#past hallucinations

[whump-tr0pes]

Honor Bound 6 - 31 (Headache/Migraine) - @badthingshappenbingo

Red X for posted, white X for requested! Send in your requests! If you don’t see a prompt here that you already requested, please send it again!

~

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Masterlist

Contents: sick fic, past captivity, unsure of reality, past forced confession, past offscreen murder of a child, self-hatred, past hallucinations, past murder, fear of taking pills, so much angst

~

The cloying sensation of pain reached Gavin through heavy waves of nausea and exhaustion. He squeezed his eyes shut and winced as the pain sharpened to a hot, pulsing point behind his left eye. A chill shuddered over his shoulders, down his spine, back up into the tight muscles of his neck. His own clammy fingers pressed against his forehead in a feeble attempt to relieve the pain.

There was no relief, down here in the basement.

He was a little warm, at least, under the three blankets he had earned with his confessions. They hadn’t been wild and desperate, like the confessions pried out of him by the drugs or the razor-sharp edge of Schiester’s knife. Each one had been deliberate. He had known the bargain he was making with each one.

“My coming back was my fault. Not theirs. I… I sh-should have died. It wasn’t their fault.”

“I… I shot Gray. In the chest. Back when I was… when I was still fighting them. I shot them in the chest and left them to die.”

“Wh-when I was sixteen, my mother offered me a child… I see it was a test, I see that now, but at the time I just saw a plaything that I knew I should – that I knew how to hurt. I… I killed her. Quickly. I—”

Schiester had backhanded him across the mouth before he could finish the sentence.

Each confession had been worth it. Each one had come with a beating that had left Gavin screaming in pain, but each was worth it. He had confessed his crimes to someone who would punish him for them, and properly, not with easy forgiveness. And what was more – each confession earned him a blanket that held off the cold. Still, despite the blankets over him, he shivered with cold sweat.

He didn’t try to raise his head or look around. He simply lay still, frozen in place with the pain, trying and failing to cease to exist. Terror was a steady thrum alongside his heartbeat, as he knew at any moment his tormentor would return and use this agony against him. There was nothing he could do to stop that now. He could no sooner stop the pain than he could stop the sluggish beat of his own heart, matching the dull thud within his own head. Each breath whooshed softly into his nose, huffed softly out of his mouth. His body was a heap of mechanical processes that carried on, even as his every reason for living had abandoned him here. His life was simply a serious of moments extended by the sadistic whims of the man still keeping him alive. Schiester made his commands, and his body obeyed. Nothing would stop the pain. There was no such thing as relief in this basement. There was no ice, no rizatriptan, no mercy.

Isaac had stopped looking—

“Gavin.”

Gavin cried out and flung himself upright. Isaac stood at the side of the bed, one hand outstretched and almost touching him. Gavin quaked with each panting breath as his arms shook under him and finally collapsed. Pain seared behind his eyes as he stared up at Isaac, who was starting to blur with tears.

“Are you alright?” Isaac murmured.

“You… g-got me out,” Gavin croaked. His mouth was so dry. His left eye felt like it was starting to melt out of his head.

Isaac sat carefully on the side of the bed, hand still outstretched. His fingers gently brushed through Gavin’s hair – Gavin realized then that it was soaked with sweat. “Yes,” Isaac said heavily. “I… I got you out, Gavin. Bad dream? Or…?”

“Migraine,” Gavin said, and pressed his face against the pillow. “Isaac, I—” He shoved a hand against his own mouth and dry heaved.

“Gray brought your rizatriptan,” Isaac said, rising again. Gavin groaned as the bed jostled. “Let me go get you some.”

“A-and water,” Gavin said weakly. “Please.”

“Sure,” Isaac said as he left the room.

Gavin trembled and clutched at the pillow beneath his head. As much as it pained him, he forced himself to look around, to take in the sight of the room – the peeling paint on the walls, the curtains lit by the sun slanting into the windows, the warmth of the light, the size of the room. It looked nothing like the cold, dark basement that had been his prison for what had felt like months. It felt nothing like the cramped, cruel cell where he had been kept. When Isaac entered the room again with a glass of water and a pill pinched between his fingers, the tears in Gavin’s eyes spilled over.

“N-not fucking going back,” he rasped. He dropped his head and muffled a sob against his pillow as Isaac sat beside him once more.

“No way,” Isaac said, every word sounding strained. He held the pill to Gavin’s lips, and Gavin took it, willingly.

Schiester could have drugged me this way.

The thought was a brick in Gavin’s stomach. He could have put it in my food. He didn’t have to fucking… inject it. But… An entirely different thought crossed his mind that brought a chill to his heart. This could all still be a hallucination. This could just be how he’s keeping me drugged.

As Isaac tipped the glass of water to Gavin’s lips, Gavin hesitated. Isaac froze with the glass still held out. “You alright?” Isaac rasped.

Gavin trembled as he raised his gaze to Isaac. Isaac’s eyes were brown, not blue. And he hadn’t hurt Gavin at all. Not yet. But Schiester could be playing the long game. After all, he’d been playing the long game by letting Gavin think he had escaped to the north safely back in May. This could all just be another fucking joke to him, like faking the hanging after he murdered Lucy and Topher.

Isaac swallowed hard. “Gavin?” he said softly. “Is… What—”

Gavin raised a shaking hand and dug the pill out of his mouth. It was already beginning to disintegrate and leave a gritty residue on his tongue. He stared at it between his fingers, then looked back to Isaac again.

Isaac’s eyebrows pulled together. “Gavin, what are you—”

“What happens to me if I don’t take this?” Gavin breathed. Light pulsed on the left side of his vision.

Isaac’s eyes widened. “What happens…? Nothing, Gavin, nothing happens to you. Except maybe your migraine doesn’t get much better. I don’t…” He reached out to gently stroke Gavin’s cheek.

Gavin flinched at the contact. Isaac jerked his hand back like Gavin had bitten him.

“Gavin,” Isaac said, realization crossing his face. “No. This isn’t… come on, Gavin, this is—”

“Prove it, then.” The words barely made a sound as they passed Gavin’s lips. He reached over to the nightstand and rolled his fingers together until the sticky pill dropped onto the wood. He nearly threw up then, just from the effort of holding himself up with his head pounding so ferociously. Shaking, he returned his gaze to Isaac – or the specter that could be wearing Isaac’s form. He braced for the collapse of the illusion: the sneer of contempt, the flash of violence in Isaac’s eyes, the snap of his fingers as he ordered the guards who must be currently outside of Gavin’s vision to step into the cell with him and hold him down and hurt him—

Instead, a horrible, guilty brokenness crawled across Isaac’s face. The lines around his eyes deepened, and a terrible sadness tugged at his mouth. He held his hands out, at his sides, empty and harmless. His eyes swam with helpless tears.

“I… w-won’t make you take anything you don’t want to, Gavin,” he said weakly. “I was just trying to help.”

Gavin’s throat tightened, and he could feel nothing but heat and pain. He squeezed his eyes shut and grasped at the relief of the momentary darkness. Then, he blinked his eyes open and reached for Isaac. Isaac’s shoulders fell, and he let Gavin take his hand.

“P-please,” Gavin whispered. “Please, I just…” He sobbed weakly and whimpered when that only ratcheted up the pain in his head.

“Here,” Isaac said, tears falling down his own cheeks. He guided Gavin to lay down again and stretched out beside him. “No… no pills. Just… I can just be with you. And hold you. Would that be… would that… help?”

“Yeah,” Gavin croaked, his throat still tight. He could barely see out of his left eye, and every heartbeat was agony. Still, Isaac was here. Isaac had his hands on him, and was pulling him close, and was holding him. He buried his face in Isaac’s chest and let out another broken sob.

Even as he shivered and twisted in Isaac’s arms from the pain, his heartrate slowed. The Isaac holding him was solid and real, even nothing else in the world was.

Something prickled in the back of Gavin’s mind. He swallowed hard, swallowed back the terror and pain that quivered beneath his skin; the Isaac holding him was real, because Daniel Schiester would never, ever have allowed Gavin Uriah to say no to him. The pill lay on the nightstand beside the bed still, beside the untouched water glass.

Continued here

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[stefisdoingthings]

ark aftermath

[iamjackstylerdurden]

shoutout to house md eps that end with a montage of couples and then hilson. maybe patient and their s/o, chase/cameron, lucas/cuddy, and then just. hilson.

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

Okay wait so dream had a vision of the future kinda like what shattered dream had and tried to change the future is that what happened?

Dream: my eyelights Nightmare: the villagers are giving us a lot of stuff. it's nice. Dream: my eyelights. Nightmare: i like your new eyelights. Dream: please keep yours. Nightmare: …I'll try?

Villager: Dream, I need to talk to you. Dream: oh! is this about your dislike of my brother or your house burning down? i heard about it. that must've really sucked :) busy lately? Villager: uh- yeah. My sister was terribly injured in the fire, so we need apples for her recovery.

Villager: my mommy told me to give you this Dream: thank you, Charlie. tell your mom i said hi. Villager: it's a pie. Dream: thank you. Villager: she says your brother is a bad person and should be executed. i think i agree, 'cuz he's really scary. Dream: he's really nice. you should be nice to him. Villager: oh. okay! he's still really scary though.

Prophecy Nightmare: HEY. Dream: AAAAAA-

Villagers: "Are you okay?" "Dream, can I get an apple?" "Are you okay?" "Are you okay?" "Are you okay?" "Can I have an apple?" "Are you okay?" "Are you okay?"

Nightmare: are you gonna sleep tonight? Dream: no Nightmare: did i- do something wrong-? Dream: no Nightmare: are you okay? Dream: no Dream: yes

Prophecy Nightmare: LYING TO YOUR BRO? COLD. Dream: god damn it

[infinisent]

my favorite tfs oc, rules… tfa-ified bc i love the tfa scene on here

it only took me over two whole months to scrape together some more art Hey guys i lived

[starays13]

So I’ve had this scene rotating in my brain as if my brain was a microwave

[sandinthepipes]

Jaskier got picked up by his ex and the first thing he did was get naked to show off the new merch and when he thought it wasn't enough made a comment about how hard his nipples were.

What a legend

[artkaninchenbau]

An AWS comic

[mispatchedgreens]

by the two-edged sword

Baoxiang knows he is poison

band au/ 5k/ m

[delhe-dalim]

Stuff in common I found between Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars) and Splinter (Tmnt2012) bc that happens when u are hyperfixated with fictional characters:

-Both being badass powerful and wise jedi/ninja masters, responsibles for the main characters' training (Anakin/Luke-the turtles)

-Mental powers

-Both went into exile after some heavy events that changed their lives (the Great jedi purge / mutation)

-They had a brother in the past, but things didn't turn well :(

-Both lost the woman they loved (bruuuhhh)

-Trauma™

-Buuut despite all their suffering and pain, they never went to the dark side (well maybe Splinter for a lil bit, but that was the damn Rat King's mind control, not his will 🤓☝)

-This thing I noticed in the Tmnt 2012 artbook (this rat kinda reminded me of obiwan, now I know why)

-At some point they appear as force ghosts lol👻

-These little details that had me 👁👁

*Facepalm*

*strokes his beard*

robeees

-Sweet moments with children 😭

The whole Lone rat and cubs episode and the bond between Obi-Wan and little Leia had me like 🥹🥹

idk I'm a big fan of cuteness so watching that made me happy

-According to the character database, both are INFJ -Whatever this type of character is called, I like it

Although their context of their stories are different, I found curious to notice some similarities! so here I am, sharing them and thanking you for reading this far

[bengallemon]

okay so its going to be impossible for me to write a full post about isat until after my 2nd playthrough and i have a bunch of notes, but i WILL be insane about how the senses are depicted, especially things siffrin smells, tastes and sees.

(spoilers for the whole game but when i get to act 4/5 ill put it under a cut)

because it starts off normal. everything that's experienced for the first couple of loops is alright, and that's because siffrin's mental state is still mostly the same as when they went into the house for the first time with the squad.

until the text starts commenting on little things, like how the cookies are getting old to the malanga fritters not being exactly the same as how sif is trying to remember, to how whenever they get to the end and talk to the head housemaiden how they smell burnt sugar just before looping back to the start.

the most jarring is the sight. slowly, throughout all the loops you start seeing an image of siffrin standing somewhere, such as in a hallway, before vanishing, and it gets a bit more common the more loops you've been through. it becomes more obvious the more things taste less like anything (and the more the game comments on how siffrin's stomach feels) and how easy it is to miss something new someone says (because you and siffrin are speeding through everything you hear), how quickly his mental state is declining.

(now spoilers for acts 4 and 5 because thats when it gets Real)

during act 4 it's possible (for some ungodly reason), when talking to bonnie at least for the first time in a loop, for the music to cut off and their sprite suddenly be half covered in black. because. why not. (this happened the second time in act 4 i talked to bonnie in dormont and i jumped badly)

the most probable explanation for seeing this is because of how the last moments in act 3 are of bonnie literally being crushed by the king's hand. probably siffrin remembering what happened and it starting to overlay in his vision.

it's probably also why you see other sifs throughout the castle, especially the further along you go. either he's seeing vestiges of past loops, or hallucinating. probably both. their mental state is getting more and more worse.

act 5 shows this even more, with blacked out sprites of the other characters and visions of them in places such as the break rooms, or getting their dialogue when interacting with objects despite siffrin being completely alone in their rampage throughout the castle. most notable is the mirror room dialogue.

how the initial picture you see during act 5 is with the whole family, until you view it and siffrin is completely alone. how the memories of the past loops are overlaying with the current one to the point where his senses are starting to become more unreliable.

during act 5 as well if you interact with any candles they smell sweet. before siffrin either didnt smell anything or it was something he didnt really know.

anyway. siffrin's own senses becoming unreliable reflecting his own deteriorating mental state is a brilliant touch to add to the horror in the story. (even without talking about how his relationship with touch is).

postgame our man absolutely would not be able to trust his sense with how the past looping affected his perception of everything around them.

[whump-tr0pes]

Honor Bound 6 - 32

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Masterlist

Contents: past hallucinations, PTSD, past abuse of a minor, attempted confrontation with abuser, abuser co-opting language of activism, gendered slurs, fucky headspace about abuse, thoughts about self harm, flashbacks, harm reduction

~

Isaac only realized he had been tensing every muscle in his body when Gavin started to fall asleep. It happened slowly at first, Gavin’s head relaxing into the pillow, then the pained lines in his forehead disappearing bit by bit. Gavin’s breath slowed, and his hand released its death grip on Isaac’s shirt. Gavin’s leg twitched, as it sometimes did as he was drifting off, but Gavin didn’t wake. Then, and only then, did Isaac take a full breath and release the tension that had been surging through him since Gavin had looked at him with suspicious, terrified eyes and refused to take the medication that would bring him relief.

It was only through sheer will that Isaac had not collapsed to his knees right then. Isaac had withstood so much within these past weeks, and could have withstood more; the ever-present fear of Gavin’s death had hung over him like a sword both waking and asleep. Isaac had nearly watched Gavin die. He had thought he had watched that very thing.

And yet, nothing could have prepared him for the moment Gavin looked at him in distrust, in fear, and thought Schiester was the man standing before him.

Isaac crushed the thought before it could fully bloom. I have him back, he thought fiercely. It’s enough. It’s more than enough. It’s more than I thought I would ever have again. If this is… If this is the price…

He shuddered and wiped his eyes. Even having Gavin look at him with that much distrust, it was worth it. Of course it was. He leaned forward, brushing his lips to Gavin’s forehead as gently as he could manage. Gavin drew in a shuddering breath, but stayed asleep. Isaac’s chest ached as he gazed at him, his eyes lingering on the darkened, puckered scars that stretched over Gavin’s nose, cheek, and eye. If Gavin was awake, Isaac would kiss them. For now, Isaac just wanted Gavin to sleep.

An icy finger of dread brushed down Isaac’s back. He turned his head towards the front door, listening for a sound his body had known to listen for before his mind even registered there had been a noise. Even through the closed bedroom door, he could hear the front door open. He was up and out of the bed before he had time to draw breath.

“Don’t fucking shoot, Isaac, it’s me,” came Vera’s voice.

Isaac’s fingers ached. His hand was already in a fist at his waistband, closed over a gun that wasn’t there. He panted heavily and rushed out of the bedroom, terror and rage ebbing away, replaced with sharp annoyance.

“Shh.” He closed the bedroom door behind him and glanced at Vera – and Gray, who stood behind her, face like a stormcloud. “Gavin’s sleeping. He has a bad—” The rest of his thought evaporated when his eyes returned to Vera – her eyes were wild, a muscle standing out in her jaw like she was trying to crack a molar. “Wh-what?” he breathed.

Vera snorted. “We should probably talk,” she bit out, voice thin with sarcasm.

Isaac’s stomach dropped. “Oh… fuck, what—”

“Vera met Rosa,” Gray said darkly.

Fear punched through Isaac’s chest. In the same breath, hope threatened. “Is… Oh. Is she… alive?”

Vera barked out a mirthless laugh, then covered her mouth with a hand and threw an apologetic look at the closed bedroom door. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Ah… yeah. She’s… she’s alive. Because someone—” She roughly elbowed Gray in the ribs. “—wouldn’t let me murder her in front of this town’s mayor.”

“Kali isn’t the mayor,” Gray said, their tone only a little imperious. “But forgive me for not allowing you to burn one of the few bridges we have up here.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Vera said. A slight smile undercut the harsh words. “But yeah, uh… we should probably… talk about that.”

“Talk about what?” Isaac said. His hands were starting to shake. “What is there to talk about? She did what she did, and I… did what I did, and—”

Gray stepped forward. “Isaac, that’s not—”

“—now we just have to… deal with her. That’s just how it is.” He pulled a shaking hand through his hair, forced himself to breathe – then breathe again, and slower. “If we’re going to… coexist—”

“They’re dead because of you. You know that? We went out to fight and you were supposed to be there, to protect us, and you weren’t. You preferred to not take the shot. You preferred to run like the useless piece of shit you are.”

He shuddered. “We h-have to—”

“But we don’t, Isaac,” Gray said carefully.

“Vera said we’re not allowed to kill her,” Isaac said, doing his best to loosen his hands from the fists they were in.

Vera rolled her eyes. “You know where I stand on this issue,” she sighed. “But yeah, like Gray said, we don’t actually have to deal with her. At least not all that much. Because she doesn’t actually live here.”

Isaac stared at her for a long moment. Then, slowly, he said, “What do you mean, she doesn’t actually live here?”

Vera massaged her temple and gestured for Gray to speak. Gray wet their lips and said, “We just finished speaking to Kali. And… meeting Rosa, unfortunately. Kali said she doesn’t live here, she just gets mail here and passes through every now and then. And that… well, Kali said she would like to mediate a conversation between you and Rosa.”

“When?” Isaac choked out.

Gray spread their hands. “I… don’t know. She didn’t say. Rosa left in a huff before we could work anything out.” They gave a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea, Isaac. At least you would have a chance to air your grievances. But either way, Kali wanted to do it because she thinks it would help. And because… well, because essentially we aren’t allowed to keep trying to kill her every time we see her.”

Isaac surged forward and staggered out the front door. Vera and Gray stumbled to follow.

“Wait… where are you going?” Vera said.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Isaac whimpered. “I can’t… keep wondering when she’s going to turn up again, expecting her around every corner. If Kali wants to do this fucking talk, and this is what it’ll take in order for us to live here, then fine, but…” He muffled a sob into his hand and dashed tears from his eyes. “I’m not fucking waiting. I’m doing this now. I…” He stumbled, then stopped. His heart pounded against his lungs as he sucked in breath after too-small breath. “Wh-where is she?” he rasped.

“Rosa?” Gray said cautiously. “I don’t—”

“No, Kali,” Isaac said. “If she wants to have a talk, I’m going to talk to her now.”

“I don’t know, Isaac,” Gray said. “When we saw her she was in the post office, but—”

Isaac whirled and began to jog down the lane into town.

Gray and Vera hurried to follow. “She might not still be there, Isaac!” Gray said, already breathing hard. “She, I told you she was there, I have no idea if she—”

“Call her,” Isaac said over his shoulder. “Call her and tell her to meet me.”

“Isaac, stop,” Gray said. They skidded to a halt and braced their hands on their knees to catch their breath. “Let’s talk about this.”

“No,” Isaac begged. Gray raised their gaze to his. “Don’t make me fucking wait, Gray,” he croaked. “Don’t make me keep going through this. Please.”

Gray straightened and took a deep, wheezing breath. “Fine,” they said roughly. “But I’ll go with you.”

Isaac turned on his heel and kept walking in the direction of the post office. His heart felt bruised; every beat felt like a blow to the inside of his ribs. Vera fell in beside him. Gray lagged behind, tapping away on their cell phone. After they sent off a text, they jogged to catch up.

Goosebumps rippled across Isaac’s arms and back. He didn’t speak as they walked into town, didn’t glance at Vera as they all passed by the shops on either side of the street. When he finally laid his eyes on the post office, his stomach twisted like he might be sick.

“Is she there?” he said thickly.

Gray checked their phone. “She responded,” they murmured. Then, “Yes. She’s there.”

Fear and revulsion thundered through Isaac’s veins as his feet carried him closer. He couldn’t feel the tips of his fingers when he reached out to grasp the worn wooden handle on the door. He didn’t wait to take a breath before he yanked the door open and walked in.

Only Kali stood inside. Isaac’s throat tightened and he turned to look at Gray, eyes wide with terror and confusion.

“I… meant Kali was here, not Rosa,” Gray said, shaking their head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“Where is she?” Isaac rasped. He looked helplessly at Kali. “You said you wanted to talk, so…” He held his arms out wide. He hated himself for how hard he was shaking. He blinked back the tears that threatened in his eyes. “I’m here to talk. I’m not… not armed, so…” His hands fell to his sides again. “Let’s just get this done, if this is how you think we should handle this.”

Kali’s brow was deeply creased as she looked at Isaac. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Alright,” she said carefully. “I see you want to… make things better.”

“No, I just want this to be fucking over,” Isaac whispered, so he wouldn’t choke. The tears in his eyes spilled down his cheeks. “If you want me to talk to her, I’ll talk to her. If that’s what I have to do, then…” He shrugged and held his arms down at his sides, hands balled into fists. “Let’s just get this done.”

Kali held Isaac’s eyes with a steady gaze. “Isaac…”

“Now!” he cried. Kali flinched back minutely from the booming command. Isaac buried his face in his hands and muffled a sob. “What the fuck?” he breathed. “You wanted to talk, can I please just—”

“I’m sorry,” Kali said in a rush. “Isaac, I’m sorry for causing you grief. I didn’t mean to, please believe that. But I… well, maybe you should just read it.” She pulled a phone from her pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and handed it to Isaac.

On the screen was the end of a text conversation between Kali and Rosa.

September 22, 2030 2:45pm

Kali: we got mail for you today

September 22, 2030 9:50pm

Rosa: thnk u

September 28, 2030 10:22am

Kali: I’d like to resolve this between you and Isaac Moore’s family. What do you say to having a conversation with him that I mediate? This would be planned and in a neutral location, with no threats allowed on either side, with safety and repair being the goal.

September 28, 2030 10:24am

Rosa: r u serious? fuck that actually

September 28, 2030 10:24am

Rosa: I can’t believe ur taking his side

September 28, 2030 10:25am

Rosa: after everythng I’ve gone fr the resistance I can’t believe this

September 28, 2030 10:26am

Rosa: if ur willing to allow those people to stay nd continue to spread their lies about wht happened to Jordan, fine. ur in charge here. but I will no longer affiliate w Laporte. this isn’t just smthng u can just ‘mediate’. consider me gone.

September 28, 2030 10:30am

Kali: I understand you being upset. I’ll give you some time to yourself and reach out again in a few days.

September 28, 2030, 10:30am

Your message cannot be delivered.

Isaac realized he was breathing hard when the words on the screen began to blur. He held the phone out with a shaking hand and looked up at Kali.

“What…” His mouth was dry. He swallowed hard. “What does that mean? What…”

Kali threw a glance at Gray, who was looking at her inquisitively. “It looks to me,” she said with that same sense of unending patience, “That she isn’t interested in having this conversation or… being in Laporte anymore.”

“Give me that,” Vera snapped, and grabbed the phone from Isaac’s hand to read the last exchange. She snorted and looked up at Gray. “‘I will no longer affiliate with Laporte’? Is she serious? Was she somehow contributing in a huge way to the resistance that we just… haven’t heard of over the past several years?”

Kali opened her mouth to speak. “I—”

“What, is her presence here so fucking special that her refusing to come here anymore is some sort of punishment?” This time, Vera fixed her eyes on Kali. “Well? Have we just misread this?” her lip pulled back in a snarl.

Kali met Vera’s vicious gaze with her own steady one. Finally, she said, “Sometimes people lash out when they feel hurt. Her identity as a resistance fighter is clearly very important to her.”

“Perhaps, then, she should work on being an effective one,” Gray hissed from the corner.

Isaac still stood in the center of the room, shaking like a leaf. He kept waiting for fear to hit, or rage, or relief. Nothing rose up to fill the emptiness that had opened up inside him. He felt like he might buckle under his own weight.

“Wh-what does this mean?” he repeated.

“It means the trash just took itself out,” Vera spat. “I wouldn’t spend any more time worrying about her, Isaac. Apparently being confronted with the truth is enough to send that bitch packing.”

Isaac’s eyes and mouth were dry. He swallowed hard, swallowed again. “She’s… just gone?” he said softly into the room. The words seemed to fade into the buzz of Vera’s rage and the pounding of blood in his ears. “She just… left?”

His eyes snapped to Kali’s when she took a step closer to him. She had to crane her head back a bit to look up at him, but she met his eyes without blinking. She reached out and took both his hands in hers. They were rough, calloused, but warm and dry. She squeezed his hands in hers, and he found himself squeezing back.

“I am so, so sorry,” she said, her voice so kind that it brought more tears to Isaac’s eyes. “She clearly hurt you so much, and I’m sorry. I was hoping for some kind of healing. But… I hope this is a solution that works almost as well.”

Vera snorted. Isaac couldn’t see her where she stood behind him, but he could see Kali’s mouth tighten in response. “I understand if you see this as better,” Kali said.

“The woman was okay with using a child soldier as her own personalized bodyguard and hitman,” Vera sneered.

“I wasn’t a child when she first brought me into the field,” Isaac said, releasing Kali’s hands and turning to face Vera. “I was… t-twenty-one when she—”

Vera held up a hand, silencing Isaac. “I don’t want to hear it,” she snapped. Isaac’s mouth fell shut.

Kali cleared her throat softly. “If I might suggest something, Isaac,” she said. He looked down at her and waited for her to speak. He was tired in his bones, tired in his soul. He was tired of fighting, tired of being afraid. He was tired of being tired. She wet her lips and said, “It seems like the people who hurt you… well, it seems like they’ve all decided to stay in your past. So maybe something that would be helpful for you… would be to start by learning that the things that were done to you… were indeed mistreatment? Were indeed unjust?”

This time, it was Gray who snorted. “I’ve been trying to tell him that for… oh, over a year at this point,” they said with a gentle, good-natured laugh.

Isaac couldn’t find it in him to laugh, or cry, or even reach for the flame of anger that always burned inside him. He shrugged, a hollow, jerky movement. “Probably, yeah,” he said flatly.

Kali’s mouth pursed, and she gently patted Isaac’s shoulder. “Alright,” she said. She glanced at Vera and held out a hand for her phone. “If I could have that back…?” Vera placed the phone in Kali’s hand, and at least had the dignity of looking a little embarrassed for having snatched it away in the first place. Kali tucked the phone in her pocket and rubbed her hands on her worn jeans. “Well,” she said. “I’ll… I’ll keep y’all posted on the goings-on of the town. And I’ll make sure you get notified next time mail gets dropped off. I know that… once you’ve settled in, it’ll feel like home. I’m… sorry things have started so rough.”

For a long time, no one said anything. Isaac’s jaw ached as he clenched his teeth, swallowing over and over against the lump in his throat. It was the only sensation in his body, and he clung to it, all too familiar with the numbness that was creeping through his veins.

His knife could chase the numbness away, he knew that. It had done it so many times already. If he just took his knife, and—

“Who gave you this, huh?”

“M-my—”

A blow lashes across his face, spilling the tears that had been brimming in his eyes. He presses a hand to his stinging cheek and returns his frightened gaze to the woman kneeling in front of him. He didn’t mean to fall asleep, he didn’t, but he’s been awake for two days already, maybe three, he lost count, and he’s so tired…

Rosa is fiddling with his pocket knife, the one with the sharp steel blade and the red plastic handle, the one he has using to try and keep himself awake, the one given to him by his—

“My… dad gave it to me,” he hiccoughs, fighting back a sob.

Rosa chuckles, folding and unfolding the blade from the pocketknife. “Your dad, huh?” she says, her voice cold and sarcastic.

“Yes, please give it back…” He reaches for it.

She snatches it back, out of his reach. “No,” she says with a vicious grin. “You fell asleep on watch. Second time this month. Clearly giving you triple duty didn’t teach you better. Maybe this will.” Isaac’s stomach drops as she folds the knife a final time and tucks it into her pocket.

“No!” Isaac sobs, and lunges for it. He’s so tired, he’s so tired, and Rosa easily trips him. He goes sprawling into the dirt.

Rosa snickers and walks away. “Don’t fall asleep on watch again, Isaac,” she says, not bothering to look back. “You won’t like what happens if I catch you doing it again.”

Isaac blinked and shook his head against the sudden memory. His right hand was curled into a fist – no, curled around his father’s pocketknife, lost forever because of the mistakes he had made.

Enough sensation returned for him to register a weight in his stomach as he released his fingers, one by one. He felt the loss of his father’s knife as if it had just happened – as if Rosa had just walked out the door with it a few minutes ago. He swallowed against more tears and pressed against the unhealed cuts at his wrist.

“Gray,” he said weakly, unable to feel embarrassed when his voice cracked as if he was sixteen years old. “Can we head home? I… I’d like to… I need some ice.”

He felt Vera’s confused gaze, but didn’t look at her. He turned and looked only at Gray.

They took a deep breath, let it out. “Of course,” they said gently. They stepped forward and tucked him under their arm. “Thank you, Kali, for meeting us again so soon.”

“Anything y’all need,” she said with a shrug. She gave them a kind smile as Isaac let Gray lead him out of the post office and back out into the morning sunlight. Isaac wound his arm around Gray’s waist as they walked. Vera followed silently behind. Isaac could feel her confusion and curiosity, but couldn’t bring himself to explain the ice right now. She would find out when they got home anyway. For now, Isaac let the tears fall freely as he walked down the main street of Laporte, not caring if anyone else noticed.

Continued here

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[fallenwhumpee]

Let Me Go

• Masterlist •

Warnings: Past character death, hallucinations, inecplicit injury.

"You're trembling," the voice called. It always warned, always told things Leader would rather ignore. Leader's limbs were hidden beneath the oversized clothes. They had weakened too much that they were lost in fabric once perfectly fit them.

I know, they couldn't mutter out, keeping their gaze on the papers. They were in the middle of a room full of veteran soldiers. Their slip would be noticed. Last thing they wanted was the people they led doubting them.

"You're afraid," it continued.

Leader crossed their arm overtheir chest, hiding the tremor taking overtheir hands. They were. But they couldn’t act paraboid just because they were afraid either. The plans before them were solid. Only if Leader could get over this nagging feeling…

They were going to march into Whumper's biggest investment, a military grade communication building straight out of their small rebellion's league. Of course they were cautious.

"Thats not why you're afraid," the voice called out their lie. As if Leader didn’t know. But Leader refused to acknowledge the real reason.

"Are you listening, Leader?" Right Hand asked, putting a hand over their healthy shoulder for a moment.

"Yes," Leader sighed, both to the ghost and to their commander.

"Your commander, not second in command. I dont know if i should pity you or feel proud that you refuse to replace my position."

Leader ignored that, too.

"Perhaps you shouldn't join the mission. You look like you can barely carry yourself," Right Hand sighed. Their voice was surprisingly gentle, considering this was a feral beast under Leader's wing. A fierce protector with an admirable personality.

"Too much like me."

"I'm fine. Just thinking of alternatives," Leader assured, not really lying. There was something bugging them about the plans. There was something they were missing.

"If you say so," Right Hand grumbled, not believing it for a moment but also not pushing. "Then we're done here. We should rest until tomorrow."

"So concerned about you. Make sure they don't end up like me," the ghost chuckled.

It was not funny.

"I'll stay here for some more time. There's something bothering me about the plan," Leader said instead of snarling at the ghost. It earned a deep silence, but people left the room one by one.

"You know we can pull this off, right?" Right Hand asked just before reaching the door. "We can, and we can come back in one piece."

"I know," Leader assured. Leader had confidence in their squad.

"Lie." The voice pointed out.

"But Leader, can you?" Right asked, worried. That had to change. Leader had no right to make people concerned.

"Yes," they answered with a tone leaving no room to doubt.

"Lie," the voice said again. And it was right. Again.

"I'd rather be thrown into a rehab facility rather than being a burden. I wouldn't insist on coming if I felt unwell," Leader tried calmly. It satisfied Right Hand at least.

"You'd rather be tortured rather than letting them go alone either," the ghost smiled sadly.

Caretaker, Leader wanted to shout. Just let me go.

"But you're the one who can't let me go, Leader," Caretaker sighed. And Leader almost, almost saw them standing behind Right Hand with their usual attitude.

"You know, I… I thought it's because you didn't trust us to pull this off. Now I see it's because you care too much," Right Hand gave a cheeky smile. They didn't know anything. They had no right to dig Leader's soul.

"I don't want all of you to die before we get to see freedom," Leader countered with a half truth.

"Because if you admit you care, they will end up like me. If you let them any closer, they will die," Caretaker said uncharacteristically. Those sounded a lot like Leader's own words. Rightfully. Leader would sign under those. But hearing Caretaker recite those just felt wrong.

"Because I'm not here," Caretaker bit their lip. At least that was in character. "It's your mind. Unable to accept this is just—"

"Just admit you care, and I'll drop it," Right Hand of course kept pushing. Because Leader couldn't have a day without their sanity being played with, bith by the living and the dead. They didn't want their feelings to be questioned. Sure, Leader welcomed challenges to their authority as long as it wasn't destroying their function, but this qas outright invasive.

Leader held Right Hand’s gaze a moment longer, steadying themself before speaking.

“Enough,” They said firmly. “I’m counting on you to focus on the mission, not on me. I don't need it but the squad will, in the battle.”

Right Hand’s lips parted as if to argue, but they seemed to think better of it, glancing away. “Understood, sir,” they replied, their voice tainted with hesitancy.

Leader forced a small smile, holding onto the guise of calm as tightly as they clutched the edge of the table. "I appreciate the concern, Right Hand, really. But we both know I wouldn’t be standing here if I thought myself unfit for the task."

Right Hand stood by the door, lingering. But finally, they nodded. "Of course, sir."

With that, they turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind them.

Silence settled like dust. Leader let out a long breath, slumping to their seat slightly, letting the practiced poise slip as they leaned against the table.

“Impressive. You’re still so good at pushing people away, even when they’re trying to help,” Caretaker’s voice drifted in, almost softly this time. Leader could picture them at the edge of the room, arms folded, an understanding look shadowing their gaze. "You’d rather fall apart alone than lean on them."

Leader’s fingers tightened around the edge of the table. "I didn’t ask for your opinion."

"No. But you just asked me to be there."

“You’re not here,” Leader forced out, pressing the words like a blade into their own mind. “You died, and you’re not here. So stop trying to haunt me. I didn't ask for this. Leave me alone.”

“But I’m here because you want me here,” the voice pressed. “You can leave me to die. Yet you don't let me go.”

Leader closed their eyes, trying to block out the words that hit too close to home. Every part of them wanted to deny, but they couldn’t.

"They don’t see it. How close you are to breaking. Love, you are destroying yourself.”

Leader didn't answer. They were done arguing with nothing. They were wasting precious time. They metaphorically showed the ghost and locked their feelings away. It wasn't like Caretaker could keep them from working. Not anymore.

And if they fell asleep on the blueprints of a plan from scratch, their body covering the tear marks on discharged papers, no one noticed. No one noticed - or mentioned even if anyone did - Leader not getting out of the room until midnight and walking to their room like a ghost at daybreak.

[karamazovposting]

I've briefly talked about it before (it's somewhere in my bipolar Ivan Karamazov agenda tag) but I genuinely love how Ivan's situation is treated through the story and I really relate to it because it's so realistic and well done.

I mean, Ivan himself openly and casually admits that yeah I might kill myself in less than ten years but it's not a big deal or anything mid conversation with his brother who he hasn't seen in almost a decade like it's a completely normal thing to say and think about (because to him it is) and the narrator is like oh Ivan sees dead people sometimes but it's alright and everyone else is just cool with it.

Yes, Ivan is struggling with his mental health, but it's not treated as an epic descent into madness for the drama or for shock value or a Jekyll and Hyde or extreme situation out of ignorance or, worse, mockery. He's just a mentally ill young man being treated like a person who needs help (I wish the people around me had been as concerned and caring as Alyosha and Katya were, to be honest) and even if it's a story written and set in the 19th century, no one's ever disrespectful towards him: no demeaning language (for the time period), no mockery, everyone takes him seriously and it's even highlighted that he's still capable of rationality (his defining character trait; he has not lost himself!); even after the whole trial fiasco, no one's angry at him, they just acknowledge that he's unwell. There is something particularly delicate about how his character is handled, a particular kind of sensitivity and softness paired with a lack of exaggeration and spectacularization that really positively surprised me when I first read the book because I wasn't expecting Ivan's condition to be an accurate portrayal of what I have been through and live with every day.

Even when Ivan is distressed by it, the story never gets too dramatic with that and it never drags it on for too long and that's what I love about his talk with the devil and the trial: it's all very neutral in the most respectful way possible given the context. I don't really know how to explain this, but (at this point everyone and their mother knows) I have bipolar disorder and that's exactly what living with it (or any mental health condition I guess) is like: it's casual, it's normal, it's not a big deal; that's just your life and you gotta live it. There is a lot of nuance that I didn't think I would find so accurately portrayed in a novel from almost two-hundred years ago.

Ivan is more or less neutral towards and comfortable in his own chaos because what else can he do, really?

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

Dream: at least come out and talk to me

Villager: you need to stop talking to your brother. Prophecy Nightmare: WHAT? Dream: …excuse you? Villager: See? There's your attitude. Prophecy Nightmare: I Prophecy Nightmare: . . . Villager: He's corrupting you with his demonic powers. Prophecy Nightmare: KILL THIS MAN.

Prophecy Nightmare: HEY Dream: DON'T EVEN START.

Villager: his skull broke! can you believe that? all i did was throw his book at him and it CRACKED! like an egg! Dream: ??

Nightmare: uh. m Nightmare: hi! brother. i Nightmare: i fell out of the tree. again Nightmare: sorry Dream: oh! that's okay, i can patch you up :)

Dream: ARE YOU SULKING

[drowningstarfish666]

Alastor & Lilith as Odysseus & Athena. A young inexperienced overlord clever enough to stand out to a goddess-like being who takes him under her wing. She mentors him for years and years, but then he meets someone. Someone who changes him and turns him a little softer. She feels him turning away from her. She knows he's doomed, but she still tried to help him and make him reason, because she grew attached. He eventually tries breaking off their deal, she gets angry and breaks it herself, not even caring anymore because the heartless monster she mentored isn't there anymore. She starts resenting him, until he does something so stupid that he loses everything and she has to come to save him.