verbal altercations, the continued teasing and even bullying at school, the countless lonely nights spent sobbing quietly into my pillow.

And, to make matters worse, the true nature of my sexuality seemed to express itself in each of my social mannerisms. It wasn’t long before despicable rumors about me spread through the student body of my high school like wildfire.

My teachers noticed my strife, and some took the time to speak with me about a few of the different mental illnesses they suspected I had. But not even they could halt the hordes of horrifying thoughts racing through my head or the string of ruthless comments that would assault me in the hallways.

Soon, however, the light at the end of the long, grueling tunnel that was public education began to shine: I was graduating from high school and about to start fresh. Nothing could have contained my excitement at the prospect of escaping the largest source of my daily torment.

As I digested the freedom going to college offered, idealistic daydreams began to flood my mind — I could live how I wanted with whomever I wanted, and no one could judge me or tell me differently.

How wrong I was.

My first year as an undergraduate student at Penn State Behrend was a living hell.

Though the petty and immature teasing of high school was no longer an issue, standing up for my newfound political identity was, as well as dealing with my growing anxiety.

I was constantly engaged in polite yet heated political debates with those in my dorm. I felt like they were blatantly attempting to oppress me with their own beliefs and had grown to hate me for mine.

The same situation occurred with my grandparents, and we grew increasingly distant over the course of that year.

It didn’t help that I was still “in the closet,” so to speak, and contemplating methods of publicly revealing my true sexual identity. I hadn’t yet officially told anyone I was bisexual, and it remained my most closely guarded secret.

Needless to say, my social circumstances and the added stress of my adjustment to college academics and lifestyle allowed my mental state to reach an unprecedented low. I needed help.

That same year, I saw my family physician and then a psychiatrist, who prescribed me antidepressants in an attempt to lessen my now untameable anxiety. I took them with gusto and also began attending therapy sessions to teach me how to manage my thoughts and emotions.

For a small while, I felt better — I was actually happy in my skin and even happy with my bisexuality.

But then, even my long-awaited mental comfort abandoned me, and I slipped into the deepest, darkest pit of my life.

I became suicidal but never acted on that petrifying potentiality.

I didn’t trust myself to be alone, so I constantly sought the company of others, which only made me feel like a nuisance and waste of time, energy and space.

About a month later — in October 2018 — I got into an accident.

I was barrelling down the highway, escaping a particularly heated verbal altercation with my grandfather. It was raining that day, and the roads were slippery.

Going around a curve, I lost control of my vehicle and flew into a small ravine, flipping not once, not twice but three times in midair before landing upright — dazed, but alive.

Escaping relatively physically unscathed from the incident, with only a broken right clavicle, I was not mentally the same for weeks afterward.

I decided at that time I would come out and reveal my true sexuality at the soonest possible opportunity — I blamed my silence on every terrible situation that had occurred in my life up to that point. If I didn’t come out, I quite literally thought I would die.

Telling even my closest friends was difficult, but I managed, and the relief I felt was paramount to that of the titan Atlas in Greek mythology: I felt like the weight of the entire world — sky and all — had been lifted from my shoulders.

Fast forward to the present: I’m alive, well, out and proud. I’m no longer ashamed of my innate traits or of my thoughts.

Being a bisexual man has taught me many lessons, but foremost among them is that the people who can’t accept me for who and what I am don’t deserve to be in my life.

My anxiety made it difficult to let go of toxic relationships over the years — I learned that the primary source of my mental strife is a fear of abandonment by those I care about — but doing so opened the door to newer, healthier relationships that build me up and boost my confidence instead of chipping away at it.

I’ve since improved tremendously, and not even the onset of the coronavirus pandemic was able to pause my progress. Every day is a learning experience, and I’ve grown so much from the helpless boy I was mere months ago that if you showed me a map of my mentality from 2018, 2019 or even 2020, I wouldn’t recognize myself at all.

Revealing my bisexuality to the world didn’t solve all my issues — there were and still are other factors that contribute to my anxiety and mental health — but coming out was perhaps the most profound, life-altering moment in my 21 years. Nothing compares to the freedom I now enjoy, nor will any other experience compare to the relief I felt following my announcement.

[the-moon-prince]

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter VI

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

I’m glad to deliver the sixth chapter of my story! I want to thank you, from the bottom of my soul, for your support. It really means a lot to me!<3

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story.  (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter III) (Chapter IV )(Chapter V) (Chapter VII coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 449

TW: None!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The buzzing sound of the alarm loaded Kurapika's ears.

This time it was not a "Tic-Tic" sound. It was an unfamiliar tune. Starting with sonsy drums and trumpets. The music was in crescendo with a chorus that sang "love, love, love" until a male voice sang 

"There's nothing you can do that can't be done~"

"Nothing you can sing that can't be sung~"

A cheesy way to start the day. It was different from the rest of his mornings. It felt warm. Only it wasn't the kind of heat he habitually woke up wilting from a nightmare. It was the feeling of homely warmth and tenderness. Remembering the comparable emotion you have when you are unwell and your mother hugs you.

He sensed something twirl beside him, he began to open his somnolent eyes. That fatigue was not the usual either. Instead of a burning and stinging in the eyes, he felt a comfort he didn't want to abandon. The movements continued until they extended to the covers that surrounded him, to ultimately calm and recover a state of calm. The music ceased as well. It wasn't his pillow, it wasn't his bed, and the chamber was alien to him. It surprisingly smelled distinct. The first item he saw when his sight adjusted were frizzy (hair color) (curls/waves/strands). (Y/n) was standing on the left side of the bed. They had a bed-hair. He certainly wanted to see that goofy bed-hair very more often.

"Shhh shhh, sorry I disturbed you."-their voice was crispy.-"Go back to rest, I'll return a touch later to nudge you." 

Kurapika allowed himself to a defeat and laid his head back on the pillow. Some seasons had passed since he had a restful night. He was able to hear the sound of an opening door for it to immediately close, followed by the flow of water. The door was opened again, and an extra further door gave a short crack noise. Kurapika doesn't quite recall how long it lasted, but (Y/n) returned to the room. They placed a cup of hot black coffee on the night table.

"What time is it?"-Kurapika groaned and tried to rejoin.

"Good morning sunshine, and it's 4:23 am"-they answered, sitting in bed with another cup in their hands.

"Why are you doing so early? Not even I arise that betimes."- He stirred early, he had to. But this seemed absurd.

"I must be in the psychiatric ward. I have patients who rely on me. I'll be exiting the home in a moment."-He was shocked at how composed they were, considering the events of the night before. They continued their routine impassively as if nothing disagreeable had occurred.-"Would you desire for me to drive you to the Nostrade mansion?"-(Y/n) suggested to him with a smile. He almost forgot he had to work that day.

"I will get prepared for the moment,"-He sat, resting his back on the bed frame, reaching for the coffee.”And your proposition would be convenient." The caffeine intake helped him shake the drowsiness off his mind.

"I would be amazed to propose to you something to eat, but I only possess chocolate robots at the moment. You don't exactly appear the type of person to have that for breakfast."-they provided an apologetic smile, half-joking half-ashamed.

"Do you ever eat something besides sweets?"-It was agreeable to joke a little in the mornings.

"I ate the flowers you gave me."-(Y/n) answered with the most solemn voice they could deliver. The first time in his 19 years of life that Kurapika heard something of that bearing.

"You ate them?"-Although it was evident that it was not a joke, it seemed so outlandish that he did not see another explanation.

"Yes! Peonies and carnations are edible! Although they taste sweet and fruity. So it might count as sweet." they affirmed smiling.

 Sometimes the sincerity of that person perplexed him. They could say the most unthinkable things in the most sudden moments. Above all, with an enormous naturalness. He even wondered if they were even conscious that they did.

The handy part of sleeping dressed was that getting ready was rather quick. Once he put on the black jacket, the wrinkles on his shirt were hardly noticeable. Though, as much as he would love to stay and talk to (Y/n) all morning, the depart ended up arriving. What if the two of them could skip work with an excuse? It was possible. However, both were stiff with their obligations, so it was not feasible. Kurapika was going to show up pretty early for work, he didn't care if it meant to spend more time with (Y/n).

During most of the voyage, he stared at (Y/n) driving and chatting. 

"You always use the same earrings." He remarked, staring at the drop-shaped pearl pendants dangling from their ears. They turned to see him and agreed.

"You also wear your red earrings every day."-they were getting close to the Nostrade's residency. 

"You're not wrong."-Between spending the day with Neon or with (Y/n), he preferred the latest option by a lot.

"I rarely am, dear. I wish you a good day!"-Kurapika no longer remembered the last time someone wished him a good day in the morning.

 ~

8 pm, another day had passed. If Neon's attitude hadn't improved since the beginning of her therapy, Kurapika had no idea if he would still put up with her whims. Whoever worked for her without attempting against her life was a saint. However, his crusade hadn't ended yet, remote from that. The advantage of that specific job brought was being able to maintain close contact with the flesh trafficking industry. Kurapika was finally exiting through the vast gate of the Nostrade mansion. Being able to get to work on his vendetta again.

"Kurapika!"- a voice he knew fully squealed. He turned in the direction it came from, to make sure it wasn't a dream. He had his suspicions about working for Neon for so long that it gave him some variety of brain damage. Luckily not. It was (Y/n), running towards his direction, nearly stumbling in the middle of the path. If they were coming to him like that, something serious must have happened.

"(Y/n)! What are you doing here?! What happened?! Aren't you supposed to be on guard? Why didn't you call me? "-the blonde interrogated packed with worry.

They were panting laboriously, as they inclined on their legs to catch their breath and raised their index asking for a moment. 

"I'm presumably to be on my pause, plus you weren't answering your cell phone..."-their face was darker due to the lack of oxygen-"I received information regarding a pair."- they murmured to be prudent. To avoid malicious overhears, they continued their chat in the car. 

"I had a proposal from an acquaintance to purchase a pair of scarlet eyes!

The only setback is that it has to be tonight because he has another interested. For my part, with the ward, I'm available. I told the nurses that I would use my recess and would be back."- It was explicit that (Y/n) had already taken charge of organizing the plan so that it could be implemented immediately.-"Reasonably, I haven't confirmed the purchase yet. As the principal concerned I judged proper to tell you first."

"This is a fabulous opportunity, thank you (Y/n). Confirm our attendance."

It was agreed that the purchase would take place at 9 o'clock, In a black market shop located in YorkNew's downtown. The pair would cost 1,450,000 Jennys.

Although the connections and information of (Y/n) were trustworthy and had been valuable until the present day, Kurapika still wanted more information regarding the plan. He wanted to prioritize their safety.

"Where do you know the individual from?"- Kurapika hinted, trying to obtain information without directly doubting the references.

"I have... I've purchased articles from him before.  I am a frequent customer, he maintains me abreast of his inventory as well as offers."- they informed.-"In those commerces, information travels at great speed. As I've been seeking information on the scarlet eyes, he found out."-He could then conclude it was a credible provider.

Since the dilemma was solved, he could ease a bit.-"In the first instance, when I listened to your voice, I believed I was hallucinating, and working for Neon for a prolonged amount of time had caused me brain damage!"-Kurapika laughed

"Oh! But it's plausible."-they did not understand it was merely a joke-"Chronic Stress produces autophagia in neural stem cells. Normally autophagia is a process to protect cells from unfavorable conditions through the digestion of inner cell materials. However, under certain circumstances, this survival method degenerates into self-destruction. Essentially, the neural cells commit suicide, concluding in brain damage. Plus, chronic stress enhance the risk of neurodegenerative diseases like Alzheimer's disease."-It sometimes was bothersome to date a psychiatrist...-"Even if it was only a pun, I'm a tad concerned about you, Kurapika."-At the end, they got the joke, they were just being a doctor. 

Kurapika couldn't decide whether to be frustrated for his joke or flattered that (Y/n) cared so much about him. 

~

At the accorded place an hour, they entered the shop. An old man with big glasses and a suit greeted them.

"Mx. (Y/n)! It's always pleasant to see one of my favorite customers!"-his voice was croaky and rusty.-"I'm glad you accepted the offer."

The elder was very polite towards (Y/n).

"Helle Mr. Richard, I may say the same. I brought Kurapika with me, my bodyguard,"-the same strategy as the previous times.-" he will accompany us."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr.Kurapika."-the rusty voice spoke once more.-"Since we are dealing with a more elegant object, it is stored in the back room. Be so kind to accompany me there."- the so-named Richard pointed at a big wooden door at the back of the store as he directed it. 

He opened the door for them after they were all inside, closed the door again. Richard sat at the end of a big ornamented oak desk. There were also oak chairs with padding on the other side of the desk. The man motioned for them to sit down. He continued to pull out the vials with the pair of scarlet eyes.

"Both of you can confirm that they are authentic. And the agreed price was 1,450,000 Jennys"-The white-haired senior placed the vials in the middle of the table and reached out his hand, waiting for the money.

(Y/n) took out of their customary side-bag an envelope to deliver it with both hands. The elder took it and pulled out the cash and began to count. All the actions were carried upon the table and in the view of all presents.

"Everything is perfect, as always. Thanks, always a pleasure to do business with you Mx-" 

The sentence was interrupted by a loud crash.

The wooden door had been knocked down, and a group of armed men began to enter the place. With the loud noise (Y/n) swiftly took the vials with the scarlet eyes and pressed them protectively.

"What is happening here, what is this intrusion into my establishment?!"-Richard exclaimed, his voice sounding even rustier.

"These two attacked one of the associates some time ago."- One of the men, presumably the head of the gang, spoke. He had a sloppy beard and reeked of cheap tobacco. He also had a disastrous taste for fashion. He wore a tacky shirt with half the buttons unbuttoned, garish orange fishnets that didn't match at all, and a vulgar red hanky that was sticking out of his shirt's pocket.

"Both of you, don't move. The information runs around here."-the men approached to talk directly to Kurapika and (Y/n).-"We learn that a pale man with blond straight hair wearing a suit and a (skin/color) person with (hair color) (curly/wavy/straight) hair who dressed pretentiously with flowers, both searching for scarlet eyes, attacked one of our sellers. What do you think, we were not going to find you?"-the pestilence was even more intense up close.-"The boss is not far away. You'll see, duo of idiots."

The situation was complicated, Kurapika couldn't use most of his chains if it wasn't against the Spiders. (Y/n) could only use Misericordiae, since they did not know the attackers adequately to use their distinct technique. Plus with the one they had available, they couldn't kill. There was the possibility of a melee attack. Only it was the least viable option. Kurapika would have to use his scarlet eyes or (Y/n) use their feline form. It involved putting their identities in jeopardy, and they still didn't know if the circumstance was desperate to get to that point. The best choice was to divert the group of men to head to the window and jump to escape. The reversal was that to minimize the damage from the shattered glass, they would have to shield themselves with both arms. 

"(Y/n), leave the eyes. I'll use my Dowsing Chain to move the enemies aside and leave by the window."-Kurapika bossed after a moment of reflection. It was still the option with the highest probability of success.

"No, these eyes belong with you. I'm not leaving without them."-(Y/n) growled. They had a look of pure completion, almost as if that judgment contained all their credos compressed.- 

Kurapika couldn't avoid conjuring "This is the worst moment to unleash their stubbornness."-"(Y/n), listen to me!"-he was starting to lose his patience.

"No! I have an approach. Trust me please."-(Y/n) glanced down at their left hand, laced with white ribbon. It was gradually diffusing across the carpet. 

Before any action could be taken, a man, much properly dressed-The leader of the deluded men's ball, most likely.- entered the room yelling with a deep crusty voice and a foreign intonation.

"Okay pack of idiots. That in the end, you did your silly duty. Where are the two rats?".-The man was flat and plump. He was middle-aged, with a round face, almost bald. He was dressed in a semi-formal, dark gray suit:  he wore a geometric patterned tie and matching tissue in his vest's pocket. He entered taking big steps and turned to Kurapika and (Y/n).

At the moment he saw them, his eyes widened, and voiced full of shock.

"(Y/n)?!"

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 5

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Expert

The subsequent calm was something Lin Yan wasn't expecting. The thing seemed to have decided it tortured him enough and nothing else happened the rest of the night. Lin Yan changed back into his clothes and unplugged his computer. Even though he knew that that probably wouldn't do anything, the screen actually powered off and didn't come back on at all in the night.

Perhaps a new storm was brewing in the silence, but Lin Yan was too exhausted to worry about it. The alcohol that was left in his system worked as a great tranquillizer, and he rolled over and fell asleep.

While he was deep in sleep, something cold pressed itself on his lips again, but Lin Yan was too much a heavy sleeper to realize it.

When he woke up, the entire room was clean. All the red paint had disappeared, the light gray printed wallpaper and the screen wall painted by the students of the Academy of Fine Arts were intact, and the glass was spotless. There was no other evidence to prove that the absurdity of last night had ever happened except for the shameful traces of liquid on Lin Yan's body and clothes. He took a bath and threw the red clothes into the washbowl. Compared with the power of the invisible thing, he was clearly at a disadvantage. Instead of running around without a plan, it was better to observe what happens as things unravel.

After he finished packing things up, Lin Yan took out his phone and texted Yin Zhou about the meeting place. Unexpectedly, he got a reply almost instantly: See you at the school gate in half an hour.

Lin Yan looked at himself in the mirror. Within just two nights, he looked like he had been doing drugs for years, he had a scruffy stubble growing, and his eyes were red. The mint scent of his shaving foam made Lin Yan feel for the first time that his typically monotonous life was actually so much more beautiful than that. The blade was thin and sharp. Just one long stroke across his neck and there would be nothing left.

Humans were such fragile creatures.

"Shit. . ." Lin Yan hissed, sighing at his unfortunate luck and put his fingers under the water. His hand had slipped and he sliced his fingertip on the blade, red blood seeping out. Lin Yan wrapped a bandaid around his finger, leaning against the wall and pondering about how unlucky it was to feel the pain.

He didn't know what kind of dye was used on the funeral clothes, but it had bled dramatically in the water. After a while, the whole basin of water had been dyed red. Lin Yan glanced at it in disgust as he left and slammed the door shut.

At 8 o'clock, Lin Yan saw Yin Zhou holding a Scallion pancake and some fruit in front of the school gate.

The two of them regretted trying to drive. The roads were clogged with morning rush hour traffic to the point that they couldn't even see the end of the lines of cars. What genius designed this kind of urban roundabout? Five ring roads surrounded the main road and they were forced to convene together every morning and night.

Lin Yan and Yin Zhou were nearing the third ring road and they still didn't have any temper, so all they could do was turn on the radio and eat the breakfast that Yin Zhou brought.

"A 13-year-old boy from a remote village in Sichuan was found hanged at home wearing a red coat. The locals suspected it was most likely cult-related. It is reported that the boy's time of birth and time of death are both extremely negative times and very suitable for. . ."

Lin Yan snapped the radio off.

It seemed that everything in the world had been messed up overnight. Even this kind of unreliable news could be relayed to the public.

Yin Zhou didn't care. He swallowed the last bite of his pancake and hiccuped. He said with satisfaction: "I spent the rest of the night in the library. I was starving and I couldn't buy anything. It's great to feel full."

"There was no exam recently, what were you doing at the library?"

"I was studying the enemy's intelligence. This enemy works in the dark. Can we defeat it if we understand how it operates? What do you think, buddy?"

Lin Yan turned his face to look at the crowded traffic outside the window. He stayed silent for a while before he said softly, "Do you really believe that there are ghosts in this world? I feel like something is wrong with me. Maybe I should see a psychiatrist first."

Yin Zhou's eyes widened in surprise: "Come on, even if something's up with you, I'm totally normal, yet we both saw those clothes yesterday."

". . . At your house the day before yesterday, I was the only one who thought it was cold, and I was the only one who could feel ‘it’ in the house."

Lin Yan sorted out his thoughts and told Yin Zhou his experience of being choked by someone last night.

Lin Yan wasn't expecting it but Yin Zhou exploded after hearing this, and blurted out: "Fuck, that ghost was a rabbit master* during his lifetime?" He scanned Lin Yan's face over and over again: "Little Brother Lin, don't tell me. . . you can be considered a nice-looking guy if you look closely. He's dead and maybe he's lonely and wants to recruit you as his wife."

*because they would kill the rabbit by snapping its neck

"Fuck you. If you aren't going to be serious, get out of my car and leave. Don't forget to burn two boxes of condoms for me when I croak." Lin Yan said quietly. The car behind him honked its horn twice, and Lin Yan realized that while he was talking, a 5-6 metre gap had cleared in front of him. He hurriedly followed the line of traffic.

"Furthermore, in the middle of the night, I obviously saw that the whole house was covered with red paint, but in the morning there was nothing. It was as if I had been dreaming."

Yin Zhou dragged the backpack out of the back seat and hugged it in his arms. He said, "Hey, let me show you the results of my brother's research." As he talked, he opened his bag and took out a dozen crumpled papers from it and spread them out on his knees. He flattened them with his hands and started going over them from top to bottom.

"You can't take care of shit. I feel uncomfortable just looking at those."

"See, the attributes of a wife. This ghost saw it perfectly."

A grass mud horse roared and ran across Lin Yan's heart.

Sure enough, these geeks are something else.

"Listen carefully." Yin Zhou pushed up his glasses with his long fingers: "There are generally two modern interpretations of ghosts. The first is due to the discovery of dark matter. You know the law of conservation of energy?"

". . . Go on." Lin Yan gave him a blank look.

"The universe expands at a certain rate every year. If the law of conservation of energy goes as normal, where does the energy that supports the expansion of the universe come from? According to this question, modern physics puts forward the concept of dark matter and dark energy. It does not generate electromagnetic waves, cannot be sensed, and cannot be measured. The law of gravity estimates that dark matter and energy account for 96% of the mass of the universe, and the remaining 4% is what humans can now recognize."

"Many unexplainable phenomena are therefore attributed to the results of dark matter, such as meridians in traditional Chinese medicine, the power of the mind, and ghosts. There are many discussions on this field abroad, but it is obviously blocked in China and difficult to find." Yin Zhou spread out his hands.

Lin Yan nodded. This was a bit like a science fiction novel he had read once.

"And the second one?"

"The second type is attributed to electromagnetic waves. The environment in which the deceased died is not conducive to electromagnetic wave attenuation. The powerful thoughts it had before death form a unique energy field. If a person's own frequency is similar to it, it will resonate when they come into contact. The waveform of the original ghost is greatly strengthened so then the two can sense each other."

Lin Yan was stunned: "You mean I. . . resonate with the ghost?"

Yin Zhou said indifferently that it was possible. He turned and smiled mysteriously: "Do you know how to explain love at first sight using electromagnetic fields?"

Lin Yan's heart stuttered.

"It's just resonating. It's the same with both men and women."

Yin Zhou sighed: "I don't want to fall in love for a while. It's boring, it's like a ghost."

The cars finally started moving again, and they finally got off the third road ring after being stuck for three hours. Lin Yan turned on the navigation and stepped on the accelerator to hurry towards the destination.

He always thinks that love was just like a ghost; he didn't believe in either. He only understood the panic and anxiety he felt when he encountered it, but he has never imagined that ghosts were also like love, triggered by a specific reason in a specific environment and dragged forcibly into the abyss, unable to escape.

"Have you been in touch with anything special recently, or have you been to anywhere special?"

Lin Yan thought about it for a moment and shook his head: "No. Every day I'm in the study room, tutor's office, library, home, cafeteria, there's nowhere else. But I have come into a lot of contact with lots of things from several dynasties."

Yin Zhou clumped the pile of information in his hand, and put it into back his backpack despite Lin Yan's contemptuous eyes, and clicked the buckle shut.

"Impossible. The electromagnetic waves would have decayed early in a small object, even if the Maoshan technique was used."

A thought suddenly flashed through Lin Yan's mind.

"There was this one place. . .Last month, my old man arranged an internship position for me on an archaeological team. It was a tomb with small specifications. I was there for less than a week."

Yin Zhou's eyes lit up all of a sudden: "There's this show, we should wait and check it. . . what the fuck!"

Lin Yan slammed on the brakes. Yin Zhou's head slammed into the windshield with a bang, and he wailed in pain.

"What are you doing?! Braking like that is going to kill you. What if we got rear-ended?!"

Lin Yan looked at the empty windshield in shock. He pulled the car over and, when he turned to Yin Zhou, his face changed.

"You. . . didn't see that just now?"

"What!" Yin Zhou took off the glasses that had been knocked off-kilter, trying to push them into their original spot, and couldn't help complaining in grief.

"There was a hand. . . stretching down from the roof of the car."

Yin Zhou was stunned and looked up at the window glass cautiously. A truck came up from behind, went around their car and drove on.

Lin Yan was too scared to speak for a while. He recalled the stiff white hand that had slapped on the windshield from the roof of the car just now, but it disappeared in a blink of an eye. There were speeding trucks or tankers everywhere on the sixth ring road. He opened his mouth and looked at Yin Zhou. The other party understood his thoughts immediately. Yin Zhou took a breath and hesitated: "Then this thing. . . it wants a human life."

Lin Yan shook his head. He always felt that there was some motive behind everything that had happened, but he couldn't say it out loud.

They drove out of the city in a blink of an eye. The endless rows of poplar trees and the green border fields in the suburbs relaxed the tension of the two people in the car a lot. Lin Yan rolled down the car window, and the car air mixed with the fragrance of flowers and plants that poured in. Inside the car, the stuffy scent of the pancakes was blown away.

After the twist and turns the GPS took them on, the car turned onto a rugged path paved with stones. The surrounding buildings were replaced with independent bungalows and small farmyards. A yellow dog squatted on the steps and stretched its neck. Some hens gathered in groups lazily together. Every now and again, they passed by a white goose on the side of the road. Lin Yan slowed down and stared at the map displayed on the GPS. He glanced at Yin Zhou distrustfully.

"If I keep going, I'll have to turn around to go back to the village. Did your mother send us to a reclusive expert?"

Yin Zhou leaned over to study the map, then turned his head in confusion and looked out the window. He happened to pass by a house, a yellow mud bungalow, with a faded couplet on the door. The old man in front of it only lost two front teeth, and he was leaning back to watch the excitement. . Yin Zhou scratched his scalp suspiciously: "The address my mother gave is at the end of the village, and she said it was amazing. Let me buy some tributes to bring with me. I can't do it alone."

So Lin Yan stopped the car when passing by the market, and bought two gifts according to Yin Zhou's suggestion. . . that bastard.

"Are you sure about all this?" Lin Yan looked embarrassedly left and right, carrying a live turtle in one hand and walking back, Yin Zhou happily pointed at the turtle's head and said, "What do you know? , These kinds of psychic masters rely on this stuff to keep up with their lifestyle. Trust me."

Lin Yan threw the two bastards into the trunk, took out a bottle of mineral water and handed it to Yin Zhou. He also opened a bottle for himself and took a few sips.

The country cicadas cried one after another, and the green wheat was headed; it was a wonderful scene of peace and prosperity.

Several children wearing red and green were squatting on the ground playing fan cards not far away. Lin Yan asked Yin Zhou: "What did your mother saw that name of the expert was? I'll ask around."

He couldn't help but imagine a scene of a bamboo hut with a mantle drooping in front of the porch. An old man in white with his hand stroked his beard and smiled slightly. He and Yin Zhou knelt forward on one knee, clasping their fists and begging, "Master, please guide me!"

Yin Zhou took a note from his pocket. He squinted at it, and said perplexedly: "Second Immortal Gu."

Before Lin Yan had enough time to swallow, all the water was spat back out.

"Ahem. . . is that so?"

In a small courtyard in the northeast corner of the village, Lin Yan and Yin Zhou found the legendary Second Immortal Gu’s house. When Lin Yan saw Second Immortal Gu's respectable face from outside the door, the regret in his heart was like torrential rapids. There was an enclave in an empty black room; he didn't know which god was being worshipped. An old woman in blue flower cloth sat cross-legged on the futon with her eyes closed and rests her mind. The red cloth strip that was tied to her forehead was quite imposing.

"This posture rivals some of the best dancers out there!" Yin Zhou pointed at the scene inside and couldn't help muttering softly.

"Come on, this is who your mother mentioned. Be respectful." Lin Yan said embarrassedly.

"What should we do?"

"Let's take a look first. Maybe the real person hasn't shown up."

Lin Yan and Yin Zhou walked through the door. Hearing the movement, the immortal woman lifted her eyelids slightly, and hummed from her nose aimlessly.

"Oh, ahem. . ." Yin Zhou couldn't hold back his grin and quickly concealed it with a cough.

What happened later was a farce. After receiving the turtle and two hundred yuan brought by Lin Yan, the woman suddenly became energetic. She worshipped the gods with incense and poured a bowl of clear water on Lin Yan while muttering words. After turning around Lin Yan more than ten times, she finally opened his eyes sharply. Lin Yan was so frightened by her that his body was shocked. The only thing she did was shout: "Aha! I saw it!"

"There is a little girl standing behind you!"

Lin Yan and Yin Zhou looked at each other, each holding their breaths.

"Oh, this baby girl died terribly. She said that she was locked up and could not be born. She didn't have money to buy clothes, and she didn't have money to pay her way through death. That's why she's gotten involved with you. . ."

"Wait, I'll ask her how to resolve this. . ."

The immortal woman closed her eyes and began to sing. Lin Yan pointed at the door to Yin Zhou and said: "Do you need someone to grease your feet, what are you waiting for?"

After reciting a long list of words, she opened her eyes and saw that there were no longer two other people in the room.

The immortal woman had no choice but to touch the newly collected two hundred yuan and shook her head, muttering that the young people nowadays are really impatient. Then she staggered around to pack her things up.

When she picked up the bastard turtle, she couldn't help but give a long sigh.

[kayluh1915]

Beautiful People

Paring(s): Pedro Pascal/Female Reader

Words: 5,378

Warnings: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Disorder, Medication Discussions, Insecurities, and Panic Attacks.

You and Pedro have been secretly dating for a few months now after a chance meeting. You both agreed that it was time to reveal your relationship to the public and chose to do so by accompanying him at The Oscars, but your anxiety does a great job of making you think that you don't deserve it.

DISCLAIMER!

This story is based on the song Beautiful People by Ed Sheeran & Khalid, but this IS NOT a songfic. It just gave me this vibe of Pedro walking down the red carpet with someone who doesn't quite feel like they belong and he comforts her by saying he doesn't really belong either and proceeds to list why they're better off because of it. I dunno, It just sounded sweet.

As always, comments are welcomed and encouraged.

You can also follow me on Twitter if you'd like. My life is boring, but I might be able to make you laugh if I’m lucky.

Enjoy!

(PS: Pepe is a real person. He was my Spanish teacher my first semester of college... and yes, he really went to Cincinnati every Friday to gamble)

Read on AO3

My Masterlist

The frigid February air was like icicles on your skin, sending a full-blown shiver down your spine as you hurried out of the Science building and towards the dining hall. It was nearly noon and you’ve had only had a banana and a bottle of water this morning, so lunch sounded pretty great right about now… maybe a cup of hot cocoa as well.

The dining hall was about a three-minute walk from the Science building, more than enough time for the cold to seep through the layers of your coat and deep into your bones. The possibility of a cup of cocoa turned into an inevitability, you running for the hot beverage machine as soon as your student ID was swiped.

You sat at your usual spot, hanging your backpack on the back of the chair before taking a greedy sip of the hot drink. The warmth was a godsend, the sugary beverage warming your icy hands with a pleasant hum tumbling from your lips.

“You make noises like that in bed?” Someone asked, snapping you out of your warming daze. It was your roommate and closest friend, Lauren. You snorted at her remark, almost spitting out a sip of your drink.

“I thought you had Spanish class at noon?”

“Nah. It’s Friday, remember?”

“Oh yeah, gambling day.” Like you, Lauren was a music student. It was how you had met nearly four years ago. Like most music students, you both used the extra humanities credits you had earned in high school to bail you out of the required foreign language credit until university. You were doing fairly well so far, but it was because you had a decent teacher. She wasn’t the best, but she was alright.

Lauren’s was just… something else.

On the first day of class, he told his students to call him “Pepe” because he didn’t do the “formal shit.” He also said that there would never be a class on Friday’s because he goes up to Cincinnati to gamble with his buddies. Why he didn’t just put down that his classes were only on Monday and Wednesday were beyond you.

“Yeah. Whatever, though right?” Lauren continued. “I’m not complaining about one less day of class.” You smirked mischievously.

“No, but your Spanish is…” Lauren scoffed, only causing you to laugh harder into your cup.

“Bitch, you shut the fuck up. You can’t speak the damn language either.” You shrugged.

“You’re not wrong, but at least I’m learning more than you are with Pepe.” Lauren groaned.

“Fuck you. Come on, let’s grab some grub.” You stood up and grabbed your backpack, throwing away your empty drink cup to grab something to eat. You settled on your usual favorite and sat back down with Lauren who had somehow already made it halfway through her plate.

“God, slow down.” You teased as you hung your backpack back on the chair.

“I didn’t eat breakfast this morning. Cut a bitch a break.” You shook your head, digging into your own plate, but at a much slower pace. You both sat in comfortable silence, enjoying your meals as the indecent chatter of the surrounding students and meme music playing from the jukebox continued on.

“So,” Lauren said, breaking the silence as she sat down her drink. “What are you doing this weekend?” You froze at her question but played it off the best you could. Any hint of hesitation would send her into a frenzy of questions that you weren’t prepared to answer.

“I’m going in to see Mom. Maybe stop by my Mamaw’s too.” Lauren’s shoulders slumped.

“Damn, that’s too bad. Devon invited us over to his Oscar watch party tomorrow night. Figured you might want to come along since you’re into that sort of thing.” 

You swallowed hard at the mention of The Oscars. Just play it cool… don’t. fucking. panic.

“Normally I would, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen Mom. You know how she gets when I don’t come to visit for a while.” Lauren nodded her head in understanding, knowing full well of how your Mom was after living with you for two years.

Little did she know that you had just seen your mother last weekend.

“I understand, boo. I’ll let him know you can’t make it. When are you leaving?”

“As soon as I’m done here. I packed my stuff this morning so I could just go. Trying to beat the traffic as much as possible.” She nodded in understanding.

“Well, I hope you have a good time with your Mom. Say hi to her for me, will you?” You internally sighed a breath in relief. How your big mouth managed to keep him a secret all this time let alone this was beyond you, but you managed to pull it off somehow.

“Yeah, sure.”

After you finished eating, you hugged Lauren goodbye and went back to your dorm long enough to drop off the books you didn’t need and pick up your suitcase. You went through your mental checklist one last time and locked your door behind you as you left.

You unlocked your car and threw your stuff into the backseat, making your way towards the interstate as soon as you left the college.

Home was about a two or three-hour drive down south, but where you were really going was about a 40-minute drive north. You put on some music as you cruise down the interstate, your nervousness slowly increasing the closer you got to your destination.

Your hands shook on the steering wheel, you bounced your left knee furiously, and you were biting your lip… pretty hard. You thought about reaching into your purse for the “take as needed” anxiety medication your psychiatrist prescribed you but decided to hold off on it a little longer. Maybe it’d taper off when you got to the airport.

It didn’t.

You had flown before, but that had been years ago when your micro home town had some kind of festival thing and gave free airplane rides. This commercial airline stuff was something entirely new to you which was already nerve wreaking, but the unexpected bustle of such a smaller airport made it worse.

Weeks before when you first booked the flight to Los Angles, you did as much research as possible to make sure that you knew the “norms” and guidelines of all the airports you were going to since there were no direct flights available. You were as prepared as anyone could be, but you were still extremely nervous and all the foot traffic only made it worse.

You went through security without any qualms and took a seat to wait for your flight to begin boarding. You pulled out your phone and texted your Mom and Lauren before someone walked up to you in your peripheral.

“Excuse, miss?” You looked up from your phone to come face to face with an older gentleman. He looked to be in his early 50’s with salt and peppered hair and a kind smile. He asked you your name and you confirmed with a nod.

“Sorry to disturb you, but your private flight is prepared to depart whenever you’re ready, Miss.”

...Excuse you, what?

“P-Private flight? But I-... I paid for an American Airlines flight.” The man nodded.

“Yes, but Mr. Pascal has sent a private jet to retrieve you. He was fairly insistent to make sure that you boarded.” You sighed heavily. You told him that a two-stop economy flight that you paid for was more than fine, but the thought of you doing anything like a normal person seemed to bother him for some reason.

“Okay. I-I guess I’m ready to go then.” The man smiled.

“Of course, Miss. May I take your bags for you?” You hesitated.

You had never been waited on like this before and you weren’t quite sure how to feel or respond to it. You were perfectly capable of carrying your own stuff and this guy probably wasn’t getting paid enough to carry some lucky college student’s stuff, but was it rude to say no even if you did so in a polite manner? So, you just agreed and handed him over your suitcase and backpack.

You followed him outside and over to a small commercial jet, a woman who looked to be around her mid 30’s standing right by the entrance of the aircraft.

“Welcome aboard, Miss. I’m Kendall Bishop and I’m your captain for today. If you’ll go ahead and take a seat and buckle your seat belt, we’ll depart shortly. I do ask, however, that you remain seated and keep your seat belt fastened until Mr. Clements informs you that it is safe to move about the cabin. Do you have any questions for me before we begin our descent?”

You smiled politely at her and shook your head.

Upon entering the cabin, you were at a complete loss for words. It was easily the fanciest thing you’d ever seen. Leather seats, stocked alcohol shelves, an endless assortment of snacks, a TV, even a fucking bed of all things. The man, Mr. Clements you assumed, gestured towards the seat closest to you. You sat down and buckled your seat belt like you were told to do.

Mr. Clements then reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope, gesturing for you to take it.

“Mr. Pascal requested I hand this to you as soon as you board.” You took the envelope out of his hands, looking down at it with a curious gaze. On the back of it had your name scribbled onto it in familiar handwriting. You’d know it anywhere after reading so many letters from him.

“Please enjoy your flight and let us know if there’s anything we can do for you.” You thanked him with another nod, turning the envelope around and tearing it open. The plane prepared to take off as you read.

Mi Abeja,

I know you wanted and paid for a normal flight, but the academy offered to fly you to me privately last second. I was going to ask you if you were okay with it, but you were in class and your phone was off and I had to let them know something before my table read this morning. You work and study so hard and deserve to be pampered so I told them yes. They reimbursed what you paid for your ticket and I’ll give that to you once you get here.

I hope the unexpected change didn’t spike your anxiety too much. I know you’re nervous about this whole thing to begin with and I probably just made it worse. I’m sorry if I did.

 I’ll be there to pick you up as soon as you land at LAX.

Love you,

Pedro. <3 <3 

Your heart soared at his words, leaning back in your seat and looking out of the nearby window just in time to watch the plane lift up from the runway.

________________________

Four hours later, Mr. Clements informed you that you would be landing shortly. Your heart leaped up in your chest as you put your phone back into your backpack and fastened your seat belt.

It had been a few weeks since you’d last seen him and you were nearly vibrating with excitement by the time the wheels touched down on the runway. Mr. Clements offered to take your things again. You still weren’t sure if it was rude to turn him down or not and you didn’t want to ask and risk looking like a moron, so you agreed and handed over your backpack.

The captain opened up the door and exchanged pleasantries with you as you stepped off the plane, but you barely heard her over the pounding of your own heart. As soon as you looked up from the ramp, you saw him. He was there just like he promised he’d be, standing by his car and wearing his favorite pair of sunglasses all while smiling at you with that blinding smile.

Your sneakers barely touched the tarmac before you were sprinting for him. He held out his arms for you and made a small sound when you collided with him, wrapping your arms around his neck and laying your head on his chest. One of his hands caressed the back of your head, holding you to him tightly as the other one held on to your waist.

“I’ve missed you so much, Abeja.” He muttered against the crown of your head. You let go of him long enough to reach up and kiss him, tangling your hand into his dark curls. “Did you have a good flight?” He asked after you pulled away.

“I did. I was a little nervous at first, but I’m okay now.” Pedro gave you a saddened look.

“I’m sorry. I know it was unexpected and didn’t mean to hike you up, I just figured yo-” You put your hand over his mouth.

“It wasn’t your fault, Pedro. I’m just… not used to this… any of it.” He placed a gentle kiss to your fingers, taking your wrist into his hand and gently taking it off of his mouth.

“Please tell me you at least ate something.“ You nodded.

“I ate with Lauren before I left for the airport. She actually invited me to an Oscar watch party this guy named Devon is hosting. I played it cool just like we practiced, but it took everything in me not to freak out.” Pedro giggled, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Isn’t she in for a surprise?” You barely smiled, nodding gently. You’ve been trying not to think about it, but the idea of you being on display to the entire world made your stomach churn and your knees weak. You were just a first-generation college student from the middle of nowhere, yet here you are in the arms of Pedro Pascal about to walk down the runway of the most prestigious award show in less than 24 hours.

“... Yeah.” You eventually answered. Pedro noticed the change in your demeanor and frowned, placing a kiss on the wrist he was still holding and caressing it gently with his thumb.

“We don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to, you know? We can always go with plan B.” You shook your head vigorously.

“No, no, no! I-I want people to know… I just… all so new.” Pedro smiled at you sympathetically, brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face.

“Just promise you’ll let me know if it ever becomes too much for you. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.” You look up into his mocha gaze, the butterflies in your stomach making you forget about your self-doubt if only for a few seconds.

“I promise.”

________________________

That evening you were curled up with Pedro in the hotel bed, empty take-out containers discarded onto the nearby nightstand as you watched The Shining together. He was fully engrossed in the movie, his fingers idly playing with your hair. You had tried to focus on the movie. You really did, but you’ve seen the damn thing a million times. Laughing at memes on Reddit sounded more appealing so that’s what you were doing.

“You know, I really miss you when you’re not with me.” Pedro said after a while. You looked up from your phone and up at his face.

“I miss you too. Music school sucks and I can’t cuddle Lauren… well, I can but it would be awkward.” Pedro laughed, caressing your cheek with his knuckle.

“Tomorrow, our stylists will be here around noon. I know you’re going to be nervous all day and will probably avoid eating, so I’m going to make sure you get up with me and eat a proper breakfast.” You groaned quietly.

“You won’t let me sleep in? Even on a Saturday?” You fake-pouted. Pedro tapped your nose gently with his finger.

“Not when tomorrow is such an important day. I don’t want you nervous on an empty stomach.” You both went back to what you were doing for a minute.

“You did bring your medication, didn’t you?” You hesitated before nodding.

“Yes.”

“Good. You’ll have something in case it gets too intense. Getting you to take it will be another story, though.” You didn’t say anything, favoring instead to raise up from your reclined position to swing your leg over his waist to straddle him. His hands instantly went to your hips, gently caressing them with his large hands.

“You’re so beautiful, Abeja.” He said after a while of looking you over and running his hands over your body. You smiled at him and leaned down to give him a kiss. It was pretty standard as far as kisses go, but when you pulled away you were both looking at one another with a fiery intent and slowly went back in for another. This one searing and far more passionate.

Pedro groaned deep in his throat as your tongues collide, the kiss deepening far beyond your original intent.

You weren’t complaining.

________________________

Pedro’s alarm going off scared the living hell out of you. You had been awake since 4 am, trying your best to go back to sleep, but it just never happened. When you finally gave up around 6:30, you grabbed your backpack and sat at the desk the hotel provided and did your weekend homework. You hadn’t realized that you were that engrossed in it until his alarm buzzed you out of it.

He groaned quietly and reached over to silence it, rolling back over and reaching out to the other side of the bed looking for you. When he noticed that you were gone, he raised up from the sheets and looked around the room. His hair was an absolute nightmare, sticking up in various directions as he stretched out his back and yawned loudly.

“Thought you wanted to sleep in.” He teased after he found you at the desk.

“You said you were going to wake me up early. Figured I might get some work done.” Concern then donned on his brow.

“Honey, how long have you been up?”

“Not long,” you lie. “I wanted to get some work done so I just got up at my usual time.” Pedro got out of bed and padded over to you, rubbing your shoulders and placing a kiss atop your head.

“You work too hard. You should take a break while you can.” You lolled your head back, Pedro’s hands rubbing your shoulders feeling absolutely amazing.

“I’ll do whatever you say as long as you keep doing that.” He laughed, kissing your cheek and heading to the bathroom.

________________________

You didn’t want to question the professional, you really didn’t. But after the third layer of concealer, you just had to.

“That’s a lot of concealer.” The makeup artist laughed.

“I know, I’m sorry. Use some cream for those bags next time and I promise you won’t need as much.”

You didn’t speak after that, allowing the hair and makeup artist to finish you up while they gossiped back and forth with each other. They made other side comments like that to you here and there. They weren’t necessarily rude so you couldn’t really say anything, but they did little for your already rock-bottom self-esteem.

The artist put a dark shade of lipstick on your lips, making a triumphant noise when she finished.

“Didn’t have the best canvas, but you look fabulous sweetheart! Smile with your mouth closed and you’ll be a knockout!” The makeup artist and hairstylist gathered up their things, leaving you sitting there in your robe staring at the floor and hoping they leave fast.

When they finally left, you got up from the bed and walked over to the full-bodied mirror. You showed your teeth and started looking over them. You never thought they looked too bad. Sure, they were crooked and had some spacing, but they were okay. Braces were expensive and playing a brass instrument with braces is a death sentence for lips.

What if you were wrong about them looking okay all this time? Maybe you should have taken out that loan and a semester off to fix your teeth…

Your stylist came in shortly after. He was quieter than the others had been and much nicer which you were thankful for as you changed into the white dress they had picked for you. When you came out, the stylist smiled and hooped.

“You look gorgeous!” You finished off your look with matching jewelry and a clutch purse, sitting down on the bed to put on your heels.

“It took me forever to find a pair of acceptable wedges for you, sweetheart. I don’t know why you didn’t just tough it out for one night, but hey. I get it. Country girls don’t like heels and that’s okay! It worked out.”

Again, not necessarily rude… but damn.

________________________

You were waiting in the lobby for Pedro to come out, bouncing your leg nervously and trying to remember not to touch your eyes or bite your lip because of the makeup. When you saw him step off the elevator, your breath caught in your throat. His hair was slicked back and his facial hair neatly trimmed, the black velvet suit hugging his broad shoulders perfectly.

“Wow…” He muttered, looking you up and down. “You look absolutely stunning, Abeja.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You replied, playing with his bow tie.

“Hey, hey, no. Don’t touch it. I don’t know how to tie it back if it comes loose.” You laughed and shook your head.

“Fine… I’ll unwrap my present later.” Pedro’s own breath caught as you winked up at him. He cleared his throat and composed himself, offering you his arm.

“Ready?” You swallowed and nodded, taking his arm for him to escort you.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

________________________

You were in line for the red carpet, the flashing cameras of the paparazzi already blinding and you were still pretty far back. Your stomach churned, a wave of nausea rising up but nothing happening. Pedro took your shaking hand into his and squeezed it gently.

“You okay?” He asked, noticing how tense you were and only grew worse the closer you got.

“... fine.”

“Plan B’s still an option if you need it, Abeja. You have your medicine you can take too.” You shook your head, looking back at him to flash him a smile.

“I’m good.” You could tell that he didn’t buy your bullshit. Not even for a moment. He didn’t say anything, though, opting only to lift your hand and press a kiss to the back of it.

“I’ll be right there beside you the entire time, honey. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or need to leave, you let me know.” You nodded at him, accepting a kiss from him before looking back out the window of the limo.

Your turn came up way sooner than you would have liked, the greeter opening up the limo door as soon as the car stopped and allowing Pedro to step out into the public eye. The photographers went nuts, the flashing lights and screams from fans intimidating you more than you thought they would.

What the fuck were you thinking? You’re just some tired ass music student. You don’t belong here with all these people.

You almost chickened out and stayed in the car but when Pedro turned towards you and offered his hand you took it anyway even though your mind was screaming for you not to. Just the gentle touch of his calloused hand on yours grounded you enough to carefully step out of the limo, making sure that nothing happens to your dress.

You could hear the sounds of the crowd die down for a moment as they all started muttering to themselves. Your hand was shaking in Pedro’s larger one, the photographers gasping as soon as they saw your face. They started taking pictures faster than they ever had. The bombardment of flashing lights blinded you for a moment, but you adjusted to them quickly.

Pedro let go of your hand and put it on your back, gently leading you where you’re supposed to go.

“Okay?” He asked as he wrapped his arm around you and brought you close. You nodded. You weren’t comfortable in the slightest, but it wasn’t the worst thing ever. While both of you posed for pictures, people from the group of photographers said a lot of things to both of you. Some were kind, others were funny and got a good laugh out of you. There were also a few who were very rude, but they had been pushed aside by the others.

Overall, it wasn’t nearly as bad as you were expecting… but you were glad it was over.

________________________

You were standing aside checking your phone while Pedro did an interview with some of the press. He had offered you to be with him, but the red carpet had been more than enough fame for you. Your phone was on “do not disturb” mode, but you could still see all the notifications coming in. Your Mom, Dad, Lauren, and other friends bombarding you with messages basically asking what the fuck. You didn’t have the time to reply, so you didn’t open any of them.

Once Pedro was done with his interviews, he escorted you into the main hall where he introduced you to some of his friends and colleagues along the way. You considered it an honor to meet the people most only ever dreamed of, but you knew you didn’t deserve it. Someone else should be here, not you.

When you found your seats, Pedro offered you his hand. You took it and allowed him to seat you before he took his next to you and wrapped his arm around the back of the seat. The show started shortly after.

________________________

“And the Oscar goes to…” You held onto Pedro’s hand tightly as they opened up the envelope, your shaking hands encased in his. He had told you when he had been nominated that he didn’t expect to win it, but you could tell he had some hope as he tensely watched them read the card.

“Pedro Pascal.” You jumped up with Pedro, hugging him tightly as the audience broke out in cheers.

“You deserve it!” You told him, breaking away to give him a quick kiss. You watched him run up stage and accept the golden statue, walking up to the microphone with a few chuckles as he looked over the award.

“Wow, this is uhhh… this is incredible. Truly amazing.” He started. “I’d like to thank the Academy for this honor, my Mom and Dad who worked hard to raise me right and who supported me. My brother and two sisters for being there for me, mi Abeja for loving me unconditionally, and just… so many others. There are so many people in my life who have helped me get to this milestone and if I were to thank all of you, we’d be here all night. I love you all so very much and this truly… a dream come true. Thank you.

The crowd stands up and cheers loudly. You wanted to, but you were too busy trying to make sure your makeup doesn’t run down your face with a tissue from your clutch. Eventually, you give up trying and decide to go to the bathroom just to make sure everything still looks fine.

Your makeup looked just as flawless as it had before. You wish you would have known that the artist had used waterproof makeup so you could’ve properly celebrated Pedro’s achievement, but oh well. While you were there, you decided to use the bathroom. You didn’t have to go that bad, but might as well take care of it while you’re here.

While you were relieving yourself, you heard two other women come in.

“-ld for her. He needs to settle down with someone like us and around his age. Not some college student.” You froze solid when they realized that they were talking about you.

“I know. She isn’t even that pretty. Did you see her teeth? Do they not have braces where she comes from?”

“For real. Her body’s not that great either. Looks like she comes straight from the shack or something.”

“Wonder if that’s where he found her?” They both giggle.

“Either way, she doesn’t belong here.” You knew they were right, but you just couldn’t bare to listen anymore, pulling your underwear back up and fixing your dress after you flush the toilet.

You then run out of the bathroom, not even looking to see who the women were. It didn’t matter, though. They were right. You should have never came here and you couldn’t stay any longer.

You walked back to your seat and gently tugged on Pedro’s sleeve.

“C-Can we go… Please?” You ask, your voice shaking just as much as your hands. Pedro got up instantly when he saw the look on your face, grabbing his trophy, coat and your clutch. He didn’t ask questions as he placed his hand to the small of your back and began to escort you out of the theater.

By the time you got back into the limo you felt like you couldn’t breathe. The voices around you sounding like water as your vision became black around the edges. Oh God, is this what feels lie to die? You couldn’t die. Not now! You had so much to do, so much t-

Something extremely cold suddenly touched your face, the blackness around your vision fading slightly as you looked up to whoever had put something so damn cold on you.

You were instantly met with the warm eyes of your boyfriend, concern laced on his brow as he gently dabbed a cold washcloth over your face. You could see his mouth moving, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying over the pounding of your heart, but it eventually calmed down enough to where you could begin to hear him.

“There we go, bee… that’s it sweetheart. Nice and easy.” Your breathing slowly calmed down, Pedro cradling you in his arms as your panic attack faded.

“I should have never come here…” You muttered. “I don’t belong here. All these fancy dresses, the flashing cameras, nice cars… I don’t deserve any of this.” Pedro placed a kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t say things like that, Abeja. You deserve this just as much as anyone. And as far as not belonging, trust me when I say I don’t either. And, frankly, I’m fine with that. All of these designer clothes, the mindless gossip, the broken homes, being surrounded by so many but still alone? That’s not really a life worth living. The world of Beautiful People is a lonely life, one that I would rather not live.”

You wasn’t sure what to say, so you just didn’t say anything, curling up as close as you could to him.

He made you take a dose of your anxiety medication when you got back to the hotel, taking it with a swig of water before laying down and curling up close to him. You laid your head on his shoulder, the sounds of his breathing and the gentle feeling of his hand caressing your own shoulder lulling you.

Right before you doze off, you heard him say:

“No matter what any of them has said, you’re perfect the way you are and deserve everything.”

________________________

You wake up the next morning still wrapped up in his arms. You lay there for a while just talking and enjoying one another’s company before he finally got up to use the bathroom.

You reach for your phone on the nightstand, turning off “do not disturb” mode for the first time since yesterday afternoon.

Your phone was overloaded. Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, everywhere was flooded. You didn’t even know where to begin.

Eventually, you just give up trying to put a dent into anything and returned Lauren’s list of missed calls. She answered on the second ring.

“You tell me every little detail, you sneaky bitch. And I mean everything!”

[system-of-a-feather]

Hey, do you know any information on if alters can cause the host to experience something like sleep paralysis, I had it recently where if I really tried I could force myself to move - and I could move my mouth but no words would come out - it felt like sleep paralysis but I could feel the static in mind - i did feel that earlier before sleeping when I could feel a possible switch.

Originally I was going to say I haven’t heard anything about it but it was interesting so I did a bit of a dive. 

Immediately off hand, I could say that might be a strong form of dissociation, but there are some other interesting things I came to find.

I’m not any form of an expert on this and this is all new information, so Imma format this in a “Imma read through things and pull out info that might be relevant”. 

Do not take any of this as a professional or anything and I would, in the end, really recommend talking to a mental health professional. I am just putting out my best (and sometimes maybe missinterpretted) information from papers for people to take.

Physiology of REM sleep, cataplexy, and sleep paralysis

Sleep paralysis and cataplexy are due to a dissociation (dissociation in this is used in an even more broad sense than what we typically use dissociation for in mental health** correct me if I’m wrong I haven’t read neurology literature in a bit) between structures that regulate the “paralysis” feel and muscle weakness that happens in sleep paralysis and sleep as well as states of waking / alertness.

Cataplexy is “ sudden loss of muscle tone while a person is awake leads to weakness and a loss of voluntary muscle control “ that is “often triggered by sudden, strong emotions such as laughter, fear, anger, stress, or excitement ”.[x] Cataplexy is often connected with narcolepsy

Sleep paralysis in narcolepsy: more than just a motor dissociative phenomenon? ( Not Related, but Interesting Read)

This didn’t have any specific points to pull out other than that chronic narcolepsy and sleep paralysis can actually result in dissociative disorder like traits like being “not fully able to distinguish whether what happened to him was actual or unreal”

It serves little to this discussion other than an interesting food for thought that I felt was nice to share

Relationships between sleep paralysis and sleep quality: current insights

Individuals with panic disorders, ptsd, and high stress / traumatic events in life are much more likely to experience sleep paralysis and sleep disturbance issues.

“Indeed, several studies have found sleep paralysis to be linked to levels of dissociative experiences, both in the context of severe trauma59,60 and in healthy samples.28,61 Furthermore, many studies have found levels of dissociation to be associated with a variety of sleep experiences such as bizarre dreams, hypnagogic hallucinations, and nightmares.41 Of note, the link between sleep and dissociation has not only been found in cross-sectional questionnaire-based studies but a causal role of sleep disturbance in dissociative symptoms has been shown in studies of sleep deprivation, which found that the loss of sleep promoted increased dissociation.”

Fun fact, fixing your sleep schedule can help with your dissociative symptoms in around 6-8 weeks according to this study; I don’t want to be THOSE click bait websites, so I do want to say I haven’t read through the experimental measures since that isn’t the focus of this reading dive but XD Felt Id pull it out

“ Of the studies that have recorded brain activity during sleep paralysis, results suggest sleep paralysis to be a dissociated state of consciousness, combining a mixture of waking and REM sleep brain states. “

Additional Off-Top-Of-Head Information I’ve Picked Up

When we talking about alters / dissociation in context of mental health, we are usually talking about partially altered states of consciousness. Its considered a form of self hypnosis of sorts. 

Dissociation in general is the disconnect from various parts of self, the world, and in more general senses a disconnect of brain functions from one another. 

Sleep, dreaming, REM sleep, cataplexy, and sleep paralysis are also forms that involve altered states of consciousness and various relationships and interactions between said altered states of consciousness

Personal Comments / Thoughts / Opinions

There seems to be a really interesting relationship between dissociative symptoms, sleep issues, cataplexy (the body weakness), and altering states of consciousness together that could bring forth a lot of implications that would need further research on

I did have to think for a moment if part of the reason inner worlds can feel so hyper-realistic is if it is something related to the dream states that are also considered to be hyper-realistic to most people; and if said dream states are correlated to experiences with DID. Also how the relationship between dream states and the function in dreams and memory sorting and processing may be correlated with how EMDR are helpful for PTSD, but risky for DID at the risk of flooding as they help access and sit with memories

Considering dissociation and sleep-related states of consciousness are seeming to be somewhat similar, I really wouldn’t be too shocked if there was an alignment between DID and severe psychological dissociation being able to cause something similar to cataplexy or sleep paralysis; though this is just me connecting dots that may not be meant to be connected as I don’t have research to substantiate the claim; its an opinion and a thought, nothing more

ANYWAYS, this was a really interesting research deep dive to start the day with so thanks XD Not joking, really do enjoy this and I hope you got some information to help orientate your thoughts on your experiences? I still recommend bringing it up with a professional (doctor, psychiatrist, and/or therapist) to see their words as they might know something more clear and direct than any synthesis or hypothesis that I might come up with from a two hour research binge XD

Either way! Hope this helped

-Riku (Host)

[roselen-mylady]

In Another Life

Bucky Barnes x reader ° part eight

Summary: Waiting 88 years to find your soulmate? It was cruel. But it was a cruel fate Bucky would have to face whether he accepted it or not. Bucky was a tortured man all his life and he wasn't even granted the solace of having his soulmate at his side. All he had was the promise of one in another life. They were separated by two different times.

But the pain in their lives were connected.

Y/n had been alone ever since she could remember. All she could depend on was the soulmate that was destined to be at her side. Yet when the snap occurred she lost him.

And Bucky never got to meet her.

After the rather unsuccessful trial, Y/n asked Nat to help her find the showers, figuring the routine act of showering couldn't hurt in easing her busy mind. Y/n dropped the bag off in a room Nat told her was free to use and once grabbing a new set of clothes, they headed off making friendly chatter as they went. But Nat was quieter than usual, an unconscious frown settling in her lips. 

"Wow, if I had known the showers here were so nice I wouldn't have insisted on going home after training." Y/n marveled at the spotless shower room, ogling at the appeasing design. 

Nat let herself be removed from her thoughts, a small smile escaping as she stepped further into the room. Like most gym showers they were separated by small stalls, a clouded door cutting off the occupant from view. It was well lit and simplistic, the only noticeable decoration outside of the marbled tiles being the Avengers logo. 

"Yeah, the showers are pretty nice. There’s towels and toiletries in any of those cabinets over there.” Nat explained, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at the row of neat and out of the way cabinets. Y/n nodded quietly, looking around as Nat moved to sit on one of the benches in the center of the room. 

Y/n tried to ignore the tension that seemed to build around Nat. Her eyes focused on the floor not even noticing as Y/n walked past her making her way to the cabinet. A familiar sense of worry crept into her bones as she shot another glance at Nat. 

Even the towels were pleasing to the eye, all stacked in beautiful rolls on the shelf. Y/n grabbed one, pondering if being one of the heroes was really such a bad thing. A painful feeling bubbled in her chest at the thought and she shut the cabinet with a silent exhale. The responsibilities that came with being a hero certainly weren't worth nice towels. But maybe her friends were. 

"You know in Steve's defense, he tried to tell them to wait for you." Nat vouched, looking up from her hands as Y/n moved to the showers. Y/n scoffed a little, relieved that Nat was talking again. She switched on the water, grateful for the sound it created to fill the silence between their statements. 

"Yeah, well, for Steve that was a pathetic attempt. He could talk someone into robbing a bank if he wanted to, you know." Y/n replied, sending Nat a jesting look. She received a half hearted laugh from Nat as the door closed behind her. 

She tugged off her clothes letting them pile onto the floor before tossing them onto the bench next to her clean set. Both were silent for a moment or two as Y/n stepped into the water, telling herself she was only a little jealous of the water pressure. The warmth that flushed against her skin was soothing and a soft breath slipped past her lips as she allowed herself to relax. 

However, her relief didn't last much longer than a couple of fleeting seconds before Nat spoke up again, her tone establishing a more serious mood. "Why do you still belittle yourself?" Her voice rang out clear as a bell, making sure Y/n couldn't pretend she didn't hear. 

Y/n's bare shoulders slumped and she inhaled deeply, pushing forward her palms to the falling water. Apparently her past hadn't been as concealed as she hoped. 

"What do you mean?" Y/n questioned, trying her best to keep an innocent feel to her words. But Nat wasn't having any of her games. 

"Your whole, 'I'm just a psychiatrist' thing. I'm surprised Steve hasn't figured out that it's not true." Nat remarked. Y/n knew it was an accusation but the way in which Nat spoke was calm like she was making an observation. 

"He hasn't had reason to suspect otherwise. I thought the same about you but I was wrong, I guess." Y/n confessed, any defensiveness toward being exposed washing away with the sweat on her body. It was only a matter of time before one of the Avengers found out and she was glad it was just Nat. 

A strained laugh echoed through the room and Y/n could practically see Nat's offended expression. "I used to be a spy and assassin, you really think I didn't find out everything about you when Steve brought you here the first time?" She questioned. Y/n hummed in response, grabbing the shampoo bottle next to her towel. 

"I was going to tell Steve too but, ever the gentleman, he wanted to respect your privacy." Nat explained. She shifted her legs, letting them cross as her eyes landed on the signature 'A' on the wall. 

"And you didn't?"

Nat dropped her gaze to her folded hands, picking at her fingers more out of habit than distress. "I couldn't. When you started to come around, we were receiving the backlash of the snap. There were hundreds more death threats than ever before, which I didn't even think was possible. I couldn't take the chance of Steve getting hurt because he's too trusting." 

Y/n remained silent, understanding Nat's actions. Though it irked her that the secret of her history was no longer her own, she reasoned with her irrational side to let it go. 

"Imagine my surprise when I found out you'd actually been scouted by S.H.I.E.L.D for years." Nat continued. The slick feeling lingered in Y/n's hair as she struggled to get the conditioner to wash out, her focus deviating from the routine toward Nat. 

"Why did you never accept? They'd been hunting you down since you were 13." The question sounded desperate and hurt as if the refusal was directed at Nat herself.  

Y/n sighed wringing out her hair and shutting off the water. "You don't know everything." She mumbled. "I did accept." She tucked the towel around herself before stepping out, meeting Nat's confused gaze. "S.H.I.E.L.D had been trying to get me to join since they had found out about me and once I was 14, I ran away and joined." She continued. 

A darkness settled in her eyes and she directed her eyes away from Nat, instead glaring at the floor. "Why didn't you stay?" Nat asked, her voice more tender once noticing the pain in Y/n's expression. 

"I realized S.H.I.E.L.D wasn't what I thought it was." A sick feeling settled in Nat's core as she quickly put a timeline together. 

HYDRA. 

Nat stayed silent even as Y/n moved to sit next to her. "Look, I'm sorry for not telling you. Believe it or not I have trust issues too. But by the time I got to know you guys, I thought telling you the truth would do more harm than good." Y/n admitted, lifting her eyes to meet Nat's. 

"It's okay." Nat offered her support, glancing over at Y/n. The brisk air nipped at her damp skin making her almost shiver when droplets fell from her hair and ran down her back. "I just wish you'd stop pretending you don't belong here." 

"I don't belong here." Y/n fought, her brows furrowing in frustration. "I'm not a hero. I'm not an Avenger. Everything I said back there was true." She insisted, trying to cling to the life she'd created for herself. 

"But you worked for S.H.I.E.L.D." Nat tried to emphasize as though it would change Y/n's mind. She shook her head looking away from Nat. She should've never stayed. 

"I don't want to talk about it, Nat." Y/n pleaded. The desperation in her tone overpowered any need to question further and Nat nodded, putting a gentle hand on her friend's forearm. 

"Alright, we don't have to talk about it." Her words trailed on and Y/n dreaded what she sensed Nat wanted to say. "But you have to tell Steve. The longer you wait, the more it'll hurt him." She warned.

Y/n dragged herself up to her feet offering a reluctant nod. She knew telling Steve would either change nothing or everything about their relationship and she feared the moment when she would have to find out which. 

"I will. But you can't say anything to him about this until I do. This stays between us." Y/n urged. Nat gave a small nod of agreement but Y/n could tell she would go back on her word if it meant keeping Steve safe. 

Though it hurt a little that Nat believed she'd hurt Steve, she understood her weariness. Her past had been the one thing Y/n had protected for so long and Nat wasn't sure how she would react to having to share it. But what Nat didn't know was that Steve and her came first to Y/n even before herself. 

"So, what exactly did they recruit you for? It didn't say in the report." Nat asked cautiously, trying to ease some of the tension between them. Y/n felt a hint of a smile creep onto her face, figuring Fury must've had some kind of contingency plan to protect her even after his death. 

"Well, I'm kind of a certified genius." Y/n answered, slightly amused by her explanation and the look of surprise it earned. "Graduated early and stayed at SHIELD for a year as their personal genius." Y/n elaborated looking back at Nat with an offended gawk. "What did you think I was recruited for?"

"I'm not sure." Nat replied, trying to apply this new piece of information to her memories with Y/n. All this time she was a genius? It didn't seem real with some of the stupid things she'd done.

"After my time with S.H.I.E.L.D I joined a high school for some normalcy until I transferred to college. Thankfully I'd be moved around enough classes to avoid suspicion. You must've seen all the classes on my record." Y/n explained, tugging on a t-shirt. 

Nat's brow furrowed and she scoffed, letting her shoulders slump in disbelief. "I thought you were just indecisive." Nat let out a breathless laugh. Y/n chuckled, pulling her jeans up and opening the door. Bringing her belongings out with her, she sat next to Nat to slip on her shoes. 

"Maybe that played into it. Everything was too easy for me but psychology kept my attention." Y/n turned to Nat, studying her thoughtful gaze. "Come on, I'm sure Steve is looking for us." She nudged her friend's arm, drawing her to her feet. 

"You know, for being ex-S.H.I.E.L.D, I thought you'd be easier to train." Nat teased earning a harsh glare from Y/n. 

"They wanted me for my brain, I only had to pass basic training." Y/n defended, jabbing her elbow into Nat's side. The woman laughed in reply, enjoying the pout that had settled on Y/n's lips. 

•••

As if the universe decided to have pity on them, Tony changed his mind, arriving at the compound with what he affectionately called a Time-Space GPS. Bruce seemed almost relieved now that Tony had joined, knowing the whole operation no longer rested on him. 

Or so he thought. Surely, he must've noticed Y/n adjusting his calculations and making suggestions that he would've never thought of. Maybe he just wanted to respect her secret? She gazed at said man with a suspicious glint in her eyes, not even noticing as Tony turned to her.  

"Hey, Doc. What are you doing here?" Tony asked suddenly, turning to Y/n's strangely familiar face. Her eyes flicked toward him, her face flushing in embarrassment as she readied herself for his disapproval. 

"I-I..." She stammered timidly under the gaze of her idol. Something in his eyes seemed knowing, a look that Nat gave her only minutes before and she began to crack with fear of her past being out in the open. It was out of character for her to be so anxious and Steve quickly stepped in sensing her unease.  

"She's with me." He said, his tone firm as Tony turned to him. Tony raised an eyebrow at this, confused by Steve's defensiveness. She was at risk being there but Steve didn't seem to care. 

Y/n had already gone this far with them and that made her a part of the team in his book. She may not have had superpowers or been in battles like they had but she was a hero for years by simply helping those their failure had hurt. She did what they had hoped to do but in the end never really did. She made the world better. 

"Alright…and since when did we bring civilians into this?" Tony argued. Y/n could hear a bit of concern in his tone and her brows furrowed wondering why on Earth he'd care if she got caught in the crossfire. She was a nobody to him.

"Since now." Steve fought. Tony sighed knowing fighting with Steve was pointless. He had spent years resenting the man and he didn't have the energy to fight him anymore. 

"Okay, awesome." Tony said sarcastically. Y/n watched as he held his hand next to his mouth leaning over to her. "Blink twice if you're being held here against your will." He whispered, loud enough for Steve to hear. 

Y/n's nerves dissipated and a soft smile came to her face as Steve frowned. She turned to Tony shaking her head, her suppressed laugh bringing his own smile forward. 

"I like you." She told him. He looked at her with an amused glimmer in his eye as he put an arm around her shoulders. He didn't know why but there was something familiar about her, a joy from his presence that only came from one that admired him. 

"Y'know what, I kinda like you too." He said gently, trying to figure out why he seemed to recognize the feeling. "Well, let's at least get you some kind of gear since you're gonna be stuck with us. Jeez, are we just gonna send her out there with a little clipboard? You guys are insane." Tony taunted, pulling himself away and turning a playful glare to Steve. 

"I wasn't planning on sending her into a fight." Steve tried to defend, not picking up on Tony's joke. Tony's mood changed with Steve's and he sighed, starting to lead Y/n off to the lab.  

"Yeah, well, I learned the hard way that anyone who's involved with us always ends up in the fight." Tony told him, not waiting around for a response. Y/n gave Steve a tender look as she followed Tony, her heart aching at the sight of Steve's guilty expression. As much as he hated to admit it Tony wasn't wrong. 

Was he doing the right thing? 

"What school did you go to?" Tony asked suddenly. She opened her mouth to question why he was asking but he beat her to it with a short shrug. "I saw the work you did. Lemme guess, some kind of tech school?" He inferred. 

She nodded slowly, trying to hide the stupid grin on her face at his subtle compliment. If only he'd known. They entered the lab and she stopped walking as Tony paced forward, trying to find some bracelets like Natasha had once used. 

"Midtown. I was really interested in making new technology." She explained. The mention of the school made him pause an intense feeling of grief washing over him as Peter came to his mind. He sighed trying to force the memories away. He was doing this for Peter and everyone else. 

"Why'd you stop?" He asked. Y/n shook her head, coming to stand next to the table to his right. 

"I guess other opportunities came around." She replied hoping he wouldn't question further. "But after that didn't pan out I went to college, learned anything and everything I could. I wanted to do it all and couldn't stick to one topic. Don't get me wrong, I still love science, hell, I even have the old arc reactor and repulsors I made back in the day. Just psychology was the only thing that could meet my ambition." She sighed, leaning against the table. 

Tony was silent for a moment realizing why he took such a liking to her. She reminded him of Peter. He sighed knowing he was going to do something stupid as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small earpiece. 

"Were they any good?" He asked. She laughed giving a little nod as she thought of all the cuts and bruises she got from using them. 

"Well, I could fly a few yards in the air and I'm sure those poor soda cans had seen better days but they weren't exactly Iron Man quality." She confessed. He nodded, putting out his hand to her. Her eyes fell on the piece, her brow creasing in confusion. 

"Come on, before I change my mind." He urged. She quickly took it, studying the earpiece as he looked away. Tony never really had handled touching moments like those well. It had something to do with his own self hatred, he just couldn't understand why someone would look up to him. 

"What is it?" She asked curiously, tracing over the small button behind the ear hook. He moved to lean against the table beside her, using his finger to point out the button. 

"Uh, a gift for my wife but she didn't much care for the color. It's just a prototype anyways but it should work the same. Put it on and press that." He instructed watching as she pushed off the table and took a couple steps in front of him. She slipped on the earpiece, pressing the button like he told her. 

Bits of metal began to expand from the piece and it flushed over her body covering her from head to toe. A display lit up in front of her and she gasped as a voice greeted her, introducing itself as F.R.I.D.A.Y and welcoming Y/n. She quickly retracted the helmet staring at Tony with wide eyes, completely speechless. He smirked, trying not to show how entertained he was by her awestruck expression. 

"I don't understand…" Y/n said quietly. She was overjoyed to be given a suit, something she had spent most of her teenage years trying to recreate, by her hero nonetheless. But also confused. Why would he give her something so valuable? 

"How old are you?" Tony asked. Y/n's mouth hung open trying to find the relevance of the question before looking away. 

"24, almost 25." She answered slowly. Tony nodded. She was still so young yet so smart for someone who hadn't even reached thirty. Yet, she still had the ignorance that came with innocence. She hadn't seen what most of those on the team had and he wished to protect that like he had intended for Morgan. 

"I lost a kid because of Thanos. Though it wasn't just Thanos's fault I guess, we were too busy fighting one another to get our heads out of our asses and pay attention to the real threat." He crossed his arms, staring at the wall. 

"I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how that must've felt." She said. He offered her a half hearted chuckle looking up at her. 

"You really are a psychiatrist." He said, trying to mask the sorrow that filled his heart and gaze. But Y/n had seen enough people to know exactly what diverting looked like. Tony had been right about her not experiencing horrible things and she knew she'd never understand what they felt. The only trauma she'd experienced was the loss of her family but it was nothing compared to half the universe's blood on your hands. 

But while she didn't experience it first hand, she did through the people she'd become close to. She saw not only every tragedy that affected them but every reaction to it. She saw the brightest in them but also the dark that no one should ever have to see. She saw the aftermath of what they did and had experienced. And in that way she was just as wise.  

"He would've been around your age. He was like you, bright and hopeful. He was going to be better than me, better than any of us." Tony said softly and Y/n listened carefully. It was strange seeing the man that once appeared godlike in her eyes to have flaws or breakdowns for that matter but she had to remind herself he was human too. 

"Well, maybe after all of this, you can give him this suit instead." She suggested. He looked up to her, his expression insecure but his eyes grateful as he chuckled. 

"Keep it. Black never really was his style anyways." Tony remarked. Y/n smiled and he smiled back, realizing just how much he had changed her life by doing that. He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact before pushing off the table and walking off. 

"Well, we better get to work. I promised the old soulmate I'd be back for dinner." He joked. Y/n nodded watching as he went before turning back to the suit. 

It shaped to her frame as if it was fitted for her which was strange for a metal suit. Judging by the way it had moved she figured it had been nanotech, similar to the suit Tony had worn in the New York fight in 2018. It was surprisingly easy to maneuver in and she instantly figured out the concept of the display, getting acquainted with the A.I. F.R.I.D.A.Y. 

She didn't understand why Tony's wife wouldn't just adore the suit even though it was a prototype. The color was amazingly detailed, mostly black with silver accents in the grooves of the metal. She supposed having Tony Stark as a husband meant being able to make specific requests as to high tech.  

Y/n grinned idiotically, letting the suit retract back into the earpiece before going out to meet the others. 

Could she be one of them? 

•••

"That's Thor?" Y/n whispered harshly to Rhodey as the hobo looking man sipped his beer. His prominent beer gut moved with him and his sunglasses slipped down the bridge of his nose as Y/n stared in distaste.  

"Supposed to be." Rhodey answered shortly. Y/n remembered Thor being the object of every woman's fantasies but the years had not been kind to him and she figured it was no longer the case. 

"I'm gonna go check in with Big Guy. Ask Tony how long this thing's gonna take." Rhodey announced, jerking his thumb back to the time machine behind them. Y/n nodded absently, catching sight of Tony as Rhodey walked away. 

"Hey, Tony! I told Rocket that we need to add more paneling the exterior of this thing or it's going to fall apart but he doesn't think so. You'd think fixing spacecraft and all he'd understand the importance of paneling!" She explained, shouting the last part back at Rocket with a glare. "But whatever." She sighed sarcastically, turning back to Tony with an annoyed expression

Tony came toward her, carrying a bit of tubing over his shoulder as he carefully walked around Thor. He rolled his eyes at both him and her statement, calling over to Rocket. 

"What's the thickness of that exterior?" He questioned. Rocket looked at him from his hanging position giving a nonchalant shrug. 

"Quarter inch. Your girl over here is just paranoid." Rocket argued, making Y/n cross her arms. Tony shook his head, walking over to him and setting down the tubing. 

"You might wanna listen to her, Ratchet. That's like half an inch short of what we need." Tony said. Y/n hummed in agreement, not caring about the annoyed look she earned from the angry raccoon. 

"It's Rocket. Take it easy, you two aren't the only geniuses on Earth." Rocket fought before returning to his task. Tony scoffed, turning to look at Y/n whose face was flushed at the comment. 

"Hey, Couch Doctor. You want me to help you start on the paneling?" He questioned. She waved her hand dismissively, looking around for the metal sheets they would need. 

"Nah, it's ok. I'll handle it. I was the one that mentioned it anyways." She volunteered, tugging off her Midtown sweatshirt and tossing it over a stack of materials they'd been using. Her arms were now exposed in the tank top she wore, allowing Tony to catch sight of her countdown. 

"Well, that's interesting." He commented. Y/n followed his gaze to her wrist. Her face flushed from uncovering her rare countdown but she tried to brush it off but grabbing some welding tools. Thankfully, it was only them and the raccoon, making her relax slightly.

"Yeah, wish I could explain it but I'm at a loss." She mumbled. Tony couldn't bring his gaze from her wrist as she gathered the welding unit and protective gear. He tried not to make it obvious while he calculated the numbers but Y/n caught his stare giving him a quizzical look. 

"That's almost 90 years ago. Isn't that around Cap's time?" He asked. Y/n paused, her gaze dropping to her countdown. She'd made her own calculations before, piecing together that her countdown would put her 88 years in the future.

However, she'd never thought about it the opposite way. There was no reason to.

Tony felt a little at fault for her sorrow and he quickly changed the subject, trying to take her mind off it. 

"I mean there can't be too many hundred year-old men in the world." He mumbled. She shook away the thought, doing her best to disregard any theroies. It made more sense that her countdown was looking into the future rather than the past, as odd as that sounded.

Trying hard to force away the thought of her soulmate, she began welding some of the plating onto the machine. It was a difficult subject for her yet it had been brought up twice in the matter of a day. 

"So, I gave you a suit. Now I gotta give you a name." He announced suddenly. She stopped her hand lifting the welding helmet to rest atop her head. 

"A name?" She repeated, raising a brow. He nodded, putting out his hands in a playful gesture. 

"Yeah, I mean a hero name. Y'know like Iron Man or Captain America, the whole deal." He explained quickly. She was reluctant but figured a simple name couldn't hurt and she finally smiled looking over at him. 

"What'd you have in mind?" She asked him, watching as he stared at the ground thoughtfully. 

"Um, Iron Girl?" He suggested. 

"Wow, I could tell you put a lot of thought into that." Y/n mused. He chuckled coming to stand next to her, leaning against the machine. 

"You're right that's a little sexist. Uh, Iron Star?" He tried. Y/n provided a small shrug in response, reaching up to pull down the welding helmet. 

"I think I'll just stick with Y/n." She laughed. He groaned letting his hands fall against his thighs. 

"Come on, Iron Star's pretty cool." He argued, rather proud of his brainstorming. Y/n shook her head, sending him an amused glance through the visor. 

"If you say so, Stark."

•••

"Do you think it'll work?" Nat questioned gently. Y/n leaned further into the couch under Nat's intent stare, sipping the water bottle she'd been given. 

"Well, with Tony's help I think we have a chance. His algorithm sure as hell makes more sense than mine." Y/n sighed. Sweat had collected on her brow and she wiped at it with the back of her hand as she closed her eyes. 

She silently wondered how she missed something like that before. Asking about soulmates was an unspoken ban. It was risky after the snap just as risky as asking about someone's family. She'd never thought to ask because Y/n kept it covered and Nat had just assumed she'd lost her soulmate to the snap. 

They'd been working for hours and Y/n requested a break, not sure how much longer she could handle Tony and Rocket bickering over loud music. Nat had come to keep her company but also out of her own curiosity about Y/n's past. From Y/n's position she got a clear few of her countdown something she'd realized she had never seen before. Had her numbers always been so odd? 

Nat shifted uncomfortably on the couch opposite to Y/n, thinking about all those who had disappeared that fateful day. She'd been there when they all vanished and she vividly remembered the dread that set in after watching such a horrific display.

Suddenly, Steve's need for Y/n made perfect sense to her. 

The way Steve's fingers numbly fell into the pile that was once his lifelong friend. The words of shock that slipped through his lips in the form of a whisper. Collapsing onto the ground with the most devastated expression she had ever seen. 

He lost Bucky and so many of his other friends. His new family. He'd lost everything  But he had Y/n. 

And now that he had someone left to fight for he couldn't let her go. Not with hope hanging in the air. 

"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." Nat looked up, forcing a smile as Y/n took another sip of her water. 

"Just thinking about what's going to happen when we get everyone back." She lied. Y/n swallowed quickly, pointing a playful finger at Nat. 

"I don't know about you but I'm going to take a nap as soon as this is over. Tony's horrible sleeping schedule is rubbing off on me." Y/n laughed. Nat's smile became more genuine as she watched Y/n tap her earpiece letting just the helmet unfold around her head. 

"But first I gotta fix up these protocols a bit. I have no idea what 'Last Ditch Effort Protocol' entails but I really don't wanna find out." Y/n's voice came out sort of muffled and mechanical like Tony's was as Iron Man. 

"Probably something flamboyant." Nat replied. Y/n nodded, her hands swiping at the air before her nonchalantly. 

"Yeah, no one's quite as extra as Tony Stark."

Part nine 

Taglist

@cancanmarvel

@jessyballet

@eldahae

@mc225g

@kissesofdeadforme

@wantingtobekorra

@sxphiiwrld

@lunaticbarnes

@indecisivedolly

@saiyanprincesswanue

@lextheflexsthings

[orangerosebush]

On minds and matters

It was a bit disheartening to spend years working towards an MA in psychology, only to then use it on hour-long glorified eye-staring contests with the moody adolescents of the UK’s Vieux riches. His job paid well, though, and as such Dr. Po was willing to grit his teeth and soldier on through each meeting on his list.

He’d had plenty of patients who came to him determined not to progress. These were the boys who had a few too many write-ups on their files; the ones whose families were tired of their son being too 'emotionally high-maintenance'; the students who had consigned themselves to being one of the ‘troubled’ boys. The problem with elite boarding schools was that they sometimes served as the dumping grounds for wealthy families who would prefer to not be reminded of their screw-up children — as such, Dr. Po’s target demographic was made up of boys determined to ‘win’ therapy by going home just as bitter and in pain as they were when they started sessions with him.

He didn’t always make a breakthrough. Sometimes, he had patients who showed up to a session with a note from Dean Guiney excusing them from further meetings, and that was that. Dr. Po firmly believed that every single student he’d met with was capable of finding some coping mechanism or outlet that would help them — and he hoped that the students whose sessions stopped before any progress had been made found happiness in the future. Or, at the very least, that they found something that would bring them peace.

There were certain patients he’d had that stood out from the others, both for good reasons and bad. Artemis Fowl II was one of those patients — and standing out for reasons ‘both good and bad’ described Artemis perfectly. 

Following a series of disastrous sessions when the boy was thirteen, Dr. Po had simply stopped seeing Artemis. The boy hadn’t even shown up with a note terminating their sessions. One day, a new boy had shown up in the time slot usually reserved for Artemis, and that had been that. Dr. Po hadn’t seen Artemis since. He vaguely remembered hearing the news that the Fowl patriarch had been found — alive — and not been sure whether to expect Artemis to get better or worse. 

Would the return of his father foster the growth of the nascent emotional maturity that Artemis had exhibited in their final sessions? Or would Artemis’ worst traits — his tendency towards arrogance, his dismissal of others, his budding narcissism — firmly take root, defining Artemis’ personality for good? These questions nagged at Dr. Po, and truthfully, he was too cowardly to ask around the staff to confirm just what sort of person Artemis had become.

Thus, Artemis remained an enigma.

An enigma that just so happened to be sitting in the armchair across from Dr. Po, boring a hole through the doctor with his unflinching gaze.

In true Artemis Fowl fashion, the boy had shown up for a session that had been reserved without a name. Dr. Po had nearly dropped his clipboard when he’d opened the door to usher in his new patient and been greeted with a now fifteen years of age Artemis Fowl standing before him, looking simultaneously defiant and sheepish.

They’d both walked into the room wordlessly, waiting in silence as Dr. Po awkwardly rummaged around in his desk for his old notes on Artemis while the young teen sat gingerly in the patient seat in the middle of the room.

“You’ve not switched to a digital filing system?”

Dr. Po started, looking up at Artemis.

“No psychiatrist or counselor uses iPads or digital notetakers,” Dr. Po explained hesitantly, brow furrowing.

Artemis wasn’t one for small talk, usually.

Shaking his head slightly as if to right himself, Dr. Po continued. “It’d be convenient, but there are concerns about the patient being recorded."

Artemis seemed satisfied with that answer.

Flipping his notes closed, Dr. Po studied Artemis, who raised a single brow.

“I’ve never forgotten our session that you left in the middle of,” Dr. Po remarked, and the frown lines on Artemis’ face deepened. “You were such a smarmy child. But you… made this joke.”

Artemis leaned back in his chair, tapping a foot in annoyance. “What a wonderful memory you have.”

“Not really. But it’s hard to forget a patient like you, Artemis,” Dr. Po sighed. “I tried to ask you about your feelings — you responded by telling me a family heirloom was a blatant forgery.”

The memory caused Artemis to smile genuinely for the first time since he’d stepped into the office. “The fake Victorian?”

The doctor grimaced. “Yes.”

“Despite its lack of authenticity, it was a perfectly nice armchair,” Artemis assured, a gently teasing note worming its way into his voice.

Edged on by Artemis' demeanor softening, Dr. Po pushed on. “But back to the joke. I remarked on the loss of your father — insensitively, I now realize — and you shut down. You started jerking me in this way and that in order to prevent me from getting a real reading on you. You said something along the lines of, ‘I’m depressed that I’m going to therapy,’ I believe. Quite a bon mot.”

“I was impudent as a young boy, I’m afraid,” Artemis said breezily, sounding more amused by the tale than remorseful. “I hope you’ll forgive me for a poor first impression.”

“Artemis, why are you back in my office?”

Artemis didn’t even blink, taking the challenge in stride. “My mother believes it will be beneficial.”

“Your mother? Not you?”

“Correct.”

“And… beneficial? To what end? Elaborate on her reasoning, perhaps,” Dr. Po asked, trying to keep his tone light.

“She believes I am emotionally maladjusted,” Artemis said, giving a small shrug.

“Are you?”

Artemis blinked owlishly, the question not quite computing. “Am I what, doctor?”

Dr. Po clicked his pen idly. “Unhappy.”

“Well, of course.”

Dr. Po was unable to keep his face neutral, and Artemis chuckled slightly at the doctor’s wide-eyed gaping.

“Dr. Po,” Artemis sighed, sobering as if he were explaining something evident to a child. “Of course I am unhappy occasionally. I’m a very busy man. My intellect has made it so I’ve moved beyond the carefree days of adolescence — I’ve matured past an age where my mother could treat me as a child, and although I don’t mourn the loss of simpler times, I suppose she does.”

Dr. Po forced himself not to ask if Artemis had ever truly been treated as a child, deciding to steer clear of the topic of family based on how unproductively the discussion had gone years ago. Instead, he elected to place his clipboard on the floor, looking at Artemis bluntly.

“Artemis, I’m not diagnosing you with anything,” he began, holding up a hand when Artemis opened his mouth to say something. “What I want to discuss today, however, is that right now I see the same pain in you today as I did when you were thirteen — and since I’m no longer getting complaints from department heads, that means you’ve taken that frustration and turned it somewhere else.”

Artemis’ lips quirked upwards, but his eyes were mirthless. “You share my mother's theory that I am some variation of the tortured genius stereotype.”

“How about this — I think that you believe that there isn’t a person alive smart enough to help you. Because to 'fix' you, someone would have to look inside you, and you think you’re the only person that’s able to understand how you work.”

“How narcissistic of me.”

“I’ve met with a lot of people since our last session when you were thirteen,” Dr. Po stressed. “I’ve not met anyone quite as clever as you, but I’ve met people who fit the same profile. You’re well versed in my profession, so you’re able to view your pain as both a participant and as an outsider — and that strangely voyeuristic relationship to your mind makes it so you and all these other folks think that you’re objective. Logical, even, in your analysis of your mind. You understand every tick, every tiny mechanism, every structure of your psyche. And if you understand it all and you still can’t will yourself to be happy, then why the hell should I be able to do anything for you? After all, I’m just some idiot who decorates his office with forged antique furniture his grandfather was gullible enough to purchase. Why should I know better than you do?”

Artemis was silent at that.

“If someone can, say, convince themselves that all their peers are 2D caricatures of people, they’ll never have to think about why they struggle to feel any pleasure from social interaction. If they can look around and see how far their family has come, then they can force themselves to box up and discard the baggage of the past. If they can convince themselves that pain and genius are twins, that the torment is part of the gift by which they define themselves, then the fear they have that maybe they’re destined for a life marked by paranoia and apathy no longer has to be confronted,” Dr. Po tried, searching for some way to express his thoughts before Artemis decided to snap at him. “Maybe you’re the only one who sees the world as it really is. But maybe your mother is right to be concerned. I get why… that’s an unattractive possibility to you. It would mean your analysis of yourself was incorrect. And if you were wrong, if your mind has tricked you into running away from the change that you need to feel happier, then you’re just as human as the rest of us. Pain tricked you into believing its integral to your ‘youness’. You’re... just human. And let me tell you, Artemis, that feeling ineffectual, and frustrated, and sad is... so very painfully human.”

By the time he’d finished his spiel, Dr. Po’s voice was soft. Pursing his lips, he tried to see if he’d garnered any sort of reaction from Artemis. The teen remained stony-faced.

“I can recommend a therapist from outside Saint Bartleby’s,” Dr. Po finally said. “If you don’t want to work with me, then I don’t want to waste either of our time.”

Artemis seemed to be broiling with unreadable intensity, and for a moment Dr. Po worried that he’d start going on a diatribe.

His fears soon were proven unfounded when all of the sudden, Artemis seemed to deflate.

“I do not choose sadness for myself, Dr. Po. I can assure you that,” Artemis remarked, sounding weary in the way men twice his age did when confronted by the prospect of the world having moved on past their prime.

“I would never imply something so insensitive,” Dr. Po insisted. “But there is a difference between me saying something of that sort and me asking you to believe that I could help you. Or if not me, then someone better suited to working with you.”

Artemis ruminated on the statement, his tapered fingers tapping out an unfamiliar rhythm on the arms of the ornate chair he was sitting in.

“I will come to my session next week,” he finally decided, and Dr. Po almost sagged with relief.

Carefully, the two of them continued on with the session. Although it felt as though they were both walking on eggshells around one another, the hour-long session ultimately ended in a place where Dr. Po felt like they could work with. He walked Artemis to the door, and after awkwardly bidding him goodbye, Dr. Po retreated back into his office.

For a while, he simply sat at his desk, thinking.

It wasn’t as though he’d made groundbreaking headway with Artemis today. Frankly, they’d been only nominally productive following Artemis’ promise to give therapy a genuine attempt.

The day stretched on, and Dr. Po was no closer to making sense of the ever-present Artemis conundrum.

After all, how does one describe Artemis Fowl?

Various psychiatrists have tried and failed. The problem is Artemis’ own intelligence. He bamboozles every test thrown at him. He has puzzled the greatest medical minds, and sent many of them gibbering back to their own hospitals.

Dr. Po paused, reaching back for the clipboard he’d discarded at the beginning of the session.

Artemis Fowl II was fifteen. He had various, tremendously important responsibilities, the details of which he refused to elaborate on. His best friend, to Dr. Po’s knowledge, was his paid bodyguard. Frankly, Dr. Po didn’t think they’d talk about Artemis’ family for a long, long time.

Dr. Po couldn’t really describe Artemis Fowl, because he didn’t know him. He didn’t think many people knew the boy, not really.

All the same, Dr. Po wanted to try. He wanted to try to understand Artemis Fowl a bit better. Not because Dr. Po wanted to a hero, but because he wanted Artemis Fowl to just get to be a boy instead of whatever impossible, confusing role Artemis seemed to be trying to fill.

Artemis Fowl was fifteen. Dr. Po hoped that he’d hold onto boyhood a little while longer.

[taekooktimeline]

Ask

Kayla will focus more on the latest VCR’s while Sara will do so on the one where TK appear under a blue light.

Kayla: Hello! 💜I miss questions like this🥺thank you so much for submitting it, and that means a lot that you appreciate hearing our interpretation of things💜I loved this question so much🥰

Before I start, as always, please keep in mind this is simply my interpretation of things! ☺️

I agree both VCRs seem to heavily hint to deeper things with taekook. Let’s start with Jungkook’s “my time”. He has said consistently this song is about his lost childhood and growing up in the spotlight. However, I do personally think there’s a secondary meaning. I understand some are sensitive to analyzing songs, and no not every song in a member’s solo discography is directed to his lover, but here’s what made me pause - the chorus - “I can’t call ya/hol’ ya” and then, at the end, it changes to “I will call ya/I will hol’ ya”. It fits his struggles in the spotlight - the inability to reach out due to multiple difficulties (busy schedule, saesangs, etc) and eventually he is able to reach out, call, touch. In this instance, the chorus could be considered towards relationships, like a special someone. I don’t normally like Quora, but Helen Xu, an interactor on the site, is very insightful and has said something I agree with. She directly answered a question about “my time”. Below are snippets but I highly encourage reading the entirety of her answer here - https://www.quora.com/Do-you-think-My-Time-by-BTS-Jungkook-is-about-himself-I-respect-and-trust-BTS-what-they-say-but-I-can-t-help-but-feel-that-this-song-is-for-his-significant-other-I-really-hope-so-tho-because-I-love-that-for-him-but 

Keeping in mind this, we can examine the VCR a little more closely. Jk looks at a lot of clocks on the walls.

But only a handful are singled out and on a nightstand close by him. For me, this indicates great importance to these specific clocks.

One I am still working on figuring out is the one to the far left of Jk, right behind the phone. I can’t determine if it says 3:09 or 3:10. If it says 3:09… that’s very interesting, as it’s Yoongi’s birthday. Keep in mind, Yoongi wrote letters to only taekook in 2018 that, in Tae’s own words, made him cry for 10 mins. The members joked Jk’s letter must be a “copy paste” of Tae’s, meaning the same letter:

Jk singled out both Tae’s character, Tata, and Yoongi’s character, Shooky, to be the ones supporting Cooky directly in the ring for his 2020 B21 skit.

If the clock truly says 3:09, this is the second time Jk has directly singled out Yoongi in 2020, as well as Tae when factoring the other clock. Disclaimer - Please note this part is shaky since I can’t determine the time enough to feel confident. 

But what we can deduce - as a lot noticed, 2 of the 3 clocks next to Jk show his birthday, 9/1 - 9:01, and Tae’s 12/30 - 12:30.

The fact these are singled out from the other clocks and are closest to Jk imply to me great importance to him. He picks up the third clock closest to him.

This one has the time - zero o’clock. He holds it up and smiles at it, as if he’s embracing the new time.

Zero o’clock is about starting a new day and forgetting what troubles you. For me …factoring in the two clocks being placed in a prominent position (denoting Tae’s and Jk’s birthdays) + Jk then performs “my time” right after + my suspicions that align with Helen Xu, that the song has a secondary (hidden) meaning …for me, this indicates Jk has found his time. His time has come, he’s ready/at peace and he’s welcoming it. He’s leaving his former struggles behind and will live more freely, less restricted. 

The other part of the VCR was very interesting. Only Taekook paint their faces in black. I spoke to a few different people, who were firm that painting oneself with black indicated stigma, sin, being different, in their culture. It can also be viewed as their shadow, as BTS have discussed this extensively. Tae covers his eye while Jk covers his mouth. This reminded me of “see no evil, hear no evil” in the sense their differences/“sins” are not seen or spoken about by society. Society chooses to ignore what they’ve tried to show and say.

Jk paints his mouth black while Tae paints his eye.

After, both smirk.

For me, this indicates they’re embracing their shadow/difference. They are not bothered any further by society closing their eyes and mouths to their stigma. They have come to terms with it. They will no longer hide in their shadows/darkness. 

They also showed the shadow closing on Tae (going backwards, reverse effect, not fully closing since the door still opens for him) and the light opening on Jk - parallels of each other, and again, they are the only two with this symbolism.

What I find very interesting out of all of this is how taekook are singled out as different from the group. There is a reoccurring pattern. We saw it at MAMA 2019. Both were in blue light then, based on standing order, both were in black. (As a side note - i couldn’t find a capture that encompassed Jin in the below blue/red light):

The others are in white while Taekook are black, still hidden, in their shadow. 

We then saw them be singled out as different again in the On MV. Both were the only ones that had thorns, Tae’s on his neck and Jk’s around his wrist.

Thorns also can be symbolic of sin, just like the black paint in the VCR:

Jk even says he was cast out of society for being different.

My personal thinking which isn't necessarily applicable to the VCRs and heavy hinting: a taekook subunit is coming by the end of the year. We’ve said this consistently since about the spring, as noted in the main timeline, based on the first few vlives, some festa promo shoots and the order of the festa board.

There have been some other, more recent, indicators, but this has been my consistent stance - 1) Taekook 2) Yoonmin + Jin 3) Hobi and Joon. We’ll see! I know some have a differentiating opinion on this based on the BTS YT live with two subunits, not three + photo cards but my stance remains the same from spring. And if you disagree it’s ok! It’s only theory- it can be wrong or right. In asks I feel safer theorizing more freely since we don’t have to place as much importance on being “right”. Either way, even if I’m incorrect on the other subunit pairings, I still think Taekook will be a unit. 

BH is working to normalize - to some degree - TK after years of restricting on camera interactions. Part of normalizing, for some, will be a subunit. I feel strongly it’ll happen for that reason. Whether it’s on a BTS album, or KTH1 or JJK1, I’m not sure. But I think by December or, at the latest January, the subunit will happen on one of those three (if it doesn’t happen in November for BE). 

But I want to make it clear … I don’t think singling out Taekook from the group is solely for their subunit. Whether the subunit is on the BTS album or a mixtape, I feel very strongly we are getting one. But the reoccurring pattern of showing them as different from the other five members, with symbolisms of shadow/stigma/sin (and now embracing that)... to me indicates something even bigger is possibly brewing. I’ve got a lot of mixed thoughts I’m sorting through regarding the company’s stance right now so some of that conflicts and I just need to see in time where things go. 

Please remember this is merely MY opinion / theory on this topic, which is subjective and open to individual interpretation. If I’m wrong, I’m wrong :) theory is theory for a reason and I know some disagree on the subunit part (so please don’t flood the asks with stances - I know this is a varied opinion💜😅). All we can do is wait. 

——————————

Sara: I´ve never paid too much thought to concert VCR´s because I wasn't sure if they had enough substance...but now as I pondered I'm quite excited to share my findings. We all know Taekook were the only ones to have a blue light casted over them right? Well, this is extremely important and I’ll tell you why. 

BTS have made references to the blue & red pill dilemma from matrix on multiple occasions, the first time that I recall being in their MV for “N.O.” where they take the red pill & fight the system.

In sum, if you take the red pill you face the harsh reality while if you take the blue pill you stay in a dream-like illusion, a fake and perfect one. In the music video for “Shadow” you can see Suga singing on top of the scenario covered in blue light while everyone filmed him. This is his persona. The persona, for psychiatrist Carl Jung, was the social face the individual presented to the world—"a kind of mask, designed on the one hand to make a definite impression upon others, and on the other to conceal the true nature of the individual" = an illusion = blue pill.

  Afterwards, his shadow that was hidden among the crowd takes over and everything turns red as he faces his true hidden self = harsh reality = red pill.

What is the shadow? In short, the shadow is the unknown side. The shadow represents all the personal traits we have ignored, denied, or cut off from ourselves. Because one tends to reject or remain ignorant of the least desirable aspects of one's personality, the shadow is largely negative. There are, however, positive aspects that may also remain hidden in one's shadow (especially in people with low self-esteem, anxieties, and false beliefs). Being LGBTQ would fit into this last case as it’s not negative in nature. Jung’s concept is that the aim of one’s life, psychologically speaking, should be not to suppress or repress, but to come to know one’s other side, and so both to enjoy and to control the whole range of one’s capacities; i.e., in the full sense, to “know oneself.” That process is called “individuation” and a necessary step is to become aware of the shadow and integrate it’s hidden aspects into the consciousness.

At first the blinking blue light suffocates Tae who can be seen suffering, running around and hugging himself. Something in his interior wants to be set free.

At the end of the VCR Tae is finally standing calmly as he faces his truth, accepting it (red) -

That’s what Sinclair does in the book “Demian” that BTS based their series “Wings” on. He recounts his experiences with the two realms, two worlds of which he was aware at the time—one of darkness, and one of light, one of day and one of night. The realm of day was everything "good", straight, and Christian. The realm of night was the world of scandal and mystery, drunkenness and murder, deceit and illegal activity. The realm of light was the world of Sinclair's parents and sisters. Though living in the realm of light, he was curious about and attracted to the realm of darkness. He was tempted by Demian, who acted like an inner voice leading him to self-discovery and individuation. In the Below pic the black ink represents temptation and “sin”. Jk takes it to his mouth (in this 2016’s trailer for the Wings tour, other members use different symbolism like sinful apples, blindfolds, curtains, etc).

Jk takes a taste of this world of darkness in BS&T. The world of the previously unknown and denied shadows.

Dialogue from “Demian” that played in this scene from BS&T: “He too was a tempter. The evil world with which I no longer wanted to have anything to do”. The balloon is let go which represents lost innocence - surroundings covered in red.

As I said, the shadow is not always inherently negative, but it’s always perceived as such by either society, the individual, or both. The intro for “Wings” was “Boy Meets Evil”. When the lyrics give into the temptation the walls are painted red.

When performing this song in MAMA 2016 we can see the two realms on opposite sides. When we mix them we get a purple color representing the whole, the dichotomy of human nature (which tormented Sinclair until he accepted himself).

What are they trying to convey with this picture below?

Well, other members are letting their shadows be seen, but Taekook are showing us their carefully drafted public persona, hiding their truth. All of them do this to some extent, but this image implies Taekook’s real self drastically contrasts with the illusion that they create by wearing their masks. They have to conceal more than the rest, even if they already accepted themselves.  What you see is a pretty lie = blue. They only show us their “good” side. Just like “Fake Love’s” lyrics (a song directed to army): “Mold a pretty lie for you”, “Try to erase myself and make me your doll”.  Also, In Singularity Tae sings about silencing his voice and trapping himself into a frozen BLUE lake.

He wears a mask. The red part of his head (shadow, hidden truth) has an earring that reads “loved���. Forbidden, secret love?

Yoongi recently talked about this topic while In The Soop. He said that he talked with Bang pd nim and that, if someone has to do it (for a greater good), he himself would choose the red pill. He would sacrifice. The matrix is an ongoing theme.

About the latest VCR’s where TK have black paint, I basically agree with Kayla. They were introducing the shadow-themed section of the concert so every member was portraying the shadow in different ways but it’s definitely interesting that Taekook represented the shadow with the exact same symbolism put back to back - arguably the most visually impactful out of them - placed near the end of the VCR as it reaches it’s peak in intensity before slowly falling into quietness again. Taekook share a common aspect of themselves that is considered negative and carries a stigma and therefore - as their blue public colors indicate - is part of their red hidden shadow. They really highlighted Taekook’s scenes, so it indicates their shadow is of greater significance. It’s a bigger deal. As mentioned earlier, the black ink is related to sin.

Now JK’s VCR that introduced his song. “My time” by Jk is certainly about his crazy life while growing up in the spotlight. It’s not only about his lost childhood, but also about a “limited love”, losing the capacity to love freely during his teens and beyond. The chorus - the part of the song that delivers the main message - sings about a relationship with many physical limitations. The chosen words are pretty romantic: hold, touch, etc (discard fans as it’s a personal song). Since we talk about the spotlight, it can be understood that they can’t do those things while having eyes on them. He says “happy that we met each other” so it’s not about his family. He’s waiting for “the time” they’ll be able to love freely which he has promised will come (“I will hold ya and you know”). If we take the previous VCR’s into account it’s quite suspicious that Taekook’s clocks are placed right next to each other in the most important spot angle-wise. It does seem like a connection between Jk’s song and Taekook. 

What does all this ultimately mean? What’s the purpose of showing these hints? Well, not sure. Could be related to them coming out in the future and finding their time to live their lives as a couple without pretending, taking off their masks and revealing their truth. For the time being a TK subunit would be neat though :P 

[pluviophile-bookworm]

I feel like I need to talk about this...

I’m very open about being aroace. At least here on Tumblr I am. (Outside of Tumblr, I am technically out, but some issues with my mother and grandmother have forced me back into the closet. I felt miserable about that initially, but I’m learning to be fine with it.) But it wasn’t always this way. In fact, I didn’t even know what aroace meant until I was 18. So how was I supposed to know when I got my first ‘celebrity crush’ that those last words do not, in fact, describe very accurately what I was experiencing? I didn’t know I had ADHD, either. I feel like that might have helped me realise some things about my experience. But let me go back a bit and actually tell you what happened and how it happened. [side note: I’ll be starting from a bit earlier than the ‘crush’ thing happened because I feel like it’s important for whoever reads this to understand how my circumstances shaped the experience I had]

Backstory:

I had always been different from my peers, so it was not surprising to anyone that I was bullied in middle school. [side note: Judging from my and my little brother’s combined experience, I feel like bullying is, quite unfortunately, something of a universal experience in middle school - in my day, I was on the receiving end. This last school year, my brother was the bully. Gosh, I wish I could tell my story without many deviations and without crying as I type, but I’ve already thrown both of those intentions out the window.]

So anyway, things got so bad that I was driven to suicidal thoughts. One night I was just lying in bed, thinking about going through with it, but I was like, well, I’ve got a test in the morning. Maybe after that. 13-year-old me had very weird priorities. I kind of still value my work over my mental health, but I’m working on it. So that night, I didn’t do anything. The next day, right before school, I was on the internet and I found out a new show had premiered. And then, as I was watching the pilot episode, that was when it happened. I saw this boy, whom I will not be naming, and I listened to him sing. I felt nothing much at the moment, but I couldn’t get the song out of my mind all day. Up until that moment, I had had a weird attitude towards music where I’d only listen to female singers. My ‘boys have cooties’ phase, I guess you could say. But this one, he was the first one I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I felt like I could listen to his voice 24/7. I’ve had that feeling hundreds of times by now, but I hadn’t before then. So I figured, this must be what a crush means, right? This must be what all my peers are talking about. The next day, I confided in a girl from my class with whom I was kind of friendly (though not actual friends, I’d say). I asked her if she’d seen the show, if she knew this person. She said yes and we kind of gushed about the song together, and I felt normal for a couple of minutes. I never knew the difference between my experience and what is considered ‘normal’ until years later.

For the time being, the thought of this special person was what was keeping me alive. I started having visions of him walking with me through the school hallways or sitting next to me on the bus home from school. I knew perfectly well those visions weren’t real, but they made me feel better. Happy. Safe. Seen. Full disclosure: I still have such visions, I’ve had them with different people through the years as my hyperfixations change. My latest one is what has enabled me to deal with some of my worst phobias (and I have a long list of them). I’ve never told anybody what it is, and I won’t be telling because I feel like if I do tell, the vision will not be strong enough to work against my fears. But I’m getting sidetracked again. Sorry for that.

So, I was pretty much obsessed with this guy. He was all I could think about, he was keeping me alive through what was possibly the toughest time in my life to date. So naturally, thanks to my heteronormative, amatonormative surroundings, I was convinced I had a crush on him. In fact, after this experience had lasted about a year, I was sure I was in love. 

Then things changed. I started high school. I found a couple of friends, and the people in my class in general made me feel like I could finally be myself. Be open about what I thought and how I felt. So by the end of the first semester, all 27 people in my class knew about my feelings for this guy. What I didn’t know was that they didn’t know that it wasn’t exactly like I was describing it. Because I wasn’t aware that a straight/ allo person’s idea of being ‘in love’ was different from mine. I was just putting things in words I thought I understood. 

So it came as a total surprise when some people from my class started teasing me about it. It wasn’t malicious teasing, that much I could tell. I had been bullied mercilessly before. What my new classmates were doing was asking genuine questions in a slightly teasing manner. For example, it would be known that my special person had a girlfriend, and so they’d ask me ‘aren’t you jealous’ or ‘do you wish you were that’, or stuff like that. And those questions felt so weird. So stupid. I thought, wait, why would I be jealous? Why would I feel bad about this person who has made me so happy, being happy himself? Why would I want to date him? That had nothing to do with how I felt. I told my classmates so. They gave me weird looks in response. So I started feeling like there was something wrong with me. Like I wasn’t doing that ‘in love’ thing right. Suddenly, I felt like my feelings were being intruded upon. Tarnished, somehow. I had always been aware that my visions were anything but real. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. And all of a sudden, somebody was suggesting that I should want to date this person. Why would I want to date anyone, I thought? Even if it was him. Dating people was awkward. Making physical contact with anyone outside my immediate family made me shudder. It still does, though I can hug some of my closest friends without any negative feelings. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Back to my first time I questioned my experience. I was about 14 at the time (in Bulgaria, high school starts from grade 8, ages 13-14 or 14-15), and, well, I didn’t do much questioning at the time. I just told myself that they didn’t understand my feelings, and I stopped being so open about the topic. 

My hyperfixation on this person lasted long. Longer than any other I’ve ever had to date. Maybe it was because I clung to it like it was what tethered me to my mortal life. But by my final year of high school, I could feel it fading away. I was forcing myself to think about this person, to conjure up the old visions; the song that had started it all was drained of all meaning that it had held for me. I was moving on to other hyperfixations. I felt like I was betraying myself, like I was breaking some sort of unbreakable vow. It was time to face the music. So I let go. I allowed myself to move on. It was kind of made easier by the fact that my special person had changed, too, and had moved on to projects that I could not enjoy due to some triggering content. And I moved on.

Then I joined Tumblr. I discovered some things. Among them was Hellenic polytheism. It had been a while since I’d found my faith in the Hellenic pantheon, but Tumblr was where I found out I was not alone, that there was an existent religion. And step by step, I realised that... I had been projecting Apollo’s presence onto my special person. And my old connection to that person had started fading away when I had realised I believed in the gods.

This explained a lot of things. But there was still the fact that I had never been able to look at another person the way my peers were looking at each other. I had been asked out two or three times during high school. I had rejected those people without even thinking about it. My best friend at the time was a boy and most teachers seemed to ship us together because, well, let’s be real - we were constantly fighting like an old married couple. It took him getting a girlfriend and seeing how happy I was for the two of them for everyone to realise that things between us were, and had always been, purely platonic. And now I was going to uni and I had never had feelings I was apparently supposed to have. 

It was also thanks to Tumblr that I discovered the extent of the LGBTQ+ community. I considered myself an ally at first, and I was a passionate ally, too. I still am nothing but supportive to my fellow LGBTQ+ people of all identities, but it was not until I was 18 going on 19 that I discovered the term ‘asexual’. I knew quite suddenly that this was the term for me. I knew what I was and how I felt. I felt mature enough to know the difference between ‘I’m not experienced enough to know for sure’ and ‘I’ve just never had those feelings, I don’t even know what they’re supposed to be like’. It took a bit longer to find out there was a difference between sexual and romantic attraction, but by the time I was 19, I had proudly labelled myself ‘aroace’. I still feel at home with this label. I am completely open to the possibility that it might change with time, but this is what feels right at this time. 

Fast-forward another couple of years to about 8 months ago. I had always known that I got really invested into stuff - shows, books, hobbies, people - only for that investment to wear off after a time. The timespans varied, but I realised I had experienced this ever since I was in pre-school at least. I didn’t have a term for it, though. And then, all of a sudden, Tumblr started offering me posts tagged ADHD. I could relate to maybe 95% of them. At one point, it felt like whatever algorithm this hellsite operates on was shoving the ADHD posts in my face, as if screaming ‘DOES THIS REMIND YOU OF, WELL, YOU?!!!’ in my ears. So I did some tests. I did a lot of self-reflection. I went to a psychiatrist. I was diagnosed in March. I started educating myself on the terminology and found out that what I was experiencing is called hyperfixating. So here I am now.

Here I am now, reflecting back on my experience from 8 years ago, connecting the dots. Realising what it was that I went through, allowing myself to go through it again, with different things and people. I don’t feel the need to cling to hyperfixations anymore because I know that is what they are and I know I can’t keep them forever. Of course, I do feel bad about stopping caring about something that used to be my light and life for a time. I dread the time I’ll get over my current hyperfixation, but I also know it’s inevitable. My ADHD brain needs the change and it happens naturally. And somehow I’m ok with that.

Well, this is it. This is the story of how Tumblr prompted me to discover aspects of myself that have been there for as long as I can remember. What better place to talk about it than Tumblr itself? What better group of people to understand and accept me than my lovely mutuals and followers? If you’re reading this, thank you. For being here, for listening to me, for allowing me to be who I am. You’ve got no idea how happy this makes me, even though I can barely see what I’m typing through the tears. Thank you.