#probably a semi suicide tw

[sebastianxainsworth]

Sharks // self para

Once Sebastian knew the phone he set against a stack of books remained steady enough at a safe distance on the desk, he moved to take a seat in the chair and lifted his hand as a small awkward wave of greeting. “Hi.” Feeling stupid, he leaned forward to get up and start over before something changed his mind. “You know what, screw it. No one’s probably ever going to see this anyway.” Okay, this had to be one of the most idiotic things he has ever done and not only was it idiotic, but it bordered downright sad. Imagine someone walking into the office, perhaps a mansion staff member, watching the head of household talking to himself in his phone's camera. The absolute lunacy.

"So, this was the part of my sessions when I had them with Dr. Beckett," Sebastian began calmly, "Where I would record a video as something I could watch when I was at my lowest. The times I needed a reminder of what I was fighting for." Affirmation therapy was the proper name Madyson called it by. After she presented the idea to him at first, he dismissed it as a useless tool. What purpose does a silly video have on his broken psyche especially in a city where bad shit happens every second? "Of course, I can point out that I have very little to fight for these days, but why throw a pity party? I'm on shaky ground with the woman I love who still believes I attacked her faction, I lost my therapist, and haven't found the proper footing with my best friend. Just to name a few," Seb splayed his palms along the desk's glossy surface, "Then there's Davenport. My supposed birthright, the home that's taken so much from me and given little in return."

Sebastian breathed a steady sigh and shifted his gaze toward the window, "What is it about this place that sucks you in? I mean, Eleanor offered a chance of freedom on a silver platter and I flat out refused because I'd rather chain myself stubbornly to a place I've resented than watch it fall into her hands." His eyes landed back on the camera lens, "Mistakes, there's been a few. My brother, for instance," He paused, "Theon tried preparing me for this business whenever it was my time to take over, but it's like I conditioned my mind to despise him from the beginning. He pushed me over the edge. The disregard, the coldness, the arranged marriage, what he did to Ryan, Theon was wrong about all of it." Seb dragged his attention from this exercise and yanked open the drawer beside him before reaching for the familiar pill bottle. He unscrewed the cap and popped two capsules in his mouth, swallowing them down dry. "Doesn't mean I regret the fact he's dead."

Even though everyone essentially knew Theon's blood was on his hands, Sebastian wasn't dense to confirm it on candid camera. What were the chances his phone fell on the wrong detective's radar like a fucking godsend from the heavens, building a victory case that guaranteed a righteous win? Derek Monaghan, in particular, had it out for him since the beginning. He remembered the Savitri blast about his relationship with Ryan, how Derek seemed to almost enjoy the implosion between the Ainsworth brothers. Just desserts. "I regret that article. My so-called apology." A sad scoff passed the man's lips, "If I had just played my part and kept my mouth shut, she wouldn't have destroyed my life. Thought I was doing the honorable thing offering empathy with the position she was placed in, but that backfired like every move I make these days."

"And maybe that's the real problem," He spoke after a contemplative moment, "My righteousness, my need for penance, that shit doesn't fly in St. Cascadia. I want to be a good person, I thought I was at one point during my life, but I cannot force the members of the faction to support me while I'm stuck behind my family's shadow." His father's reign amassed years' worth of loyal followers who feared him as much as they respected him. He wasn't the first to implement the contract system, however, it's a tradition Theon carried over during his domineering Davenport's inner workings. Dozens of deals landed on the former leader's very desk, each one as strategic as the last. "It's like my blood's in the water and I'm swimming with sharks. You can't have your weaknesses exposed and sure enough, the niceness they took advantage of...was a weakness."

"That isn't to say, I wasn't completely nice. I've had my unhinged moments." Sebastian lifted the pill bottle in his palm and shook it gently, the tip of his mouth quirking dryly, "My previous therapist and I began on the wrong foot. The one thing now standing between me and seeing a very dead Theon are different therapeutic measures and a boatload of pills I could fill the entire manor with. Modern medicine, ladies and gentlemen." He stuffed the bottle back in the drawer with a flourish and winced at the squeak of the antique wood as he closed it. "It does well drowning out the voices in my head. You know the ones, right? Quick to tell you you're not good enough, smart enough, that you deserve any awful misfortune happening to you."

The next statement came after a long beat, "That it's better if you just stopped breathing." Seb ripped his gaze away in a shame written all over the young man's expression. He tried giving the city what it desired and even then, he wasn't strong to accomplish that successfully. "I lost control. After Theon's death, I became a monster reveling in the darkness. Others share the blame, certainly." The ones who would remain unnamed. They knew who they were if these people ever came across this video, "I was manipulated. My choices, yes, but to say I was egged on is something I can't deny. Those moments..." The sentence trailed, "You know what it's like to be unmade?" Sebastian rhetorically asked the camera and the imaginary audience that would never exist. "To feel someone else take away who you were and almost stuff somebody different back in? I didn't know who I was for a long time."

If he posed the question to the likes of Judas Langley, Eleanor, or even Benji, they would blatantly conclude he utilized a shovel and dug his own grave, slowly burying himself alive in ignorant decisions that easily began with Theon's great fall. It's worth pondering then an alternate reality where Sebastian fell in line with becoming a leader, learning at his older brother's side until he was absolutely ready. He'd know the rules of the game, holding contracts, commanding an entire faction dedicated to his family. No Ryan, no reason for Benji's banishment, only an agreed marriage to Eleanor Cabello securing their foot hold as an unstoppable power couple. Suits and limousines, meetings and sleepless nights at the Ainsworth tower, rinse and repeat.

Yet, destiny selected an unexpected twist. All that's left are the ruins of Davenport's longest standing family and a business seconds from destruction. "I'm beginning to understand who I have to be now." Sebastian threaded his fingers together and rested them on the table in front of him, "You don't win over respect with a shiny apology or a goody good heart of pristine gold, you earn it." Or take it. "Sure, some, if not most, still carry hatred for me and that's fine. Even Theon faced naysayers who repeatedly compared him to our father." And in turn, the comparisons between the brothers will persist no matter what he did. "I'll never make everyone happy. Some change is good, but I can't be successful if I don't at least embody some of my brother's core ideals." He began rattling off the list, "Strong, intuitive, cunning, staying one step ahead and bringing fresh solutions to the table while ruling the faction with a cutthroat approach. Don't get your hands dirty if you can pay someone else to do for you. And more importantly, don't allow anyone ever to defy you."

"The law of the land." Sebastian raised his hands in a shrug and leaned back comfortably in his chair, "Kingdoms crumble at the hands of a leader with one hundred percent morality. Do you think my pops and my brother obtained a cult following if this drug cartel wasn't involved? No, anyone who deals in addiction don't possess a single drop of virtuous intention. I really do hate what sustains this faction's economy, but it's no better than guns or prostitutes. An unfortunate living." He couldn't tell which is worse, drugs or the dealings keeping Hedgstone and Newford thriving. "The best place to start is formulating a business plan and pray it's enough to renew an alliance with prior close associates. And if I'm lucky, it reaches the people."

A few contemplative minutes of silence sliced through the air and had anyone been watching what was previously recorded, it's a fair assumption if they believed the quiet is the result of damaged audio. One thought crossed his mind, one person gripping the man's humanity resting in her palm. Sebastian unclasped the chain looped through a piece of jewelry concealed from the world that hung from his neck ever since the marriage. His wedding band. Removing it from its proper place, he held the ring between his index finger and thumb, inspecting the physical symbol of his love for his wife. "Theon remained content leading from the top alone, I however, won't. If I really want to learn a thing or two, if I want worthiness, I need Ryan. Whether she cares to be with me in any capacity is up for debate, it's just breaking the status quo working with a Vincent peaks my curiosity." He slipped the ring on the appropriate finger and sighed. In the privacy of the office, no one will notice the secret elopement. At least that's a comforting indulgence. "The scandal."

"Anyway," Sebastian absentmindedly spun the ring around his finger, head slowly shaking, "I missed the entire point of the assignment and rambled. I'm sitting at Theon's antiquated writing desk, engaging in a one-sided conversation with my phone while I stumbled upon realization after realization. Somewhat looking like a jackass. How's that for affirmations?" He sarcastically quipped, reaching out for the device and cupping it in his hand before staring at his reflection in the screen's video imaging. The small frame left Sebastian's tousled hair to be desired and anything more than that couldn't be said for the man's growing beard. "I no longer need to waste the energy trying to change myself, I'll be what they need me to be. St. Cascadia, Davenport, it never really evolves apart from the revolving door of leaders." He adjusted the phone closer to hammer home his opinions. "Same shit, different day."

"Time to change with the times." Sebastian shot the lens a tight smile and stopped the recording.

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

"yes im so fine"

*researches whether i can get my hands on ipecac*

[nocinovae]

I have many feelings on the situation around abuse and power dynamics and assault that are coming to light at the moment. For the most part I feel that other peoples rage and statements are worded better. Though I had some thoughts and as someone who enjoyed psychoanalyzing fictional characters I have some realizations about c!Wilbur that I think some people will appreciate. Other than that Support and Listen to Victim. Don’t Put Streamers on Pedestals.

I hate how much I and so many people loved c!Wilbur for being a morally flawed traumatized mentally ill character.

The type of villain to enjoy in media but in a “I like them as a bad person. They fill the role they were written for very well.”

We took them as a “this is a bad person to enjoy through media” character. He showed the experience of how trauma and mental illness can effect relationship and morals.

I felt like I could take him as a caricature, an exaggerated form of many of my own insecurities and dark parts of myself.

BUT NO All c!Wilbur was was a self insert character of the writer’s desire for control and power over the people around him. Same with any of his other “characters” that we all thought were meant to be satire dark comedy of disgusting men in the world.

And he let us all believe this. It’s ironic the way he literally had his self insert pity oc kill himself after not having his apology accepted for all the harm he caused. How he was so distraught with having to actually work for redeeming himself more than just his words that his actions that he thought would resolved that was killing himself for a second time.

All the nuance and grey area I loved saw in c!Wilbur has been destroyed with the truth we all now see in William Gold. And that goes for so all of his artwork.

At least with this new lense on the artist we can take another view of his art and see deeper into the truth of What a Disgusting Piece of Shit this man is.

[aparticularbandit]

i also should probably grapple with the fact that technically in the fic proper ultimate despair (as in the group, not as in junko (and mukuro)) are still at full power.

like.

dr2 tells us that when junko died the vast majority of ultimate despair committed suicide. that's why the remnants are called remnants - they are literally the remnants, the remaining pieces, of ultimate despair, the ones who didn't commit suicide when junko died graphically on screen at the conclusion of the killing game.

(they probably wouldn't refer to themselves as remnants. they would refer to themselves as members of ultimate despair. the other members might refer to them by a very specific name, since they would be considered junko's inner circle, but it wouldn't be remnants. it would be something else.)

((and the idea of izuru as junko's left hand man where mukuro is her right. or even that he's her right hand man, this secret shadowy figure who primarily operates in the shadows, who no one knows, who they suspect exists but no one's ever really met. just a bogey story within ultimate despair. (like maybe there are other remnants of despair who aren't that inner circle who whisper about junko's right hand man stepping in and taking over now that she's gone. but that's a different story. maybe.)))

anyway.

in oaei, junko doesn't die. she is not murdered graphically on screen. sure, sure, she might be staying in the old building of hpa, but she's still alive. and that changes things.

if junko's not dead, then the vast majority of ultimate despair did not commit suicide. they're still alive, functioning just the way they're supposed to, with the assumption that junko's got a plan or something.

(this also supposes that either 1) the vast majority of ultimate despair knew that junko was their leader already or 2) that whatever she brainwashed them with required them to die when she did. like - for them to commit suicide over her death, they would have had to believe that she was their leader and not just another operative within their ranks. you know?)

but like.

this means in oafc, ultimate despair is still functioning at full power. they don't really need junko out doing things in the world for them to continue as they have been; she's been trapped in the old building and separate from them for quite a while and they've been doing just fine, actually. so as long as she's not dead, they're not dead and still going.

things i should probably address at some point.

[aireia]

from the stars did your kindness bleed through. — you are a spy, he is a sorcerer, a student in the very place you plan on betraying, but he doesn't know that, because he'll fall for you, the same way you fell for him.

tw/cw: reader referred to with she/her. angst with little fluff. hurt no comfort. spy! reader. spying. mentions of blood. minor violence. blades. suicide/ self harm. death. injuries. lowercase intended. author's first language isn't english. wc: 7.5K

note: riko told me to rival her 6.2k word fic, so i'm pulling up with this. (i got carried away) —masterlist

entry snippet, september 5th.

gojo introduced us to a new student today. she seems a little bit like me, but she isn’t, at least that’s what our unreliable teacher told us.she hasn’t interacted much with itadori or kugisaki, even after their pestering. i’m guessing it’ll take a while for her to get used to the new faces. not that it concerns me anyway…

the sun didn’t shine very brightly the next day. grey clouds covered the skies, the winds were getting colder, the once green leaves on trees were turning into a mixture of yellows and browns. winter would be approaching in just a few months, which meant they’d soon have those nights again, where they’d get permission to stay at each other’s dorms and have sleepovers while trying not to burn the kitchen down by making ominous hot chocolate for each other.

that morning when the trio walked into class, they were greeted by you absentmindedly staring out the window at the falling leaves. no concentration to any surroundings, considering you didn’t even look at them when they came in. yuji was the first one to say something, loudly greeting you a good morning, followed by your name, hoping to catch your attention.

you looked over to the trio, trying to take note of their expressions. 

itadori yuji, who seemed excited, waving with his arm in the air and a grin as if you were worlds apart and you wouldn’t have seen him if he didn’t.

kugisaki nobara, who waved with a smile on her face. the perfect mix of crazy and calm, you think.

and finally, fushiguro megumi, who had his arm raised in an attempt to wave, but instead looked like he was raising his hand to answer a question. his expression showed nothing, something between irritated and ‘why am i friends with these people again?’ 

he reminded you of yourself… in a way. probably not what you were thinking about him, but something about him. maybe it was keeping interactions at minimum with people he didn’t know much about… yea. you’ll keep it at that. 

the hyper duo had walked up to your desk before you finished processing your own thoughts. itadori slammed both his hands on your table, causing some of your things to vibrate upon contact. 

“so, y/n, where are you from? what grade are you?” he asked.

“i’m from osaka, and i’m a semi second grade sorcerer.” lies spilled from your mouth easier than when you breathed around them the day prior. being a spy meant having to detach your identity as a person, which also meant having to create layers and layers of lies about who you actually were. 

right before the cheerful boy managed to get another question in, the door of the class flew open, and gojo walked into class with nothing but happiness and positivity surrounding his aura… he was about to send all of you on a mission. you knew, even if it was just a gut feeling.

a loud clap followed by details of a new case confirmed your suspicions. a simple investigation in shinjuku about an unidentified curse that had caused deaths and disappearances of innocent civilians, as well as injuring numerous others.

“i’ll be leaving the rest of the details to our trustworthy assistant director ijichi! he’ll be waiting for you at the entrance.” gojo finished his ‘speech’ before hurrying all of you out the door.

-

“that gojo…” ijichi silently sighed before beginning the mission brief. 

“your task is to only collect information from the residents in a specific area of shinjuku, mainly the offices around schools.” ijichi stopped speaking, only continuing after a brief period of silence. “If you happen to run into any high grade curses, please don’t try to challenge it.” 

“my heart can’t take this type of stress anymore…” ijichi sighed.

the four of you began the mission shortly after, around 10am in the morning. you began by questioning some of the residents. a lot of them seemed nervous the moment anyone in your group mentioned the curse, some even running away from you. most of them didn’t have any information either. 

when noon rolled around and your efforts weren’t bearing any fruits, the four of you decided to split into two groups. nobara with yuji, you with megumi. after the split up, you and megumi continued the search for anyone that might have had any type of intel. you never expected him to speak to you first.

“l/n, right? let me be straightforward about this. why did you join jujutsu high school?” 

“to spy on you, obviously,” but you couldn’t say that.

“to help others,” another lie slipped past your lips.

“...did principal yaga actually let you pass the interview with that answer..?” 

“no, but i doubt you’d want to listen to the speech i memorised to get in. he told me to stop before i finished it,” you sighed, remembering the amount of struggle you faced a few days before the interview. you had to ensure you had a 100% chance of getting into the school, or you would’ve been a failure as a spy. who the hell failed a mission before it even began?

megumi looked at you with a bewildered expression, though quickly shook the look off his face as you approached an ice cream vendor near one of the high schools. 

“recently, less and less people have come by to buy ice cream. a lot of those were kids who would come by to get a sweet treat after school, so i have noticed quite a few of those disappearances.” the vendor placed his fingers on his chin, thinking of the customers that he enjoyed speaking to, even if their interactions were limited.

“alright. thanks for your time,” you expressed your gratitude, even though the things that the vendor had said had helped you in your investigation in… absolutely no way possible.

just as you and the raven haired boy walked away, your phones rang. a message from yuji, reading, “we ran into one of the victims that managed to escape the cursed spirit!! apparently most of the victims are people who’ve lost or cut contact with their parents. they won’t tell us anymore about it.”

“that’s vile,” you thought to yourself. 

“we should meet up with them and report back.”

-

“so, what do we do now?” nobara whined out of boredom. ever since reporting back, there hadn’t been much to do. you all had a free day, but nothing to fill said free day with.

“we should go watch human earthworm 4!” 

“no.” nobara and megumi said in unison, wanting to avoid the movie at all costs. 

“oh! y/n, we should go shopping together!” nobara suggested. and somehow against both yuji and megumi’s wills, you had all been dragged to go shopping.

nobara suggested that she helped you get a new wardrobe, which ended in you trying on multiple sets of clothes. nobara insisted that you got them, and forced megumi to carry your shopping bags even though you said it wasn’t needed and felt bad that he had to help.

the rest of the day went by with a blur, and you exited the mall after the four of you had a few photos taken in a photobooth. 

“my child…” everyone was walking in front of you when you heard that voice. it sounded oddly familiar, and it was calling out to you. you whipped your head around to look for the source, but there wasn’t anyone there. the call of your names continued, and you strayed from the group to look for the source of the sound. 

you were almost one hundred percent positive that it was the curse you had investigated the other day. why was it targeting you? and no one else in the group seemed to hear anything either. 

eventually, you were led to an abandoned building. you could feel the cursed energy leaking from it, and there was a very pungent smell coming from the abandoned structure. you briefly wonder how no one has flagged the place for an investigation yet. maybe it was, and was ignored. who knows?

the voice continued to lure you closer to the building, eventually getting you into the building and up the slippery stairs, wet from the leaking pipes around the building. your footsteps echoed in the building, the sound of your breathing in your ears. 

you walked up to a room with a closed door. a heavy stench seeping from the gaps of the door, even worse than when you were in front of the building. maybe coming here hadn’t been your best idea, but you were already this close, so why stop here? 

you exhaled deeply before twisting the rusty knob open. you saw the dead. blood and corpses were by the spirit’s legs. its claws were digging into the flesh of the innocent, shaking the body as if trying to toy with it more.

the report you submitted was done a week ago, and the incident started way before this. these bodies had been rotting for weeks at least. assuming the cursed spirit in front of you killed all the people around it, you were going to be next. 

you entered a defensive stance, hand on the handle of your weapon, ready to fight if it pounced on you. instead, you watched as it slowly turned its head towards you and walked towards you. your body tensed, but it didn’t seem to bear any hostility. 

it held its hand out, taking one of your hands, and you found yourself unable to move. even when you screamed at yourself to get out of the way, you found yourself unable to resist as it dragged its fingers along your wrist, a thin line of red bleeding out.

“l/n, step back!” the familiar voice snapped you out of whatever trance you were in before the spirit in front of you was hit with a few nails. 

“you’re just like fushiguro. you really should tell us more about yourself, you know?” nobara sighed, holding her hammer over her shoulder. “oi, i’m the one who noticed she disappeared in the first place,” megumi grumbled. you looked at his hands. 

so that’s how they found you.

“if anything, she reminds me of when you first came to the city, kugisaki!” yuji chirped in, seeming laid back even in this situation. he turned to look at you. “you aren’t hurt anywhere else other than your hand, right?” you shook your head.

you looked at the spirit on the ground. it was a first grade at most, but it had been weakened significantly, probably even before you arrived. it wasn’t long before you exercised it, with some degree of resistance. 

as the three of them prepared to leave, you walked towards one of the dead bodies and crouched down, placing your hand over them. 

while yuji and nobara had already left, megumi was curious about what you were doing. you got up and exhaled when he asked. “i don’t know if it works on those who’ve already passed, but usually, my cursed technique allows me to grant people on the verge of death a better demise.”

“it overrides the brain and erases any and all memories they have in exchange for peace, and a painless goodbye.”

“those two are probably waiting for us. we should report back.”

-

when you got back to your dorm, you took the picture out and stared at it. more people that you couldn’t be friends with, but they had saved you earlier… maybe you’d get it framed just to decorate your dorm.

you looked at your injured arm, which had been bandaged, and closed your eyes. 

yuji itadori is physically gifted, a guy born with a set moral standard. his mental game is easily shaken, but that might change in the future. he has a ton of room for improvement. that’s what makes him scary. 

nobara kugisaki is strong-willed, a woman born by the countryside. she cares for others the way she cares for herself, and doesn’t like showing her affected mental state to the world. she’s strong in her own way, and that’s just the type of person she is.

-

weeks passed by quickly. you continued gathering as much information as possible, while growing closer to your classmates. yuji often told you to cover up for the pranks he pulled, nobara would invite you out to go shopping with her, and you and megumi enjoyed reading together.

one morning, you saw megumi sitting by the benches eating alone. right, yuji and nobara had recently been dispatched on missions. you realised early on that you preferred to be with megumi out of everyone. 

maybe it was his personality that drew you in? the both of you were paired up on missions often, so maybe the fact that you were partners helped develop your trust in each other… when he shouldn’t be trusting you at all. or perhaps it was the way he put you first instead of himself. 

megumi is a selfless person that might not seem caring at first glance, but actually does in his own way. he holds back a lot, and has a mind matured enough to compare to that of a man twice his age, though lets loose around people he can truly find comfort in. that was the conclusion you came to about his character. 

you walked towards him, hoping to be able to make small talk with him. instead, you were called upon by someone right before you got to him. 

-

“so this is the location?” you and megumi had been informed of a cave infested with multiple third and fourth grade spirits. your job was simple. take care of them and go home. 

“yea. be careful,” you said, gripping your weapon tightly. 

you and megumi stepped into the cave, almost immediately registering that there was something wrong. a veil was lowered. were such low grade spirits capable of such a thing? you gulped and looked around. just the herds of lowly graded cursed spirits around. no signs of anything else.

“be careful.”

the both of you managed to make quick work of the spirits. a few scrapes, sure, but you were overall uninjured. now, there was only one problem. every last spirit in sight had been exorcised by you and megumi, but the veil wasn’t lifting. something was still there, and you both knew. 

something in your senses clicked. “fushiguro, jump out of the way!” you screamed at him. there was something underneath you, and megumi had dodged just quick enough to not be drilled and split into two halves. 

a drop of sweat rolled down the side of megumi’s face. how would he deal with this? his first thought was to have you distract it while he attacked, but that would probably be useless and would put you and him in too much danger. 

“fushiguro! focus!” megumi lifted his head up, and you were in front of him. you had blocked a direct strike for him. he needed to concentrate. this wasn’t like the spirit you had dealt with at the abandoned building, where it showed little to no hostility, and had been weakened.

“are you back in your game yet?” you breathed out, the tiredness from blocking the attack and dealing with the earlier curses starting to kick in.

megumi took one look at your expression and hummed. there was something about it he couldn’t read, but he can’t let his thoughts consume him now.

you aren’t allowed to die here. 

the both of you observed the curse for a little longer while simultaneously dodging its attacks. it primarily dug underground to attack, which made it hard to predict where its location was. the only warning sign was the rumbling of the ground before it drilled back up, which made it just a little easier to dodge. 

it could blast balls of pure cursed energy, and with each dodge meant the interior of the cave was crumbling. you’d have to look out for falling rocks and stray boulders. 

its weak point was probably somewhere other than its head, considering it used it to dig into places. 

you shot glances at each other before megumi summoned his demon dogs to attack it from behind. “i have your back.” 

you and megumi took turns switching on offence and defence. the one on offence would deal attacks to the cursed spirit, while the one on defence would watch out for oncoming attacks and destroy any rocks that were falling from the ceiling of the cave. 

the plan worked well for the both of you. the uncertainty of when the both of you would switch out confused the curse, making it more vulnerable to your attacks. once you felt that the curse was confident on when you’d switch, you and megumi delivered one final attack to it together, letting it fall with a thump. 

“is it over?” you heaved, your hand over your chest. a sudden realisation hit. the veil hasn’t been dropped. that meant– 

“l/n, look out!” megumi pushed you out of the way before he got hit by a shot of pure cursed energy. you hear the sound of his body smashing against the rough walls, and his coughing afterwards. you looked towards megumi and briefly saw him cough blood out. you’re hoping he didn’t take the impact head first. 

you narrowly managed to escape another blow just when your eyes snapped back onto the weakened, but still active cursed spirit. it can be exorcised in a single blow. 

you rushed towards it and drove your weapon through its body as hard as possible, twisting, and slicing right through it. it’s as good as dead. you stared at the splatters on the floor that used to be a cursed spirit. you don’t have time for this. 

turning your head away from the remains of your enemy, you focused your attention to megumi who was bloodied and injured. he was resting against the stone walls of the cave, and you could hear his heavy pants and breaths. you gulped and looked at his leg. it had stopped bleeding, the crimson now staining his leg.

you ripped a part of your uniform before crouching in front of megumi to tend to the wound. your eyes showed almost no emotion in the face of the situation, yet your trembling lips gave yourself away. you weren’t supposed to care for them, and yet here you were helping one of your targets. 

you only spoke up once you finished bandaging his wound with the makeshift bandage.

“why would you do that?” you had unintentionally let your emotions slip. megumi looked at you tiredly. “just returning the favour. i would’ve gotten hurt if you hadn’t blocked the attack at the start of our battle.”

“fushiguro-” you started, quickly being cut off by megumi. “i know what you’re about to ask me,” he coughed a few times before he continued to speak. “you’re assuming i’m going to die? you’re cruel, you know?”

you tried to find words to speak, yet all you could say was a “no, i’m not,” turning your head away to not meet his gaze.

“i would kill myself if i died on you now,” he confessed, closing his tired eyes. 

“and besides, you’re all i really want to think of right now.” 

megumi went completely silent afterwards, and you heard soft breathing coming from him, compared to the heavy breaths from just a few minutes prior.

the next time he awoke, you were asleep, your head in your arms by his bedside. he felt a little sluggish, but his wounds had been properly bandaged and he was fine, aside from some soreness. you on the other hand, looked exhausted. there were creases on your forehead as you slept, and dark circles under your eyes.

there was a plate of food wrapped up on his nightstand, with a note stuck to it. “we make a good team.”

only after did he learn from shoko that you had completely gone against her instructions of two days of bed rest, and spent the time taking care of him instead. 

-

“you still couldn’t have brought something more digestible?” megumi eyed the three of you, who had brought pizza to him. something that probably wasn’t nutritious enough for a patient in recovery.

“if you don’t want it, i’ll help myself!” the pink haired male took a slice of the pizza and began feasting on it. “oh, and since we’re already here, let’s just have our sleepover at fushiguro’s!” “itadori, talk after you’re done eating!” nobara shuddered at the sight of the food in his open mouth, while megumi looked as if he were about to kick everyone out of his room.

“we are not having a sleepover in my room,” megumi said in a deadpan voice, though the annoyance was evident on his face. “we can’t have it anywhere else because you aren’t permitted to leave your room, fushiguro,” you joined in on itadori’s suggestion.

“hypocrite,” megumi thought.

“alright it’s settled, we’ll have it here!” nobara clasped her hands together in victory, earning a sigh from megumi. “i still haven’t agreed to this,” he grumbled.

-

december 21st.

it’s cold outside. the temperatures have dropped significantly ever since the day you stepped foot into jujutsu tech. currently, you, alongside two of your classmates, were camping in megumi’s room. you had to admit, with so many people, the room considered spacious for one person became cramped.

you were sitting on megumi’s bed with a mug of hot chocolate in hand as you watched nobara and yuji fight over what they wanted to put into each other’s drinks. you found their sibling dynamic entertaining. megumi on the other hand, looked at you with softness in his eyes. the both of you had grown a lot closer compared to the first day you met. you were grateful for that.

maybe not in the right way, but at least you knew he was your friend, right?

the night went on with both chaos and comfort. yuji had suggested playing cards at one point, and he lost just about every single round. monopoly was going great until megumi somehow dominated the game so hard that the banker had to borrow money from him. 

“i’m telling you fushiguro, it’s just this once! i’ll pay you back!” “you’ve said that about three times, itadori.”

you certainly weren’t in any place to laugh, and neither was nobara, since the both of you were basically hanging onto a thin thread, and if by any chance you landed on anyone’s property other than your own, you would’ve been out of the game from bankruptcy.

but you laughed anyway.

the night ended with all of you (except megumi) in your respective sleeping bags with extra blankets in case it got cold. it was quiet. too quiet, even with yuji’s snoring and nobara’s breathing. maybe that’s why you couldn’t fall asleep.

you slowly sat up, careful not to make too much noise. you looked at the clock on megumi’s nightstand. 11:47pm, thirteen minutes till midnight. 

“can’t sleep?” a quiet and soft voice invaded your ears, and you looked over to megumi. he was lying down on his bed, staring out into the bushes and trees, which had been covered in a thin layer of snow. as a response, you shook your head and got up to sit on his bed. the both of you sat in silence for a while before you spoke up. 

“fushiguro, you like the stars, right? wanna go stargazing on the roof?” 

“are you crazy? it’s freezing outside.”

“we can use blankets.” 

“have you forgotten that my leg’s still injured?” 

“i’ll carry you up.”

that was how you found yourself sitting on the rooftops with a thick blanket around your shoulders. the stars shone brighter tonight. the cold winter wind that breezed by you every once in a while made you shiver. you looked up at the moon, it was full tonight. although the moon didn’t have an expression, you were sure it was smiling down at you and the raven haired boy sitting next to you.

come to think of it, even without exchanging a lot of words, you’d argue that you were closest to megumi out of all your classmates. when you first met him, you saw him as the moon, someone like yourself. yet you realised over the months that if you had to describe him, you’d have to say he were the stars. so pretty, yet disregarded by many as something outshone by the moon. 

“y/n,” megumi’s voice broke through the comfortable silence, and you looked over at him. he had a small smile on his face. you felt him shuffle closer to you. maybe it was getting cold? the wind was getting stronger, afterall.

“yes?” megumi looked at the moon once more, then back at you. “the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” the words reached your ears, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “and what of the sunset?” you questioned him back, feelings hidden behind your eyes and the convincing smile you put on your face.

“the sunset? i dislike it. the rays of the sun blind me too much for me to appreciate it as much as others do.” the sound of your soft laughter reached his ears again when he finished his sentence. “is that so…” you rested your head on his shoulder and looked towards the skies, some of the stars now covered by clouds. “really? i think the moon is beautiful too, but i’m the opposite. i prefer sunsets over moonrises.” you continued, one of your hands inching closer to him and eventually resting on top of his hand.

you exhaled deeply before lifting your head up. “fushiguro, what time is it?” he looked at you with confusion before answering. “a little bit past midnight, i’m guessing.” “oh.”

“may i kiss you?”

your question caught megumi off guard. it was expected, considering it came out of nowhere. a familiar warmth creeped up his face, and the hand on top of his now seemed to weigh heavier as you looked at him, awaiting an answer. he slowly nodded, and you leaned in to press your lips against his. the kiss was short and sweet, the light of the stars shining down upon him as you did.

“fushiguro-” 

“don’t call me by my last name.” you smiled when he said those words. 

“happy birthday, megumi.”

-

nobara eyed the both of you suspiciously, looking you up and down. “you guys could at least try to keep it down when you’re climbing onto the roof. i need my sleep,” 

“i thought i was being quiet. my bad,” you apologised sheepishly. the brunette looked clearly annoyed before she sighed and let it go. 

“sorry,” megumi said to you. “why are you saying sorry?” you shot him a confused look. 

“we would’ve been quieter if you didn’t have to carry me.” 

“oh, thaaattt,” you dragged your words out. “don’t feel bad. you were worth it.” 

“how about you come with me to the cliffs sometime? maybe in the next few days? there’s a great view of the ocean and sky from there, and it’s more secluded.” the invitation fell from your lips before you even processed it. 

a rare smile appeared on megumi’s face. “alright.”

“what are you two doing?! we have a mission soon, hurry up!”

-

he kept to his word. you and megumi ended up going stargazing together so often that yuji and nobara started questioning if you were going on dates. to them, it was blatantly obvious that you two liked each other. hell, even the both of you knew. it was just that none of you had confessed yet. 

megumi always felt warmth when you guys would go together, pointing out constellations and shapes of the clouds when you did. 

you on the other hand, felt the spark between you grow stronger the first few times. you tried your hardest to suppress the rising guilt. afterwards however, you spiralled deeper and deeper into the guilt you felt as a spy. you were never supposed to fall in love with him, and yet you couldn’t help but do exactly that. 

you wanted– no, needed to get rid of your feelings for him. you would never want it, but you’d need it in order to get over him.

you began growing more distant. it was hard, slowly excluding yourself from hangouts and ignoring them more and more, day by day. you felt terrible. every second away from them felt agonising. you’d push them away, dismissing their help. 

the fact that they noticed your distance made it feel even worse. you were going to betray them, and everything you had built up for four months, their trust, friendship, it would crumble.

you’d complete your mission and switch identities again. anyone you’ve met here won’t matter anymore once you disappear. that’s what you reminded yourself.

-

january 25th.

“oh, you’re here,” you approached megumi from behind, sitting down beside him. the skies were dyed with violet and orange hues, the sunset that megumi had once described to be too bright. 

“i was waiting for you. you’ve been quite distant lately.”

“i thought you said you hated the sunset?” you asked, changing the subject to avoid the question. “don’t try to change the subject, y/n. answer me, please, tell me what’s going on.” you could hear the alarms in your mind go off. you wanted to get up and run away. hell, you should’ve never succumbed to the burning feelings in your heart over your mind. 

“it’s really nothing. i’ve just been more busy lately, i guess,” a lie rolled off your tongue again.

megumi sighed. he could tell you were lying, but he didn’t want to push it. “you said the sunset was pretty. i thought the other day that maybe it was because i never took the time to appreciate it, but…”

“hm?” you hummed, looking at megumi. 

“i still can’t see why you like it that much. i still prefer the night skies better.” 

the soft laughter you let out afterwards had goosebumps pricking on his skin. he watched as the light of the sun glowed on your skin, and you looked at him. “i personally prefer the sunset…”

“but if you like the stars that much, i’ll be sure to hate the sun and love stars the next time i’m reborn.”

a light shade of red appeared on megumi’s face, and he turned to look away from you. in reality though, he’s glad. there’s the girl he fell in love with. “you don’t have to do that. we can like what we want.” 

“and i want to be able to truly love the stars.” you said, your tone sullen. 

night fell not long after, but there was no moon that night. the waves underneath you didn���t seem calm either. it was especially cold this winter night, and you and megumi found yourselves bidding goodbye to each other in front of the dorms earlier than you expected. 

mental entry, january 25th.

i wasn’t planning on seeing megumi at the cliffs today, but he was there. i was planning on spending the last day at jujutsu high alone. megumi and i really are alike. It’s a fault on my part, i guess. i grew too attached to them.

i don’t want to do this anymore.

you gulped, and just before he was out of earshot, you called out to him, grabbing his attention. he turned around to look at you, only for you to mumble a “nevermind” before quickly apologising and running back to your dorm. you couldn’t bear to tell him.

megumi was confused. why’d you suddenly call out for him? he decided not to dwell too much on it and went to bed. and the more he thought about it, the more he felt as if he had lost the chance to speak to you about something important, because you disappeared the next day.

you stopped going to classes, training, and you weren’t responding to texts either. any calls were immediately sent to voicemail, and other than the picture that the four of you took at the mall months prior, which was framed on your nightstand, your dorm had been completely emptied out.

megumi was the last person to see you.

the week following your disappearance, it was raining every day. although the higher-ups had confirmed to have launched an investigation for you, megumi was sure that they were looking into things much deeper than just your status as a missing student. he just wasn’t sure what it was. 

the first day you were introduced to them, he felt that you were different in a way. was this connected to it? 

the higher-ups had also told the first years to not worry, and that they’d take care of it. as if they’d ever listen. they had discussions every single day about where you might’ve gone, if you were okay or not, and why they couldn’t see signs of this earlier. 

they got confirmation shortly after that there were no signs of cursed energy from your dorm. it was as if you had never existed, and had it not been for the pictures you’d taken together, along with the texts you’d exchanged with each other, he probably would’ve believed it.

-

february 26th.

JUJUTSU HEADQUARTERS NOTICE

one, y/n l/n has been confirmed to be sharing confidential information to third party sources. she has hereby been expelled from both jujutsu high and the jujutsu realm as a sorcerer. 

two, the penalty of the crimes committed by y/n l/n is death. the execution will be carried out promptly.

three, second grade sorcerer megumi fushiguro will serve as the executioner for y/n l/n’s death penalty.

-

a full month after your disappearance, a notice was released by jujutsu headquarters. 

megumi’s head was pounding. he had just returned from a meeting with the higher-ups, and throughout the entire time he was in front of them, he wished for nothing more than for whatever you were accused of to be false. he was hyperventilating, his face in his hands. megumi swore he heard loud footsteps outside his room before loud knocks echoed through his room. 

 “fushiguro, open up!” the familiar voices of his classmates rang in his ears. no. as much as he wished to find comfort in his friends, he didn’t want them to see him in such a terrible state, so why did his legs move to help him stand and walk towards the door?

megumi doesn’t know whether to regret or to thank his decision of opening the door. his mind couldn’t register that it was yuji who placed his calloused hands on his shoulders and told him to snap out of it. even when they questioned him for details about you, whether he knew about your intentions, and if it was the reason you had grown distant the few weeks before you vanished, he answered vaguely. all he could think of was that it was over. you’re gone, and you’re never coming back. 

megumi wanted to run into the pouring rain and let it wash his soul away so he wouldn’t have to face reality. he wished he’d wake up and realise it was all just a dream, and he could still see your face when he walked out of the dorm in the morning. he remembers the words of the higher-ups so clearly, he was to carry out the execution without delay. he wants to be selfish and give the responsibility to either nobara or yuji, yet the better part of him stopped him from doing so. he can’t do that to them. for once, megumi wished that he would stop loving you.

that night, megumi had trouble falling asleep. he found himself tossing and turning in bed, his head constantly clouded with the many things that would follow this incident. it felt like hours before he managed to go to sleep. 

-

he saw you, right there by the cliffs. you were looking at the sunset again. now that he thought about it, how many of the things you’ve told him were lies? 

megumi walked towards you, standing beside you as he watched the sunset with you. 

“megumi, i understand why you dislike the sunset now,” you said to him, earning a puzzled look from him. “i thought you loved the sunset?” he asked. the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks reached his ears, and you turned your head to look at him. 

“it really is too bright. it doesn’t suit me.” you replied. 

“megumi, have you regretted it yet?” you questioned him back, and he gulped. “regretted what, exactly?”

“us.” 

megumi wanted to say yes. he did regret it. he regretted that he loved someone whose purpose was to eventually betray and leave him. yet, his answer was stuck in his throat, and he said he never did. not for a second did he feel that you weren’t worth his time. he looked towards the horizon, where the sun had now fully set, then at the sky, where the moon was supposed to be, and finally, back at you.

“you made me fall in love with the moon.” you chuckled at his answer.

“i thought you loved the moon from the start.” a brief silence ensued. one that felt comfortable. something he couldn’t feel for the past month when you were brought up.

“would you let me substitute the moon in your sky?” your voice pierced through the silence, and he responded almost instantly.

“always.” 

a content smile appeared on your face. “i’m glad.”

megumi’s eyes fluttered open, the sun shining in his eyes. the male rubbed tried to rub the sleep in his eyes away, only to be met with a damp feeling. tears? what was that about? his mind was hazy, and he swore he dreamt, but he couldn’t remember what it was about. 

he could remember the curve of someone’s lips. yours? yea, it was. even if he went through hundreds of lives, he doesn’t think he’d mistake someone else’s smile for yours.

he didn’t have time to think about that. through the hours of lost sleep, he had convinced himself he was ready to serve his role as an executioner, and he had a feeling in his gut he knew where you were already. at the place he had refused to visit. his mind told him that you had been going there every single day, waiting for him.

-

“you’re finally here.” megumi could feel his heart clenched as he heard your words, and the eerie silence that followed creeped him out. you had a smile on your face, arms behind your back as you looked at him. 

“why aren't you moving?” you turned your body to look at him and spread your arms out. “you need to do your job, megumi.” the smile on your face dropped when you noticed he wasn’t going near you. there were no signs that his shikigami were active either.

one step, two steps, you walked towards him instead. a part of you felt as if you were walking towards your death. you felt him flinch when you used a hand to cup his cheek. his skin felt cold and slightly damp to the touch. he had been sweating. you looked down. his blade was just inches away from your stomach.

you took his expression in, and you couldn’t help but hold back your laughter. megumi’s eyes widened when you suddenly laughed. he felt guilty for loving it. was it genuine? or another one of the things you did as a spy to toy with his feelings? 

“megumi, you’ve grown attached too, huh?” it only dawned on him then that you felt just as guilty for everything you were. 

“do you know what would’ve happened if you sold us out?” megumi spoke with poison laced in his tone, and a lump formed in your throat. “the world would’ve weeped for your sins, y/n.” your expression dropped completely. “i know that better than you do, and here i am, giving you a chance to end my life. yet, you’re hesitating,” you retort back.

“so hurry up already.” you looked at him with sharp eyes, looking for any signs that he might finally give in to the orders given to him. megumi’s hands trembled as he tightened his grip around the handle of his sword. “it’s not that easy to just…” he groaned loudly.

“megumi, do you want to know why they chose you to execute me instead of anyone else?” you sighed and stared directly into his eyes. “they knew i would have resisted had it been anyone else but you.”

your hands went to wrap around his. then, you slowly pry his fingers off his blade and inspect it for yourself. “you sharpened your blade. were you hoping to finish me off in a single strike?” megumi almost choked on air in response, and nodded.

your eyes softened. “how nice of him,” you thought. 

“how about this?” you stepped further away from him and pointed the sword at your skull. “i’ll be the one to carry out my own execution. then,” you pointed your finger at him. “you won’t have to bear the burden of killing me.” you could hear megumi’s heavy breaths. it seemed that reality had yet to crash into him when he first found you here. “megumi,” you whispered as you took one final look at him, “i think you know better than i that i wasn’t trying to give you an option.” you gripped the sharpened blade and winced at the pain as your hands bled, then flashed him a quick smile before you slashed your eyes.

you groaned, holding back the scream threatening to release itself in an attempt to sooth the pain in your eyes. you had no right after all the hurt you’d caused. you couldn’t open your eyes. it hurt like hell, but you didn’t want to see the look on his face either. you convinced yourself it was worth it. 

megumi felt as if he were frozen during the entire duration of your encounter with him. what was he doing? he was spiralling into his own thoughts, and here you were, handling your own execution because he was too much attached and too much in love with you. 

every nerve and muscle in your body seemed to scream at you as you gripped the handle of megumi’s sword tight. even then, your ears couldn’t mistake the heavy footsteps of your beloved as he ran towards you just as his blade pierced your abdomen. his scream rang through your ears when crimson spilled from your wound.

ah, it seemed that blinding your eyes wasn’t enough to keep yourself from thinking of his panicked expression and guilt ridden face.

then, everything went black. you weren’t sure how long you were out for. a few seconds, perhaps a few minutes? your entire body stung, as if you were laying in a tangle of thorned roses. one thing was for sure, you were dying. 

you felt something soft under your head instead of the grassy surface the rest of your body laid on. “megumi…?” your voice sounded tired and hoarse. “is that you?” there was a brief period of silence that made you doubt his presence, but a hum from him confirmed that he was indeed still there. a smile tugged at your face even through all the ache.

“i can’t see right now. look up.” megumi looked up, and realised today was the beginning of a new moon. he could barely see anything. “could you tell me what the moon looks like?” 

“a blood moon. it looks as if roses had bloomed on the moon.” liar.

“it’s not good to lie, megumi. but it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“very.”

you didn’t exchange any words to each other for a period of time after that. by now, your breathing had calmed down, and everything around you seemed hot and cold at the same time. something in you told you to let go of your consciousness, and another part wished you’d stay awake longer to feel megumi’s touch. be a little selfish, you told yourself. 

you shakily reached your hand up towards the skies. you balled up your fist, a part of your childish mind hoping you had caught a star.

megumi could hear his heart thumping in his chest, and he pulled your body closer to him. he thought to himself, even if there had been that satellite in the sky, his moon was going to stop shining soon. he couldn’t help but wonder if the stars in your sky had burnt themselves out. 

maybe all of them, except for the one that willingly let the moon outshine it.

“y/n, can’t you use your technique to give yourself a better death?” megumi asked, his hand supporting the weak, quivering fist you held up, his thumb brushing your knuckles.

“i can,” you replied back without hesitation. 

“but i’d have to erase everything that’s in my mind. and besides,” you flashed him a pained toothy grin. 

“you’re all i really want to think of right now, megumi.” 

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

fun fact: i actually invested sm into this fic i made sketches of the one of the curses

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) Drowning in formaldehyde (Prologue)

—

Tw: Danny is having a Certified Bad Time™️, dissociation, vivisection mention, suicidal thoughts (kinda?), basically just heavy angst for now

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

Note: you don’t need to read this chapter to understand the rest of the story, it’s mostly just to explore Danny’s headspace when he first escapes the GiW

(Pt. 1)

(Subscription post/masterlist)

—

Danny rocked back and forth, trying to soothe himself as the truck he was in continued to speed along.

It had been an eternity since he was captured by the GiW. He didn’t know why they were moving him to a new base after all this time, but he knew it wasn’t a good thing.

Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to feel afraid.

He couldn’t feel much of anything these days. The GiW had a routine and they stuck to it religiously, and that routine had sucked every bit of Danny’s soul out of him.

Something churned in his chest regardless. Anticipation? Excitement, maybe?

Perhaps they were finally going to let Danny fade. Was that a bad thing? Danny couldn’t decide if it was or not.

He wasn’t scared of fading. It seemed inevitable, especially with how he was treated on the daily. He would stop hurting if he faded.

Still, he’d like to see Jazz and Tucker and Sam at least one more time before he does. That would be nice.

The truck continues forward, unmoved by Danny’s thoughts.

The sound is nice, Danny thinks.

The hum of the engine, the crackling of pebbles being crushed under the tires, the electrical buzz of the anti-ghost handcuffs and shield keeping him trapped.

The only sound Danny’s heard the last few years has been the clatter of metal tools, the crunching of bone, the sawing and thunking and squishing of surgery, the murmur of voices.

It’s nice to hear something new, Danny thinks.

Strange, but nice.

The truck stops again. Another red light, probably. Danny continues rocking back and forth, back and forth, like the ticking of a clock.

Seconds pass. Second after second after second.

Danny hears shouting now.

Gunshots crack outside, and Danny sees holes appear in the side of the truck.

That’s definitely new.

Chaos is erupting outside. There’s a lot of screaming, and frantic footsteps, and cars zooming away.

The driver door slams open and shut. The truck speeds off, tires screaming as the driver swerves erratically.

Danny is thrown back and forth in the back of the truck, bumping up against the many weapons and other miscellaneous inventions stored alongside him. Pain blooms in his head and chest, an agonizing heat lining his surgical wounds. Danny licks his lips underneath his muzzle. It would be nice if the driver was a bit better at their job, he thinks.

The truck continues careening wildly.

Danny counts the seconds.

Second after second after second.

After around two thousand, three hundred and seventy four seconds, the truck comes to a stop. Danny didn’t lose count this time. He’s proud of himself.

The driver door opens and closes yet again. There’s chatter outside, excitement clear in the voices that Danny hears. There’s lots of talk of “congratulations,” and “lucky that the Bat didn’t follow you here.”

Then, the back of the truck is opened. Danny hears noises of confusion and shock. He turns his head, looking to see what’s happened.

There’s several men at the door of the truck. They’re wearing black tuxedo suits—Sam was right, black really is such a pretty color—and they’re staring at him.

They begin talking among themselves. Something about them not knowing about a kid, and not knowing what to tell the boss. It’s confusing to him. It’s not what he usually hears spoken.

Then, one of them climbs up into the truck. He approaches Danny slowly, speaking in a calm voice. He’s asking Danny if he can stand, he realizes, asking him if he knows why he’s in the truck.

Danny just stares at the silver glint of the gun at the man’s side.

It’s a nice one, he thinks. Semi-automatic, with a few modifications to make the reloads smoother and the gunshots quieter. His fingers twitch. He’d like to poke at it a little, see if he could improve it any.

The man notices where he’s staring and curses. He takes the gun and lowers it to the floor. Danny just continues to stare.

Silver is an ugly color, he thinks. He much prefers black.

Silver is the color of stainless steel, the color of lab and surgical equipment.

He doesn’t like it much.

The man reaches out a hand and grabs Danny’s shoulder, shaking him gently.

After a moment, he sighs, and hoists Danny up, carrying him effortlessly. He hands him to one of the men outside of the truck, hopping down himself a moment later.

They’re warm, Danny realizes.

He curls further into the new man’s arms, closing his eyes. It’s nice, he thinks, being held like this. He hasn’t been held with such care in a long, long time.

The man sets him down on a crate.

After a moment Danny opens his eyes again, watching as the many black-suited people take things out of the truck. He counts the inventions in his head as they do so, beginning to rock again.

Then, a new man enters the room, and everyone freezes.

He’s congratulating them, asking them about their escape, and then he spots Danny.

Danny would very much like to be invisible right about now.

“Where did you get him?” He asks, tapping his umbrella against the floor.

“He was in the truck,” the man who carried him says, “we don’t know why.”

The stout man looks at him closely.

“How did you get into a government weapon shipment? Did someone put you in there?”

Danny nods his head. He tries to speak, but his voice cracks painfully underneath his muzzle.

“You- someone get that thing off his face,” he says. Several of the other men scurry off, probably looking for something that can break the muzzle, “can you speak?”

Danny shrugs. He tries to talk again, but it seems that his voice doesn’t want to cooperate with him. The only sound he can make is a painful, broken wheeze.

“Hey,” the man says, resting a hand on Danny’s shoulder, “if it hurts to talk, stop trying, alright? We’re gonna get that muzzle and those cuffs off, and then we’ll figure out why you were in there. You know how to write?”

Danny nods.

“Good,” the man responds.

“You two, get something to write with,” he barks to a few of the other suited men. They, too, run off.

A few people come up, carrying a bolt cutter and a few other tools with them. They make quick work of the muzzle and handcuffs, the restraints falling to the floor with a clattering sound.

Danny looks down at his hands. They’re shaking. Slowly, slowly, he brings them up to his face. Thin fingers brush up against cracked, dry lips. He’s fascinated by the sensation.

Someone brought him a mirror, he realizes.

That can’t be right, though. The person looking back at him…isn’t him. That isn’t Danny.

That face is not his face.

Their cheeks are far too thin and sunken, their eyes dull and haunting. They’re far too old as well, they look like a young adult.

Still, they move when he moves. They stare at him with a look of fascinated horror that’s far too familiar.

He brings his hand up to his head, and they follow his movements. He trails his fingers over the stitches in his head, and they do the same.

Danny tries to speak, but is cut off by a painful cough.

One of the men brings up a pencil and notepad. Slowly, shakily, Danny writes down a question.

“What year is it?”

The man who had spoken to him earlier quirked his eyebrow up. He answers, and Danny freezes in place.

“What’s wrong?”

Danny looks down at his hands again. He looks into the mirror. The stranger staring back looks horrified. They look sad. They look…like him.

Danny lets out a mournful keening sound. He curls up into himself, covering his face with his arms. Distantly, he’s aware of someone rubbing circles into his back. He cries harder, his entire body shaking.

Three years.

It’s been three years since he was captured, three years of being cut open and sewn back together. Three years of burns and cuts and chemical damage and electrical shocks.

Three years of torture.

Danny sobs, hands gripping the thin fabric of his medical gown like a lifeline. Three years.

Danny’s being lifted up again. He wraps his arms around the person holding him and wails into their shoulder. Everything is quiet.

“I’ll deal with the kid,” the man holding him says, “the rest of you, finish unpacking the truck and dump it somewhere that the Bat won’t connect to me.”

The man brings Danny through the building, still rubbing his back comfortingly. He’s humming some song that Danny doesn’t recognize, occasionally pausing to bark orders at people.

Danny’s beginning to calm down now. He’s still shaking, but his breathing is beginning to even out.

It’s been a long time since he’s felt alive enough to cry.

He feels exhausted.

Danny tries to hold onto consciousness for as long as possible, but he’s so tired, and so sad, and he’s being held, and he’s warm, and…

Danny’s eyes flutter shut.

—

[boujiestpoet]

STARCROSSED (charles leclerc x oc)

SOCIAL MEDIA/NEWS CHAPTER 2

PREVIOUS CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER

MASTERLIST

Summary: Is it a pr suicide to post criptic messages

FACECLAIM: The extraordinary Tems

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. THE BEHAVIOUR OF THE CHARACTERS DOES NOT REFLECT THE REAL PERSONALITIES OF THE INDIVIDUAL UPON WHOM THEY ARE BASED. I AM MERELY BORROWING THEIR PHYSICAL LIKENESS AND THE PROFESSION THEY HAVE FOR THE SAKE OF THIS NARRATIVE

TW: Cringiness from the writer, grammatical errors (have mercy english is my semi firsr language)

renee_bennett

like by reneerapp, normani, cocojones and others

renee_bennett: I justcame back from Norway as promised, here's the first part of the photo dump

This users have deactivated the comments.........

charles_leclerc

like by ferrari and others

"Hey everyone, I wish I didn't have to write this, but I owe it to you, my amazing fans, to be honest about something personal. It’s with a heavy heart that I need to share some news. After a lot of thought, Leah and I have decided to end our relationship. This isn’t something I ever imagined saying, and it’s not easy.

Many of you know how much I cared for Leah. We shared so many memories, laughs, and incredible moments together. But sometimes, life takes unexpected turns, and I’ve learned some things that left me blindsided. I found out that Leah had been seeing someone else behind my back – a model named Ben Fields. To say I was shocked would be an understatement.

I never saw this coming, and it’s been one of the hardest things I’ve ever faced. As much as it hurts, I’m trying to move forward with dignity, staying focused on my career and the people who have always had my back. Trust is something I value deeply, and it’s something I���ll never compromise on.

I just want to say thank you to all of you who have shown us support over the years. I ask for privacy as I try to heal and process everything. I’ll always be grateful for your love, and I promise to keep giving my best on and off the track.

Stay kind. Stay true. And keep racing. 💔

This users have deactivated the comments.........

Author's Note: I'm back with another chapter I saw that in the real life chapter is not getting alot of views, that's fine, I'm having fun. So probably I will blend smau chapter with the irl chapter. If you guys have any advice, advice is welcomed.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for block evading to make sure someone is still alive?

So this whole situation gets rather complicated and quick, so please bear with me… TW for mention of suicide.

I (20m) previously made friends with a younger artist (about 17f by now if I’m remembering correctly; please keep an open mind here) after being unaware of their age and just following them for their art for a few years. One day, when I was 18 and I believe they were maybe 15-16, I reached out to let them know that I had been deeply influenced by their art and thought a lot of their work was very fun and humorous, and we kept in contact afterward mostly through public chat spaces, just joking around with each other and sharing art and memes and the like.

I want to stress that I had absolutely zero foul intentions here. They were a lonely kid without many friends, and I felt for them; I went through a lot of the same shitty situations (namely an abusive home) they were actively going through, and genuinely all I wanted was to offer them a safe space and a friend. I know that people sometimes get weird about friendships across age gaps, but I sincerely only wanted to help where I could. To this day I’m still not sure if I went about it the right way, but that’s a discussion for my therapist and not for here.

Fast forward some time. I discover that the other artist didn’t have a lot of friends for various reasons that were all linked mostly back to their immaturity, which I didn’t mind considering that they were. Y’know. Kids. But part of this immaturity was just… not understanding time restraints and boundaries, and that reflected back at me, despite multiple instances of me sitting them down and having talks with them about it as gently as I could. These talks were usually just about them messaging me constantly, literally non-stop, in the middle of the night, during school hours, etc etc etc. During this time, I became sick — very sick. I stand now chronically ill and permanently disabled. I was sick, scared, and exhausted, and yet I was expected by this friend to talk to them literally constantly, or else they would get upset. And it took a further toll on my ailing health, because no matter how many times I tried to tell them that I physically couldn’t talk to them as much as they were demanding I do, it never seemed to resonate.

I started reaching out less and less, because I just physically couldn’t handle talking to someone That Much for That Long… It wasn’t personal. It came to a point where our chats went completely silent, and even if I did reach out to try and talk, they wouldn’t reply or would only do so in very short, clipped responses. So I respected the obvious decision they had come to and just… kind of stopped trying to reach out. I was still a follower of theirs, though, so I would visit their profile every now and then just to make sure they were doing okay as a means to soothe my own worries.

Then they made a post alluding to offing themselves, went radio silent across all their platforms for a few days despite my best efforts to reach out, until I tried to check up on them again and found myself blocked everywhere. This made me panic; I genuinely didn’t know what to do. It took me a while to even remember that I could just… log in to a new account online rather than the app to check up on them, and after a few weeks of doing this, I was relieved to find that they’re still doing okay and back to posting semi-regularly. I don’t know the details, but at least they’re alive, y’know? That’s all that matters to me. Now, I just try to check every month or so to make sure they’re okay, and I’ll send them little anon messages trying to uplift them, or tell them to stay strong… I’m aware that it probably falls under stalker territory or something, but I genuinely only want the best for them, and as it stands, I don’t have a whole lot of other ideas for how to at least make sure that they’re okay…

Anyway… I’m making this post because there was another “AITA” post that got torn apart by people for someone evading a block for some reason or another, and I guess I was just compelled to see if this story would get a similar reaction… 🤷‍♂️

So yeah. AITA for block evading to make sure someone is still alive?

What are these acronyms?

[glitch-karma]

Hi there! If requests are still opened, i'd love to make one :o (although it's a bit lengthy, so if you don't want to do it I understand!!)

TW for s**cide mentions from here forward btw! (common with any dazai fic, lolz)

I'd love to request a dazai x reader (fem or gn will work!) where he asks reader to commit double suicide with him, and to literally everyone's shock, they agree! So the agency (mainly kunikida and atsushi) have to repeatedly sabatoge their attempts, and during that time, the two start to get to know eachother better and grow closer whilst they aren't plotting their own demises. Eventually dazai starts to fall for them, but one day reader tries to attempt on their own life solo due to being unable to handle the pains and pressures of life anymore. Ofc they were rescued just in time, but it made him realize that he wants to see reader safe and happy, and that he had finally found his reason to live through his love for them. Extra points if he confesses his love at some point and reader accepts!!

Sorry if this was rant-y, i'm a huge sucker for angst to comfort :P either way tho, i hope you have a lovely rest of your day/night!

THIS RIGHT HERE IS A BEAUTIFUL STORY OH MY!!!!

-F!Y/n

-Y/n is a new worker at the Cafe under the ADA

-MAJOR SUICIDE WARNING!! (Including but not limited to: Blood, pills, self-harm, etc..) I am a sucker for graphic detail so you have been warned

-Also warning for puke

-Reader is kinda based off of Mafuyu from Project Sekai cause I said so (Btw pjsk simps gonna open up reqs for them when they become open again‼️)

-also reader has dull eyes cause anime logic

I did probably a concerning amount of research on suicide, (Plus looked for so long for Dazai's stupid lil book) for this so I hope you enjoy!

_____

Break time at the Armed detective agency usually means having some coffee at their favorite cafe. As the group sat down Dazai was glancing around when his eyes caught the sight of the new waitress waiting next to a barista Dazai frequently flirted with. The girl had semi-messy h/c colored hair, her eyes a dull e/c. Her features framed her face so beautifully. Dazai's mouth curled into a smirk as he stared at her. Kunikida caught wind and immediately irked. "Dazai.."

As the waitress approached the table, Dazai read the name stage reading "Y/n". He smiled as she stopped at their table. Before she could get a word out Dazai grabbed her hand in his. "Such soft hands.. And beautiful eyes as well. Would you, Belladona, do me the honors of accompanying me to a double suicide?"

WHACK

Dazai was now lying on the floor, as Kunikida brushed himself off. "I'm so sorry Ma'am, he's always like this-" Atsushi apologized as Y/n leaned down to the man on the floor. "I'd gladly join a double suicide." She smiled down at him.

. . .

"WHAT!?!"

"Really!?!" Dazai yelled as he stood up, grabbing Y/n's hand again. Y/n chuckled as she nodded at him. "I get off at 6. You work in this building correct? I'll meet you on the roof." "Yes yes, that sounds wonderful~!"

Everyone at the table stared shell-shocked as Y/n takes their order normally like nothing just happened. As dazai kicked his legs in his own little world, Kunikida Atsushi and Junichiro all stared at each other in concern. Kunikida pulled them behind a menu quickly.

"As much as I'd love to let that dimwitt meet his end, we need him and that girl to stay alive. It isn't right letting a young lady with so much life in her die with that blasted Dazai." Kunikida sighed. Atsushi and Junichiro nodded in sync.

"Once Dazai leaves to meet her we should follow them," Atsushi whispered. Junichiro hummed in agreement. "It's decided then." Junichiro finished. The three quickly separated from the menu as Y/n walked over and set down their drinks. As she walked away dazai starstruck-ingly called out; "See you tonight Madameeee~". Y/n peeked over her shoulder, smiling at him. Dazai felt his heart flutter a bit at those beautifully dull eyes.. They seemed to draw him in for more.

...

As Dazai whipped open the doors to the building roof, he caught sight of the lady ready to accompany him with his final dance. Her hair was gently blowing in the warm Yokohama breeze as she stared off into the sky. What was she looking at? Dazai didn't know. But her eyes looked so sickeningly dull in that moment. But still, so beautiful..

"I'm pleasantly surprised to see you here! I was concerned you agreed simply to make me leave you alone." The dark-eyed man said, leaning next to her. "I'd never joke about suicide. Such a beautiful ending to a sick existence." Y/n spoke lowly. In the cafe, she had a sort of customer voice, but there was no trace of it here. Dazai smirked a bit at this.

"I should let you know now, I'm not interested in pain. I don't know exactly what you're into though.." Dazai teased her. "Pain is not something I'm looking for either. Just a quick ending."

Dazai chuckled, quickly whipping out his little red book. "Suffocation, Hanging, Poisoning, Shooting, Jumping," He read off as Y/n stared at him. Only blinking in response. "All the ideas you could storm up are right here in this very book."

"Ah! What a glorious book,, if I wasn't planning on dying I'd buy a copy.." Y/n smiled lightly. "But.." she continued, grabbing the book and shutting it quickly. "I'd like to try jumping first."

With a quick grab of Dazai's shirt, the two were suddenly falling off the roof of the building. Y/n shut her eyes, waiting for the end of it all.

Poof.

The two landed on a bunch of garbage bags stacked up on each other. Y/n quickly sat up in disappointment as Dazai lay on the ground is fear and confusion. "Dang."

Dazai suddenly bursted into laughter. Y/n hummed, turning to him. "What's so funny?" Dazai wiped a tear from his eye as he sat up too. "You're the most forward suicidal girl I've ever met, my dear Y/n." He chuckled. Y/n blushed lightly before standing up.

"No matter.. We'll try again. Tomorrow. You can choose the method." She smiled at him. Dazai chuckled as he stood, lending her a hand up as he did so. "It's a date." He joked.

. .

"GAHHHH I THOUGHT WE WEREN'T GONNA MAKE IT." "Oh be quiet Atsushi, my Ideals were almost perfect."

There were the secret team, two sweaty messes, and one writing vigorously in his notebook. The three had watched Dazai enter the roof before running down to prepare in case they jumped, finishing just before they did.

"This might be a long couple of days.." Junichiro said quietly.

...

Day 2

"Oiiiii! Y/n dear!" Dazai yelled as he entered the roof. "Ah, hello Dazai." the girl lightly smiled. "What will we be doing today?"

Time after time,

Day 3

"Oh, Y/n you're here late! Well? Shall we begin?"

Attempt after attempt,

Week 3

"Dazai! Hurry we'll miss the train!" "Yes yes, my dear!"

The two met almost every day.

Month 2

The two had been testing the faith of this world as they attempted suicide again and again. Slowly, Dazai started to see something he hadn't before. Something fluttered in his chest..

The way she gets so distracted, the way she turned to yell at him when he took a joke too far, the way her nose scrunched up in such a way, those eyes.. Those beautifully dull eyes.

What was this feeling in Dazai's chest?

As Dazai thought intensely at his desk the others in the office grew worried. "What's up with Dazai today?" Atsushi mumbled. "I'm not sure.. I've never seen him think this much before."

"It's so clear what his problem is." Ranpo mumbled as he sucked on a loli. Dazai's head shot up immediately. "You know what this feeling is in my chest!? Please, explain Ranpo! Have I been poisoned? Is it fatal? Will I finally die? I can't die without Y/n."

Ranpo sighed as he bit off the lollipop. "No nothing of the sort, you're simply in love with that cafe waitress."

...

"Did he really just say that in front of us all!?"

Everyone at the agency thought in shock. Dazai's eyes were wide as he stared at Ranpo. His cheeks were flushed as he pondered the idea. The great Dazai? In love?

"This feeling in my chest.." He thought in shock. "That's a heart by the way," Ranpo smirked at the flustered Dazai. Dazai looked down for a moment, before springing up. He slammed his fist down loudly."This is..."

"Truly wonderful!!"

Dazai yelled as he pranced around the office. The majority of the group stared in dismay as he did so. "Ah, how perfect! I'm in love with the person I plan to meet my end with! We can plan a lovelier more passionate suicide now! How beautiful!"

"I should go confess right away! We can begin planning for our end together!" Dazai screamed with giddy as he threw his jacket on quickly. Ranpo's eyes scrunched together lightly as he thought. "You should go quickly, Dazai." He said as Dazai flung open the door.

"Will do!" Dazai yelled, running down the stairs to the cafe. As he opened the doors, he inhaled the lovely aroma of coffee before calling out. "Y/n my dear! I need to tell you something import-"

To Dazai's dismay, Y/n was nowhere to be seen in the cafe. He blinked a few times before walking towards one of the other workers. "Is Y/n here?" He asked with a hand covering his face.

"Ah, I'm sorry Dazai she didn't come in for her shift this morning.." The barista explained. Dazai's head popped up in surprise. "Uh, really?"

"Mhm, She didn't call in either. It's unlike her. She usually at least gives a call if she's gonna be late." The girl explained. Dazai's eyes furrowed as he thought.

"You should go quickly, Dazai."

Dazai's eyes shot open as he stared at the ground for a moment. "No.."

"Uh, Dazai?" The barista asked him. Dazai turned quickly, running out of the cafe in a hurry. His breath grew ragged as he ran quickly. He stopped in front of a familiar apartment complex to breathe. He then quickly ran in, ignoring the calls from a front desk worker. He sprinted and sprinted as he burst into Y/n's bedroom. "Y/n!" He screamed.

His eyes quickly scanned the room, finding it neatly tidied instead of the mess it was when he first visited her here. He then noticed the bathroom door shut tightly, while steam lightly flowed out of it. He ran to the door, trying the handle only to find it locked.

"Y/n!" He yelled, banging on the door. No answer. Dazai backed up quickly, before slamming his shoulder into the door, causing it to fly off its hinges. He looked up from the floor, seeing the sight he wanted to stop.

(Last major TW before we continue.)

Y/n laid in the bathtub fully clothed. The water from the faucet flowed continually, causing the room to fill with steam. A bottle of some unmarked pills laid on the bathroom floor, followed by a knife of which she'd used to make her wrist bleed. The fresh red liquid had been used to fill a small vile next to her.

Dazai quickly stood up, stopping the water before reaching his hands into the hot water. He wrapped his arms around Y/n's figure, lifting her up into his arms before placing her on the floor gently. He quickly ran to the medicine cabinet, grabbing a cotton swab and a roll of bandages.

He ran back to her fast, checking her pulse before sticking the cotton swab deep into her throat repeatedly until a steady stream of fresh puke left her lips. He pulled her into his arms as she came to, putting pressure on her wrist. Y/n's head felt fuzzy as she looked up at him. "Dazai.."

"Ah, you're conscious. Please stay awake, and don't move too much." Dazai whispered lowly. Y/n's head fog cleared as she came to. Realizing she'd been saved.

"No.." She mumbled as hot tears began to form. She suddenly became enraged. "Why you of all people.." "Y/n?"

"I thought you understood.. I just want to disappear from this world. Don't you get it?"

"I want to save you. I want to live with you, even if it's only for a bit before we depart together. There's still so much I don't know about you. Y/n, I-"

"Stop it!!" Y/n screamed, kicking Dazai away. "Don't you dare say it! What can you do? You may save me for a bit, you may make me feel happy for a short while, but then what!? One day it won't work anymore! And I'll want to die again!"

She was shouting.

"That's why this is all too much! Just let me have a clean death alone! You're so selfish for even coming here and spouting that bull shit!"

Without even realizing it, Y/n was shouting.

"I'm tired..! I'm so tired of thinking there's hope! Tired of waiting, finding something close, then watching it disappear! I'll never find what I'm looking for! I'll... I'll never truly be saved! Don't you see Dazai!?"

Dazai's eyes stayed still as he watched the girl scream.

"I'm so tired.. So tired.! Don't let me despair anymore.. Just let me rot."

The silence in the room was sickening. No one dared move.

Until Dazai broke the silence by cackling. Y/n sniffled confused as she stared at him. "I just keep seeing new sides of you Y/n.. You really are sickeningly complicated." He smirked at her as he inched closer.

Dazai's lips suddenly slammed into Y/n's. The girl's eyes opened wide as she stared at him. After a few seconds, dazai pulled away, a small string of saliva trailing behind. He licked his lips lightly before speaking:

"You called me selfish for saving you.." Dazai spoke before leaning close to Y/n's ear. "But I'm an incredibly greedy man my dear.."

Y/n's face flushed more as Dazai grabbed her wrist, wrapping her wound up tightly. "Even if it takes me saving you a thousand times, I'll do it all over again. So we can have the perfect suicide together."

Y/n breathes in shakily as Dazai kisses her hand gently.

"So, let's try this again. Y/n, my dear. I'm in love with you. Will you join me, in living and dying in this life?"

Dazai's words brought more tears into Y/n's eyes as she nodded lightly.

"Yes."

-Fin-

[sundewhasaudhd]

I'd love to hear your dsmp headcanons when you have the time!

YES

I have multiple notes on my Notes app for this moment

TW: mentions of suicide, mentions of starving oneself, mentions of self harm

Tommy: aroace, he/him, 17, 6’1”, AuDHD, anxiety, depression, PTSD, prosthetic leg. No voice claim yet. Very skinny and scrawny, like he would struggle to lift a gallon of milk. But also insanely fast. Demi god (through Kristen).

Tubbo: queer, trans ftm, he/bee, 18, 5’7”, AuDHD, dyslexia, PTSD, half blind. Voice claim: David from Hilda. Pretty buff, I’ve also been seeing I good amount of chubby c!Tubbo designs, so I might do that as well. Goat hybrid.

Ranboo: pan, enby, they/them+neos, 18, 8’5”, AuDHD, anxiety, depression, body dysphoria. Voice claim: Freckle from Lackadaisy. The most twink to ever twink, y’know, on account of being half enderman. Half enderman, half love god.

Wilbur: bi, he/him, 23, 6’6”, AuDHD, anxiety, depression, PTSD. Voice claim: Red Guy from DHMIS. Another twink. Doesn’t help that he barely eats most days (most of the time it’s just because of the ADHD, but he has tried to starve himself as an [unsuccessful] suicide attempt). Demi god (through Kristen).

Techno: aroace, he/him, 23, 6’3”, AuDHD, social anxiety, depression. Voice claim: Sun Wukong from LMK. Buff. That’s all I have to say. Piglin.

Phil: bi, polyamorous, he/him, immortal, 5’11”, damaged wings. Voice claim: Bandit from Bluey. Again, same as c!Techno. Buff. Human that was gifted immortality, pointy ears, crow wings, and stick antler thingys.

Jack: bi-curious, probably not cis, he/him, 19, 5’9”, AuDHD, probably physically disabled as well, I need to think about my c!Jack design some more. Voice claim: Gyro from DuckTales 2016. Cyborg.

Niki: bi, demigirl, she/they, 29, 5’6”, AuDHD, anxiety. Voice claim: Bubblegum from Adventure Time. Fat and buff. Half demon, half human.

Fundy: gay, trans ftm, he/him, 16, 6’3”, AuDHD, anxiety, dyslexia. Voice claim: Steven from Steven Universe Future. Half fox hybrid, half siren.

Eret: bi, polyamorous, genderfluid, any pronouns, immortal, 6’3”, AuDHD, dyslexia dyspraxia, depression. Voice claim: Aaravos from Dragon Prince. Pretty curvy. Semi god (child of a demi god, that demi god being Herobrine).

Foolish: pan, agender, he/they+neos, immortal, 7’8”. Voice claim: Raine from The Owl House. Buff. Demi god.

Charlie: aroace, agender, he/it, immortal, 5’9” AuDHD. No voice claim yet. CHONKY :D. Plus sized c!Charlie my beloved. Walking piece of goo Normal human.

Quackity: gay, ambiamorous, trans ftm, he/him, 21, 5’8”, depression, PTSD, half blind. Voice claim: Whizzer from Falsettos 2016. Duck hybrid.

Purpled: ace, polysexual, enby, they/he/star, 18, 5’8”. Voice claim: Louie from DuckTales 2016. Alien.

Punz: bi, agender, he/they, 25, 6’0”, ADHD. Voice claim: Zane from Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts. Gold hybrid.

Ponk: gay, transfem, genderfluid, any pronouns, she/he preference, 34, 5’7”, ADHD, prosthetic arm. Voice claim: Mikey from ROTTMNT. Half lemon fairy, half human.

Sam: omni, male preference, bigender, he/they, 35, 7’4”. Voice claim: Raph from ROTTMNT. Creeper hybrid.

Dream: unlabeled, he/they+neos, 23, 6’2”, ADHD. Voice claim: Macaque from LMK. “Powerless” god.

George: gay, transmasc, any pronouns, they/he preference, 24, 5’8”, autism. Voice claim: Philip from The Owl House. Half mushroom fairy, half human.

Sapnap: pan, ambiamorous, he/him, 21, 5’10”. Voice claim: Finn from Adventure Time. Pretty buff. Half demon, half human.

Karl: ace, polysexual, ambiamorous, he/swirl/pop, 21, 5’11”, AuDHD. Voice claim: Bow from She-Ra and the Princesses of Power reboot. Time noodle (idk wtf to call it).

Bad: bi, demisexual and romantic, he/they/it, 36, 9’6”. Voice claim: Moxxie from Helluva Boss. Demon.

Skeppy: gay, transmasc, demiboy, he/it, 34, 5’7”. Voice claim: Percy from Lightning Thief the Musical. Diamond hybrid.

Puffy: bi, transfem, any pronouns, she/her preference, 31, 6’9”, OCD, prosthetic leg. Voice claim: Annapantsu. Goat hybrid.

Hannah: lesbian, trans mtf, she/her, 22, 5’4”, damaged wings. Voice claim: Katara from ATLA. Rose fairy.

Aimsey: lesbian, enby, any pronouns, 20, 4’11”, AuDHD, uses a walking stick. Voice claim: Hilda from Hilda. Bunny hybrid.

Boomer: bi, trigender, he/they/she, 23, 5’9”, ADHD. Voice claim: Ed from The Owl House. Frog hybrid.

Connor: ace, gay, he/zap/blast, 22, 5’7”, autism. Voice claim: Sea Hawk from She-Ra and the Princesses of Power reboot. Time noodle (still don’t know what to call it).

Schlatt: gay, he/him, 36, 6’3”. Voice claim: Haymitch from The Hunger Games. Goat hybrid.

Michaelmcchill: bi, he/him, 33, 6’2”, autism. Voice claim: Jake from Adventure Time. Panther hybrid.

Eryn: bi, demiboy, he/they/sharp/it, 16, 5’10”, ADHD. Voice claim: Leo from ROTTMNT. Half demon, half human.

CPK: pan, genderfluid, he/they/she/it/swish, immortal, 6’4”. Voice claim: Terry from Dragon Prince. Kitsune.

Callahan: gay, he/him, immortal, 5’7”, mute. Voice claim: no one. He’s mute. Demi god.

Alyssa: lesbian, she/it, 24, 5’5”. Voice claim: Sasha from Amphibia. Some sort of hybrid, I haven’t decided yet.

Tina: bi, trans mtf, she/her, 23, 5’3”. Voice claim: Candy from Gravity Falls. Half demon, half human.

Antfrost: gay, he/him, 29, 5’7”. Voice claim: Adrien from Miraculous Ladybug. Cat hybrid.

Hbomb: gay, he/she, 17, 5’8”. Voice claim: Launchpad from DuckTales 2016. Cat hybrid.

Vikk: bi, he/him, 38, 5’8”. Voice claim: Mr. Boonchuy from Amphibia. Parrot hybrid.

Lazar: probably queer in some way, he/him, 63, 5’10”. Voice claim: Fergus McDuck from DuckTales 2016. Gingerbread man.

Miscellaneous headcanons:

Cuddling with Quackity helps Wilbur sleep.

Whenever Tommy or Wilbur think about death, they play with the white streak in their hair 

When Dream was little, he used to draw his smile (TM) on stuff to “claim it”. Like, toys and shit like that.

The Syndicate gave each other hair styling tips.

The reason Quackity always wears a beanie is to cover his ears. For trauma reasons.

Tommy’s cardigan is made of Friend’s wool.

Sometimes Fundy, Foolish, and Sam spend the night at Las Nevadas, so they all have their own rooms there.

When Purpled winks, he winks both eyes on one side.

Karl has a bunch of those goofy ahh socks with like, fruit on them. You know want I’m talking about.

Dream’s birth name is Clay but he changed once more people started arriving in the SMP.

Techno plays violin and is teaching Ranboo.

Dream’s walking speed is the same as the speed walking of everyone else.

Bee duo wears their rings on their horns because Tubbo’s ring finger is busted and they wanted to match.

Fundy calls Eret dad, but not Wilbur. (Rip)

Ranboo’s a soprano.

Aimsey’s hair turns white in the winter.

Burger duo have to keep an eye on each other when they use knifes at the van. For… reasons.

Peer pressure duo practice controlled breathing together.

Techno’s bruh is a vocal stim.

Little Fundy used to jokingly bow at Eret.

Techno has reading glasses.

Techno’s hair gets really tangly if he doesn’t brush it after a day.

Callahan uses ASL to communicate and Alyssa’s his translator.

All of the fandom songs are written by the characters.

Ghostbur put stickers on his guitar.

Tubbo played softball/baseball growing up.

When Dream was in prison, he tallied the days he was there in the shape of a smile.

Wilbur sings and plays guitar to help Tommy fall asleep.

Charlie cries “human bits”.

Bad became really against swearing after he adopted Sapnap.

Wilbur taught Quackity how to play guitar.

Sam just saw George and Quackity all alone on the street and just adopted them.

Dream wears contacts.

Purpled’s UFO crashed on Earth when he was a little, so they don’t really remember anything about his home planet .

Tommy watches Bluey.

Tommy mainly listens to audiobooks.

Aimsey draws on their arm.

Kristen gave Phil immortality so they could always be together, but that caused him to only have one live.

Puffy and Schlatt are half siblings.

Quackity has a Medusa tattoo .

Before Quackity gave everyone in Las Nevadas rooms, Purpled slept in the van with Wilbur.

Boomer watches MHA.

Dream got a spider web tattoo on his elbow after prison break.

Hannah watches Miraculous.

Jack made Tommy and Wilbur matching chats.

It doesn’t matter how much sleep he actually got, Wilbur looks tired no matter what.

Fundy listens to the High School Musical soundtrack.

Karl was/is in the WoF and Warrior Cats fandoms.

Tommy sings Welcome Home and My L’Manburg to himself to help him fell asleep and/or destress.

Niki taught Tommy how to sew after Exile.

Every time Jack loses a life, he becomes more cyborg.

Phil started growing his hair out after Techno died.

Wilbur is that one annoying ass person that sings happy birthday well (everyone knows you’re not supposed to sing happy birthday well).

Wilbur masked for most of his time on the SMP (especially during the elections and Pogtopia) and only really unmasked after the people he was really close with.

Dream has retractable fingernail claws because of his limited shapeshifting abilities.

Sally and Milo are besties.

That’s it. I hope you like em :3

[hbyrde36]

Caught in the Undertow

Chapter Five

WC: 4574 | R: Explicit | TW: Suicidal ideation/depression | Ch 5/10 | AO3

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 <-

There may actually be something to this whole talking about it thing, Eddie thought as he leaned against the wood siding of Steve’s house, pulling smoke into his lungs from the first cigarette he’d had in days as he gazed out over the covered pool and at the trees beyond.

He felt… lighter somehow. 

Not like all the bad stuff inside him was gone exactly, but more like he wasn’t carrying it alone anymore. 

He’d played with fire earlier though, coming out to Steve like that. A bit of self destructive tendencies come back to rear their ugly head for a moment, he supposed. Or maybe, once you’ve opened yourself up to someone, told them you think about dying on a semi-regular basis, telling them you like to suck cock wasn’t that big a deal.

And Steve had been… kind, accepting.

Perfect. 

Eddie flicked a bit of ash off the end of his cigarette as the glass door to his left slid open, and Steve stepped out onto the patio. He joined Eddie wordlessly, taking up a post right next to him, propped up against the house, close enough to bump their shoulders together. 

Eddie’s stomach did a little flip at the touch, the skin under his sleeve growing hot.

The thing about finally snapping out of it, about feeling better, was that now he could feel everything again. Those flutters he’d had all through that week in March whenever Steve’s eyes met his, or his hands reached out to offer a reassuring touch. Whenever Eddie swayed into his space and Steve didn’t move away.  

Yeah.

Those butterflies had reawakened the moment Steve burst into his room all pent up and pissed off this morning, and taken flight with a vengeance when Steve had let him take care of him, let Eddie cradle him in his lap while he worked through the worst of his migraine.

Ah well. 

It wouldn't be his first crush on an unattainable straight guy, and it probably wouldn’t be his last. He’d get over it. He wouldn’t subject anyone to a… relationship with someone like him anyway, least of all Steve. 

Eddie slipped the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, half-heartedly holding it out to the other boy in offering, surprised when Steve dipped his head in thanks and took it.

“Didn’t know you smoked,” Eddie said, the white smoke coming off the end of his own still burning cigarette curling around them as it bobbed between his lips.

Steve shrugged, tapping one out of the pack with a practiced hand. “I don’t much anymore.”

Passing over his lighter, Eddie raised a questioning brow.

“Robin hates it, but I still sneak one every once in a while when she’s not around.” Steve flicked the little wheel half a dozen times but the lighter refused to catch.

Eddie patted his jacket pockets, sure that he had another stashed somewhere, but froze as Steve leaned in close.

“Do you mind if I…?” Steve said softly around the unlit cigarette still hanging from his mouth, reaching out to steady himself with a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. 

Eddie stopped breathing. 

They stared into each other’s eyes, faces only inches apart as Steve touched the tip of his own smoke to the still burning cherry on the end of Eddie’s. The flare of light when Steve inhaled to make it catch illuminated his face like candlelight, making his captivating hazel eyes even prettier somehow. 

It was Eddie who moved back first. Who broke the stare and the moment, his heart thumping so loudly against the walls of his chest that if he didn’t Steve might hear, and know it was beating for him. 

He leaned back against the side of the house and resumed staring out into the darkening sky as dusk turned to night, and tried to regain his composure. 

Steve cleared his throat, mirroring Eddie’s position in turn, his attention back on their shared view. 

“Must be nice out here in the summer. I bet the gremlins bug you to use the pool all the time,” Eddie said after a while. 

“They’ve asked, but, uh...” Steve reached up to rub at the back of his neck. “I haven’t opened it since ‘83.”

It took Eddie a second to remember why that year held such significance. When he did he still couldn’t fathom the connection between Steve’s pool and Will’s disappearance into the Upside Down, but surely it wasn’t good. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to like,” Eddie waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the pool, waffling as he pinched the last little stub of his cigarette between his fingers to snuff it out. “I didn’t know.”

“No, man. It’s—it’s okay. I hadn’t thought about it, but there's probably so much you don’t know still.”

“Only the basics. There wasn’t time for Dustin to really fill me in before, and it’s not like I’ve given him much of a chance since.”

Steve hummed in acknowledgment, but was quiet for long enough that Eddie wasn’t sure if he was done talking for the night, or if Steve was simply working up to it. Either way he wouldn’t push, letting a companionable silence settle between them.

“Barb Holland.”

The two words rang out like a bell in the quiet air, deep and affecting. Steve paused to take a long drag from his cigarette, blowing out a thick plume of smoke with his head tossed back.  “She was Nancy’s best friend. They were here one night, after Will… I think a day or two after he went missing? I was—” He squatted down to crush his own cigarette out on the concrete, rubbing at his face as he straightened back up. “God I was so far up my own ass, I don't even know. And of course I was more worried about hooking up with Nancy than what might be out here stalking that poor girl. Demogorgon got her. I didn’t find out till later, but she was pulled through a gate in the pool, and killed on the other side.”

“Shit, Steve.”

Steve gave a little shrug as if to say, it is what it is. “I failed her and Nancy that day, and I've been… trying to make up for it ever since.”

“You were just a kid. You couldn’t have known what was coming for her.”

“I guess not, but that doesn’t make me feel any less haunted by it.”

Eddie shivered, the short hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He felt the same way about Chrissy, sure that it would be much worse if he’d had to go back and live in the same trailer where she died.

“Why did you stay here?”

“I could have left after graduation. Not for college, I never even sent in my application, but my dad took early retirement, and my parents moved to their summer home full time. They wanted me to go with them, but—” 

Steve bowed his head, shaking it. “Everyone was convinced it was over. El closed this gate at the lab, and they got whatever was infecting Will out of him, but I—I couldn’t shake the feeling that it might come back, and I’d be miles away and Dustin would for sure get right in the middle of it and get himself hurt or worse.”

“And you were right.”

“Unfortunately,” Steve breathed.

Eddie ached for him all over again, for the weight of the world he seemed determined to carry.

“I hate this house,” Steve went on. “This whole town really. I’d leave it in a heartbeat if I could.”

“Well it really is over this time, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think it finally is.” 

The bike beneath Eddie creaked as he pedaled, going as fast as he could, his thighs and calves screaming that they weren’t made for this, but he had to get the bats away. Every time he looked back the advancing flock were closer and closer. He was so tired, and absolutely fucking terrified, but none of that mattered now.  He had to keep everyone else safe. The trailer was lost from sight when the bats finally caught up, knocking him from the bike, and making him eat shit. He could only hope he’d lured them far enough.  Eddie picked himself up, feeling a bit like he was in a horror movie as he turned slowly, wielding his spear and shield to face the hoard, but the sight that greeted him was far worse than any number of flying monsters. Because it was Dustin, doing his best to run with a pronounced limp.   It didn’t make any sense. How did he even make it out here so fast? Little shit was going to get himself killed. “What are you doing, Henderson?!” Eddie hissed, swinging his shield to knock away one of the demobats as it tried to dive bomb them. “Never split the party!” Dustin shouted, positioning himself behind Eddie so they were back to back, slowly rotating with the swirling cloud of beasts that flew around them.   Eddie didn’t point out the obvious—that they already had split the party, several times in fact, before this moment and Dustin hadn’t had a problem with that. And now he was gonna… Eddie swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. It was hopeless, but he’d do whatever he could to keep that from happening.   They fought tooth and nail, watching each other's backs as they speared, kicked, punched, and dodged, but there were simply too many of the vicious creatures.  Then Dustin’s spear broke. Eddie spun suddenly, curling his body around the younger boy’s, holding his shield up behind Dustin to try and cover him completely. He held strong through the force of the impacts as one-by-one bats slammed into his back… until one of their tails wrapped itself around Eddie’s neck from behind, ripping him away, and dragging him to the ground where a number of its brethren descended on him at once. Through the searing pain of being eaten alive, Eddie still fought, still tried to shake the creatures off and get to Dustin, but his arms were pinned to his sides.  Over the cacophony of screeches and squawks Eddie heard Dustin scream—wordless, high pitched, blood curdling, before something hit the ground hard with a heavy thump at his side. And the screaming stopped. Eddie shouted Dustin’s name over and over, but heard nothing in return. He turned to look as soon as he could, finally able to as the bat that had been feeding on his cheek moved away to search out the meatier flesh of his chest, and wished he hadn’t. The boy’s face was a bloody mask, his unblinking eyes—wide and lifeless. His mouth didn’t move, could not move any longer, but still a voice began calling Eddie’s name. It didn’t sound like Dustin either, it sounded like… “Eddie? Eddie? Can you hear me?”  Steve.

Eddie woke with a gasp to someone gently shaking him as they hovered. To Steve looking down at him, his mouth pinched with worry.

One of Steve’s hands left Eddie’s shoulder to cup his cheek. “It was just a nightmare. You’re okay, I’ve got you. Dustin is fine, everyone is fine.” He spoke so softly, as though he were addressing a frightened wild animal, which in fairness wasn’t too far off. 

Eddie could do nothing but stare at first, still dazed and a little breathless from the absolute nightmare his dream had been, and maybe a little more so for the way Steve was touching him, warm and gentle, but eventually he managed to nod.

Steve gave him a small, sad smile and started to pull away. And before he could stop it, before he could consider what a terrible idea it was, Eddie reached out, gripping tightly onto the hem of Steve’s t-shirt. 

“Stay?” Eddie choked out. He felt like a pathetic baby even asking, but the image of Dustin laying bloody and broken was too fresh, and though it had only been a dream, the very real tears he’d cried in his sleep were still drying on his face, his fresh scars throbbing with the renewed memory of so many tails and teeth. “Just for a little while… please?” 

Steve bit his lip, something unreadable flickering across his face for a second, or maybe it was a trick of the shadows, as he whispered, “scoot over.” 

Forcing himself to let go, Eddie shuffled backwards on his side, raising the covers while Steve slid under, facing him. 

Eddie itched to bury himself in Steve's neck, his chest—to be wrapped up in the safety of his arms, but he was acutely aware of the fact that he'd come out to Steve only a handful of hours ago. So he kept a polite distance, still grateful for the simple comfort of not being alone.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Steve asked, snuggling down into the spare pillow.

“Not really. It was—” Eddie exhaled deeply. Awful? Terrible? Horrifying? None of the words that came to mind were enough. 

Somehow Steve's hand found his under the covers, resting between their bodies, their fingers lacing together automatically. 

“I know.”

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on the feel of Steve’s hand in his instead of the pain of what he’d seen. “How do you deal with it?” 

“I wish I had better advice to offer but I don't think there's much you can do but just get through it.”

“Lovely.” Eddie grumbled, but knew he was lucky the nightmares hadn’t found him till now. He’d barely been sleeping as it was, and when he did he was usually in a blackout, before he came to Steve’s at least. Now he couldn't help wondering if he was in for the same thing he’d heard Steve go through night after night.  

Steve let out a breathy laugh, rubbing his thumb along the back of Eddie’s hand. “Sorry. You just gotta try and go back to sleep when you can, and on the nights when you can’t, find ways to distract yourself.”

Eddie could think of some things he’d like to do to distract himself right now. A few sure fire ways to shut his brain off, and all of it far more pleasurable than laying here and trying to go fall asleep again, but that was too dangerous a line of thought to follow.

It wasn’t long before Steve’s eyes fell shut, his body relaxing, and his breath evening out. Surprisingly, Eddie found himself following close behind, his own eyelids growing heavy as he watched the wrinkles in Steve’s forehead smooth out, their hands still clasped firmly together when he finally drifted off.

Over the next week, he and Steve developed a loose routine of sorts. 

They made breakfast together in the mornings, which really only consisted of Eddie making toast, with butter this time—elevated cuisine—and Steve brewing a pot of coffee on his overly complicated machine that Eddie refused to even touch, before separating for the day. 

As he continued to work on reclaiming himself, Eddie still spent a lot of time hiding away in his borrowed room with his book and his music, and a notepad Steve dug up for him from the bottom of a kitchen drawer. 

He started writing again. 

Struck with inspiration for a new campaign he began taking copious notes, smiling at the idea that he might actually be able to run a game again one day soon. Something that would go a long way towards making up for lost time with so many of the friends he’d been neglecting lately.

When bits of lyric popped into his head he wrote those down too, humming simple tunes he hoped he’d remember later when he actually had a guitar handy to strum them on, his fingers itching to play for the first time since the Upside Down. And tried very hard not to think about the fact that they all sounded a little more like love songs than anything he typically played with the boys in Corroded Coffin. 

Eddie didn’t really know what Steve did with his days, besides talking to Robin on the phone, occasionally checking on him, and cleaning compulsively from the sounds of it, as though someone might show up at any time and expect a spotless house. 

Sometimes he got in his head about it, wondering if Steve was annoyed at being stuck here babysitting. If he was bored. If he’d get tired of waiting for Eddie to be normal and resent him for holding him back. But when Eddie came downstairs each day around five or six to call his uncle, Steve lit up, looking so genuinely happy to see him that Eddie was forced to remember and believe that Steve wanted him here, wanted to help him heal and find some kind of peace. 

By some miracle, it even seemed to be working.

While Steve put their dinner together Eddie would sit on the kitchen floor, curling the cord around his finger as he spoke to Wayne on the phone, the two of them catching up before the older man went to work for the night. There were other phones in the house he could have used, even ones that offered a comfy seat and more privacy, but none that had as nice a view of Steve’s luscious backside.

Honestly it was one of Eddie’s favorite parts of the day.

After dinner though, that was when they actually spent time together, and Eddie discovered what a dork Steve truly was, and how much he liked being around him.

They’d sit and talk while watching movies mostly, or on one memorable night a baseball game, of all things, an activity Eddie never thought he could find enjoyment in, and if Wayne ever found out he’d done so voluntarily, he’d never live it down. While Eddie still didn’t exactly see the appeal of sports in general, he could appreciate the fit of their uniforms, and seeing Steve smile so much and slap his thigh whenever something good happened wasn’t half bad either. No matter what they were doing Steve's presence never failed to leave him feeling warm, like sitting in the sun, and it was impossible not to bask in it a little.

All in all, It was easy enough for Eddie to be normal about his unfortunate crush during the day, but—

Okay, maybe he wasn’t being super normal about it, but he was at least managing to hide the worst of it from Steve, he was pretty sure anyway, but at night things were… a little more difficult. 

Night after night like clockwork Eddie woke in near hysterics.

Sometimes it was him and Chrissy standing in the trailer, where he’d try in vain to wake her, and have no choice but to stand by and witness her body breaking to pieces right in front of him all over again. 

Or it was Steve, getting strangled to death by demobats after being pulled into the depths of Lover’s Lake. He, Robin, and Nancy following behind far too late to save him. 

But more often than not it was his own gruesome near death experience he was made to relive, alone or with Dustin dying by his side. Those were always the worst. 

And every night, without fail, Steve was there when Eddie lurched awake, crying and gasping. There to soothe away the pain and heartache, touching Eddie’s face and hair with gentle hands, uttering soft sweet words, and each time, like the first time, Eddie asked him to stay, and Steve would simply say, “scoot over.”

The nightmares never came back once Steve was with him.

And in the morning, no matter how tangled together they were when they woke, they separated without a word and went about their days as normal. 

And it was fine. 

It wasn’t complete fucking torture or anything. 

It continued to be fine until one morning Steve came downstairs in jeans—obscenely tight jeans, not that Eddie noticed—and a polo shirt. The first time either of them had put real clothes on since the ill-fated party. 

Maybe he was expecting someone?

Eddie wasn’t sure how Steve had managed to keep the kids and everyone else away for this long, but he was grateful for the time to get his shit together within their private little bubble while it lasted. “Who’re you all dressed up for?” He asked.

Steve held up a grocery list scrawled on a notepad in answer, smaller than the one stashed under the bed in Eddie’s room—

Not his room, though, he had to remind himself. Steve's guest room. He had to stop thinking of it as though this living arrangement were a permanent one. Had to remember the reason he was here in the first place—because Steve and Wayne were afraid he might hurt himself. He wasn’t bitter about that fact anymore, really he wasn’t, but he was feeling pretty good now, and maybe it was time to start acting like it. 

Eddie hadn't forgotten Hopper’s warning to avoid public places, but the grocery store in the middle of the day on a random Tuesday hardly seemed like a risk.

“Can I come?” He asked.

Eddie pushed the cart, following behind Steve like a lost puppy, providing minimal commentary while he shopped. It was nice, in a way, to be out and about, but he also felt a little jittery about being so exposed, and was grateful for something to do with his hands. 

It was impossible not to notice the lingering stares and whispers being thrown in his direction from the other customers, as few and far between as they were, but he was determined not to let it bother him.

Steve had seen it too, making sure to never get too far ahead, and more than once Eddie saw him staring daggers back at some old lady until she was forced to look away with a huff. 

Just as Eddie was starting to relax, knowing they were in the home stretch and might actually get out of the store without incident, they rounded a corner and came across a boy wearing a familiar green and white letterman jacket.

It was Andy, because of course it was, and he wasted no time getting right in Eddie’s face, spitting with each hate filled word he spewed. “Who let you out of the house, Munson? You should be locked up, I don’t care what the police said. You’re a fucking murderer.”

Before Eddie could even react Steve was there shoving Andy away from him. The other boy stumbled back into a chip display, sending a dozen or more bags falling to the ground, a few crunching underneath him as he regained his footing. 

“Back off man, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Steve snarled.

Andy recovered quickly and pushed into Steve’s space next, puffing up, and trying without success to loom over him. “Harrington, I knew you’d changed, but you’re hanging out with freaks like him now?”

A sound not unlike a growl came crawling out of Steve’s throat, making Andy take a step back. It looked involuntary, and Eddie wondered if he even realized he’d done it. He was tempted to let the scene play out, but, as hot as it would be to see Steve beat the ever loving shit out of someone like Andy—someone who’d hurt a little girl while following the orders of his deranged leader—Eddie knew he had to stop this before someone called Hopper. He wasn’t really in the mood for a lecture today. 

Eddie reached out, wrapping a hand around Steve’s bicep, gently holding him back. “Forget him, Steve. He’s not worth it. Let’s just go, okay?”

For a split second Steve tensed at the touch, then leaned into it, shaking himself. “Yeah, okay.”

Thankfully Andy seemed to understand that he’d gotten lucky, not so brave when his opponent was the same size as him, and let them pass with nothing further than a few more dirty looks.

Steve stuck close to Eddie’s side, guiding them right to the checkout though Eddie was sure there were a few more things on his list, but he certainly wasn’t going to argue. He was ready to get out of there, and go back into hiding for the day. 

They drove back to the house in an awkward silence that continued on even as they pulled into the driveway and carried all the bags into the kitchen, neither of them quite knowing what to say. Eddie knew better than to think Steve was mad at him, and maybe going along had been a bad idea but it could have been worse. He was actually feeling remarkably calm about the whole thing now that it was over, except for the fact that Steve kept sneaking these long glances at him whenever he thought he wasn’t looking.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Eddie mumbled as he started to unpack the groceries, unable to ignore it any longer. 

Steve’s cheeks went pink. “Sorry,” he breathed, shaking his head at himself as he reached for one of the bags, taking out the milk and butter, and putting them away in the fridge.

“Hey,” Eddie said softly, ducking his head to catch Steve’s eye as he turned back around. “I'm okay, I promise. I'm not gonna go off the deep end or whatever you're worried about, ok? Screw that asshole and everyone who agrees with him. We know the truth, and that’s all that matters.” 

He wasn’t sure he wholeheartedly believed that yet, but he was trying.

“Sorry. You’re right,” Steve sighed. “You did great. I'm the one who lost it. I just—I hate that anyone thinks that way about you.” He dragged his feet as he crossed back to the counter, rifling through another of the bags. 

“Steve–” Eddie bit his lip, something like panic swelling in his chest even as his stomach did somersaults over Steve’s words. “Why… and I swear I'm not being a dick this time, but—why are you doing all this for me?”

Maybe Steve really was just that good of a friend, that caring of a person. Eddie could believe that—did believe that, by this point. But, no one had ever looked at him the way Steve looked at him, and all of it was becoming too much to ignore. Too many late night rescues and soft voices in the dark. Too many mornings of waking up on the same pillow, arms and legs wound so tightly together, as though their separate bodies were trying to become one while they slept. 

And now, ready to fight some dickhead in the middle of Kroger in broad daylight to defend his honor.

Eddie was scared to death of the answer to his question but he had to know, even if the answer might have the power to destroy him, no matter what it was.

“Eddie…” Steve’s face crumpled, like it broke his heart that Eddie had even asked the question. But there was something else too, something peeking out from behind his eyes, that thing Eddie couldn’t bring himself to admit was real, that he hoped wasn’t real because, that would be a very different kind of torture. Cruel and unusual punishment from the universe.

“I care because it’s you. Because you’re one of us. Because you’re my friend. Because…” Steve took two steps forward, standing so close that the toes of their sneakers were touching as he gently took the can of Spaghettios out of Eddie’s hand, and put it back down on the counter.

Eddie couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move—wouldn’t have wanted to if he could, but also he did kind of want to run from the room screaming. Kind of wanted to take the question back and resume pretending. Put his head firmly back in the sand.

“Because…” Steve’s eyes flicked down to Eddie’s mouth, completely unaware of the war raging in his head, before stepping impossibly closer, bringing their bodies flush as he pressed Eddie back into the countertop, and slotted their lips together.

Chapter 6

Thanks and love to @penny00dreadful and @pearynice for all your help and encouragement with this.

Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers @bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog 

@goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari @awkwardgravity1 @rocknrollsalad

[thevegandarkelf]

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Two

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, mention of amputation

Word count: 2.1k

Aaron and I stayed in that shed for probably two hours. He told me about his S.O. Eric and how they got separated, how he hoped that Eric had made it back safely. He told me about some of the people in Alexandria, how this large group of ragtag misfits had come together to form one giant family. There was power and water and food and shelter.

Alexandria sounded like a dream.

At some point, he took a lengthy nap, which I used as time to write. During my residency and throughout this last year and a half, the only hobby I had & thing that managed to keep me semi-sane was writing. I came to love writing poetry in med school & had journals upon journals filled to the brim with my work stuffed into my bedroom closet on a small shelf. I wish I could have brought even a few of them with me.

After he woke up, I gave him some more of my water and a little bit of my food. He pulled at the corner of the silver bag, stopping to read the text on the front.

“Is this fucking freeze-dried ice cream?” Aaron asked, laughing as he tore the corner off the bag.

“My dad was an astronaut. You don’t wanna know how much of that shit was stacked in closets in his office. I took all that would fit into my backpack before I started making my way out here,” I responded. He pulled the small, hard Neapolitan brick out of the bag, taking a bite out of the corner.

“Can I be frank?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“This tastes like shit,” he chuckled. I laughed in response.

“It does, but it’s food. I’ve been living off of that for the last year and a half. And any random cans I’ve found along the way,” I said, “I haven’t kept track of time, but it feels like it’s been months since I had food that wasn’t freeze-dried.”

“Well, once we get back, we’ll get you taken care of,” he told me. I suppressed my squee of joy and instead let it spread across my face in a gigantic grin.

After a little more time talking, he seemed like he had gotten enough strength back to slowly head back to Alexandria. I grabbed my spear and put it under my arm, propping myself up onto my feet.

“Alright, we’re gonna get you on your…” I caught the word I was going to say in my mouth, “foot…and take as long as we need to get back. Is there any chance some people could be sent out looking for you?” I put my arm around him again, and he put his weight onto his foot to push himself into a standing position. He then distributed his weight between his foot and on me.

“I mean, there’s a chance, but only if Eric made it back and told them what happened,” he told me. I unsheathed my spear to use as a walking stick, the sharp end pointing to the sky. We hobbled slowly to the door, and I had him stop and rest on a table.

“Let me make sure it’s clear.” I swung the door open and walked the perimeter of the small shed, listening and making sure there weren’t any Walkers nearby. I found a large stick on the ground for Aaron to use, picking it up and bringing it back to him. “Here, use this.” He took it in his free hand and gave me a nod. I grabbed him again, and after slipping through the door, I let him lead the way to the road.

“So you’ve obviously got medical skills. What’s your combat experience like?”

We hobbled along the road, me telling him about my brothers and my family and how I’d been alone all this time. Never had a group. There was the occasional Walker, which I would take care of with my spear. It was a peaceful walk for the most part.

After a couple of hours, I could see a wall through the trees. Aaron’s face lit up, as did mine. The two people on either side of what I assumed was the front gate raised their guns in our direction, keeping them poised. After we were out of the trees, they dropped their weapons when they realized it was Aaron.

“He’s back!” one of them shouted. One of them signaled to someone I couldn’t see, and they started opening the gate. A blonde man slipped through the small gap in the gate like butter and began running over.

“Eric!” Aaron yelled, starting to pick up his pace a little. Eric ran over at mach speed, embracing Aaron in a vice grip the second they touched. I pushed forward on Aaron to keep both of them from falling over. One of the two started making their way towards us, the other walking off towards the side to the trees. I was so enamored by Eric and Aaron that I didn’t even see him coming up behind me.

“No, no she’s with me!” Aaron screamed behind him. Before I could fully process what was happening, the back of my head was struck, the pain vibrating across my face and down my neck. I could feel myself falling forward, and everything turned black before I hit the ground.

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

I slowly opened my eyes. Wherever I was was very bright, and the light was blinding. The back of my head was pulsating, each throb matching my heartbeat. I was sat upright, I could tell that much. After several rounds of blinking, I was able to open my eyes.

“She’s awake,” I heard a man’s voice say. It took a moment for my eyes to focus, but when they did, I realized I was in some kind of small cell. The first thing I noticed was a man sitting in front of me. He was leaned back in a chair, one leg propped up onto the other. He looked cool as a cucumber as he held his crossbow up, pointed right at me.

His voice was like gravel in my ears. And I liked it.

I practically fell over jumping up to my feet, putting my hands up at my sides. I backed up into the far corner. Looking around the room, I saw a few more people come in, each one taking a seat either in a chair or on a set of steps.

“Ya got other weapons on ya, sunshine?” the man with the crossbow asked me. I chuckled a little. I was wearing a black cropped tank and a skort where a portion of the front skirt part was missing. My clothes were small and fitted, so I don’t know where else they thought I could store a weapon.

“Look at me,” I said, shaking my hips a little and twirling in a circle, “where could I possibly store another weapon, up my p—“

The three women in the group giggled at my comment. “Shut up and sit down,” another man instructed. This one was wearing a cowboy hat and had a star-shaped badge pinned to his chest. The way this man spoke indicated that he was some sort of authority figure in this group.

“Could call it a pussy knife,” I said under my breath as I sat down on the small bench against the back wall of the cell.

“You’re gonna start with telling us who you are and what happened to Aaron,” he instructed. I leaned back and folded my arms across my chest, examining the group. There was the one with the crossbow, the sheriff with an attitude, a woman with grey hair, an Asian guy, another woman with short hair who looked around my age or a little older, and a Black woman with dreads, probably also not much older than me.

“What’s your name, cowboy?” I asked the sheriff, sass lacing my voice, “y’know, so I can address you properly.”

“Rick,” he told me, “Rick Grimes.”

“Well Rick, have you talked to Aaron yet?”

“You’ll give us your story first, then we’ll make sure it matches his.”

“Can I have my stuff back?”

“You might get it back, depending on whether or not I like your answer.” I met his gaze and sighed.

Fuck cops.

“I’m Vector, and I think I’m 32, depending on what month it is. I’m a trauma surgeon. Well, I had a month left of my residency when…all of this started. I was at Johns Hopkins for my residency and going home to see family for vacation. I had hardly left the hospital when people started evacuating. I decided to drive all the way back home where I found out that one of brothers had already lost his life. I, umm…”

I paused, trying to find my wording without letting my emotions get the best of me, “had to put him out of his misery. After some wandering, I found out about Alexandria, and…here I am. Got lucky enough to find Aaron. He got bit, by the way. I had just woken up and he was getting attacked nearby, which I saved him from. You’re welcome. I carry medical supplies on me, so I got him to safety, amputated his foot, patched him up, and here we are.”

“He said you gave him food and water?” Rick said. I rolled my eyes and huffed.

“So you have talked to him?” I scoffed, “and yes I did. I could’ve just killed him, or taken his stuff and ran, but I didn’t. Because I’m a doctor, and he needed help. That’s what I do.” There was a silence that hovered over us for what felt like ages. It felt like they were reading me, trying to gauge whether or not I was telling the truth. Meanwhile, the one with the crossbow hadn’t let up once.

“What kind of doctor did you say you were?” the woman with the grey hair asked.

“I’m a trauma surgeon. I was working in the ER before all this. I amputated limbs, put limbs back on, did organ transplants. I saw gunshot wounds, third-degree burns. You name it, I’ve probably done it,” I explained, “actually, my plan after completing my residency and getting a few years under my belt was to eventually join Doctors Without Borders, but now we’re here.”

“That’s uh…wow, that’s really commendable,” Rick stated, a small smile crossing his face. I nodded. “Do you have a group that would be looking for you?”

“No, I’ve never had a group. Just me, the pack on my back, and my own thoughts,” I explained, pointing to my head. The group looked surprised by what I said.

“You’ve survived by yourself this whole time?” he asked me, sounding surprised. I nodded.

“Never wanted to join anyone. I had my heart set on Alexandria from the moment I heard about it. Sometimes I would come across people, like I did Aaron, and I would offer my medical services and take off. Never really stuck around one place for too long.”

“Well that’s very trusting of you,” Rick commented, “how has that worked out?” I bit my lip to keep myself from wincing at the memories from that day.

“Well, for the most part,” I said. I rubbed at the rope scars on my wrists in a way that I hoped was discreet, “I mean, I’ve made it this long on my own, right?”

“What are your combat skills like?” he questioned. I had to suppress my laughter.

“I grew up with three older brothers…all Navy SEALs…they taught me everything they knew.” I leaned forward between the bars, locking eyes with Rick. “I’ll let you guess how my combat skills are.” The man with the crossbow made a face, though I couldn’t decipher what it meant. Rick seemed to take notice.

“Would you like her to demonstrate, Daryl?”

“Yeah, would you like me to demonstrate, Daryl?” I smirked, “I could kick you in the balls, bring you to your knees, and knee you in the face. Don’t need to be a Navy SEAL to know how to do that.”

“I like her,” the woman with the short hair said, laughing.

“Ya just tiny s’all,” Daryl commented. His Southern drawl and gravel-laced voice made me weak, though I didn’t let it show.

“I’m like 5’7”, I am not tiny,” I retorted, “and can you tell him to stop pointing that thing at me? I’m clearly not going to hurt anyone from in here.” Rick nodded to Daryl, who finally lowered his bow. “Thank you.” He then turned to the Asian man to his left, who got up and came over toward my cell, unlocking it and swinging the door open. I hesitated for a moment before stepping out, scanning my eyes across the group.

“Sooooo…does this mean I get to stay?” I asked, a small but enthusiastic smile crossing my face, “I promise I’ll be useful. Sassy, but useful.”

“Yes,” Rick said, “Welcome to Alexandria.”

[luca-spring-creature]

intro post i guess (tw)

🪸posts will be related to: queer identities, transspecies dragon stuff, self harm or suicide, astral projection, veganism, witchcraft, astrology, etc. here's some info about me

🌱my transspecies identity is complicated. I suppose it's spiritual and psychological? I'm a spiritual guard dragon (I'm off my shift). I have a dragon soul which directly impacts my psychology if that makes sense. it's not a species since I'm the only one of my kind, but I'm basically a semi-aqautic, sirenic tropical drake/wingless dragon. quadroped, mermaid tail, webbed claws, and POSSIBLY 6 horns (2 upper seawing horns, 2 mid ram horns, 2 lower bull horns). probably the size of a horse, more or less. no fire-breathing powers. definitely a treasure hoarder. herbivorous (coconut water my love). love sunbathing.

🌱if being transspecies was a choice I'd probably choose to be a crystal gem (steven universe).

🌱my hearthomes are florida and indonesia

🌷terms i go by: Mx, Ser, AFAB, gentleman, he/him, xey/xem, mist/mists, king, princex, transmasc, bro sib, non-human. Do NOT call me cute/pretty/beautiful/ugly/any other comment on my appearance.

🌷romantic/sexual orientation: black stripe asexual, kinsexual, kinromantic, demiromantic, fateestherromantic, uranicromantic, ace4ace, lovestruck monogamist

🌷romantic/sexual stances: sex averse, sex repulsed, romance averse

🌷tertiary attraction: apothiaesthetic, friendless aplatonic, afamilial, unisensual, analterous, aqueerplatonic, probably aspec in all other tertiary attraction too lol

🌷gender and pronouns: he/him, xey/xem, mist/mists, transgender, nonbinary, neoboy, nascigender, bigenderflux, genderNH

🌊favorite music genres: goth, rock, metal, pop, indie, folk, celtic, bossa nova, downtempo

🌊favorite goth artists: the shroud, Lebanon hanover, sad lovers and giants, mareux, sanguis et cinis, the frozen autumn, mystic priestess

🌊favorite other artists: billie eilish, rob zombie, lana del rey, three days grace, cigarettes after sex, mitski

dni list

radqueers/promotion of harmful identities (including but not limited to transracial, transable, factkin, harmful paraphilia etc.)

bigots (including but not limited to transmed, anti-neopronouns, and anti-xenogender)

pro-mass tourism

anti-otherkin/therian/transspecies

goth/punk/emo are NOT strictly fashion. they are entire subcultures that are generally music based and political based but also have DIY and other things too, and for many, fashion. DNI if you are not going to respect this fact.

no misgendering of any kind. calling someone they/them if that someone does not have they/them listed under preferred pronouns IS STILL MISGENDERING. not everyone uses they/them, in the same way not all AFABs use she/her or not all AMABs use he/him.

[toastthewolfie]

again.

*coughs blood* its done idk why but she’s here and she’s very silly

information from @olibird’s template! :D (i hope the tag is okay!!!!)

Tw for self harm (under ‘Issues’) and a vague mention of suicide in the backstory. And discussion of death i suppose. I dunno, sorry, it’s late and im tired

Name: Astrid Ek (I swear i tried to figure out a better name but this is the name that stuck when i searched up stuff about common names in Sweden

Aliases: N/A

Nationality: Swedish/American       Ethnicity: Swedish/British (Mother is Swedish, her father is British)

Age:  23              DoB: (M/D/Y) 09/10/1990

Pronouns: She/Her         Gender: Cis Female

Sex: F

Sexuality: Demisexual, Demiromantic, and Bisexual

Height: 6’

Languages: Swedish (Native), English (Secondary)

Which CoD Universe: the Modern Warfare Reboot timeline

Branches of Service: United States Army

Affiliation:  U.S. Army (formerly), Shadow Company (Current)

Specialties: Debriefing. She does a lot of paperwork (she’s basically a desk jockey but with the skills to kick someone’s ass if needed)

Personality: Serious (and judgemental). Jokes go over her head like 70% of the time (mostly because she’s incredibly sleep deprived most days) and she sometimes will just blankly stare at you because she thinks you’re weird or just.. thinks that the shit you just said is very 😨

Backstory: 

        Born and raised in a military family, Astrid grew up moving around a lot before her family settled in America after her mother’s discharge and her father retiring at the age of 11 in Seattle. Feeling slightly pressured, Astrid signed up for basic training for the United States Army at 21 after receiving her bachelors in analytics where she met her friend, Emily. The two quickly became best friends who pushed the other up during training (and got into mischief together). 

         Of course, all good things must end and on a mission 6 years later, Emily pushed Astrid out of the way of a gunner, sacrificing her life to protect her. Unable to operate on the field after that (despite multiple attempts to do so), Astrid retired from the army, almost immediately running into Phillip Graves at a random bar. The two managed to get talking and it somehow ended with Phillip inviting Astrid into joining shadow company and, having nothing else to do and knowing she’d probably kill herself if she didn’t, she agreed on the spot.

She’s been here ever since, so she’s going on 8 years.

Issues: sleep deprivation, protective to a fault, easy to anger (even if she doesn’t show it), overworking, and sometimes scratches at herself hard enough to draw blood when stressed

Habits: If anyone is injured on a mission, Astrid has a habit of either following at a distance if it’s serious or grabbing the injured party and checking them over herself before sending them to medical.

Scars: Small scratches at the base of her ribs.

Preferred method of showing care/affection/love language: Physical Touch and Acts of Service

Preferred way of receiving care/affection: Quality Time and Physical Touch.

Eye Color: Grey

Hair description: Blonde (greying out a bit)

Clothing description: 

Waist-length green jacket with a bunch of pockets and a swedish flag on the left sleeve, light grey turtleneck, greyish brown belt, bluish grey pants and black and grey cat-like boots (just because she’s serious doesn’t mean she can’t have some silly boots (Emily liked them on her so she’s used them ever since))

Body description: Semi-Built but otherwise skinny.

Favorite Activities: I dunno, she doesn’t get a lot of free time (self imposed. She feels the need to work until she can’t just to try and protect her the shadows

Blood Type: B-

Favorite color: Green

Favorite animal: Cats

Favorite food/Dessert: Carrots. I dunno she likes snacking on them when she gets the chance.

Other Fun Facts:

Doesn’t speak in English if it’s not necessary. She finds that it’s easier to convey her thoughts in Swedish than in English

Can/Will pass out from exhaustion in literally in any position if she can’t work anymore

Sleep talks (more like sleep mumbles) in swedish about random combat terms

Will sometimes just subconsciously ruffle the hair of anyone shorter than them if they did a good job (for people taller than her, they get a soft tap on the side or shoulder because she can’t reach their hair. Will sometimes hug someone if they look like they need it (and they like hugs, ofc)

she’s not scared of needles, she also knows how to administer narcan if absolutely necessary (for some reason, her mother decided that it was something she should know)

Feel free to ask any questions about her :)

[rattycattyfanfic]

dream that she's invisble

Rated: T Pairing: Amanda Young/Lynn Denlon Words: 5,986

She imagines holding her breath until she passes out. She shoves her face deeper into the pillow, and muffles a pathetic, wet sound of a sob in the laundry-detergent scent. Imagines dying, asphyxiating in Lynn’s ivory linen. She knows better, knows all too well the body’s awful determination to live, the way it will begin to kick and convulse, fighting for oxygen. Plastic in her hands, the reek of shit and death, Adam’s malnourished body managing to overpower her even in its weak, final moments. Scared lamb kicking and flailing in her arms, instinctive, violent. Even if she passes out, she will probably roll over and begin to breathe again whether she wants to or not.

grief.

Read on AO3

tws in this one for big themes of suicidal ideation, childhood trauma, grief, mentions of heroin/self harm and semi-abuse of prescription pills, and mandy bad brain.

[dandyshucks]

ooooh babeyyy who's the best headmate? yeah, that's right - it's me LMAO. hi everyone, how y'all doing, it's Chase again 👋 in an effort to be somewhat social and also to brag about my capabilities, I am making a post on this blog lmao.

Look at this shit y'all (idk what mobile formatting looks like so uh. use desktop maybe):

You get a secret sneak preview to this lmao, the link isn't anywhere on the main page yet.

Anyways in the past three days while Juno's been AWOL, I've figured out how to add an audio player; how to layer elements on the webpage; and how to align the text and images beside each other inside the scroll box while maintaining the vertical scroll (it kept lining everything up horizontally for a while lmfao).

The text beside the images is just some bullshit that Lake and I came up with (based off of stuff Juno's written/brainstormed in the past) to test the text alignment out since Juno isn't around to give me any input, but I feel like we did a good job making it sound like some shit they'd come up with lol.

I'll give a small update on The Situation while I'm here in case anyone's wondering what's been going on:

I never know how much I'm supposed to say about anything lol uhhh.

TL;DR is just that Juno was having a very difficult time the past week because of Things, and is now unreachable and thus won't be fronting for an indeterminate amount of time - they could be back tomorrow, they might be back in a week, I have no fucking idea tbh. So this blog is on semi-hiatus until they're back because the rest of us either don't have a lot of interest in the s.elfship stuff ourselves or we just don't want to like... intrude on this space.

slightly longer version of it (TW abuse and suicide mention):

some emotional abuse stuff at home has been ramping up significantly, and this has been having an extremely bad effect on Juno (understandably so) especially since they've been trying to handle this shit without our help, so we've had to put them on lockdown essentially so we can like. remain alive lol. I'm trying not to be too flippant about it but uh yeah. that's the gist of it. love a good suicide scare, amiright? I'm not in charge of the decision to put them on lockdown, I have no say in how it all gets handled, I'm just here to fill the host role while Juno's gone.

They'll be gone until Kam and Lake decide they're okay enough to not do anything stupid and desperate the moment they get into front lmao, so in the meantime I'm the one who'll be fronting for the most part. And while I do like the idea of getting with G.uzma myself, I don't have much of an interest in posting about it LMAO - plus my own dynamic with the guy would be pretty fucking different from Juno's, and that's not what y'all followed for.

(Kam - "gatekeeper"/the one who's basically in charge of shit and also the resident lesbian; Lake - bisexual swag with big caretaker energy; Chase (me) - faggy freak who probably shouldn't have this much responsibility lmaoooo)