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summerwritesfics · 1 year ago

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🔥❄️A Fading Memory When My Mind Is Frozen

Pairing: Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Liang Length: 8179 Words Rating: Mature Warnings: Canon Divergence, Tarkatan Clone!Kuai Liang, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Existential Crisis, Angst, Distrust, Mild Gore, Hunting, Animal Death (Very brief and is in the context of hunting), Past Character Death, Emotionally not safe for Kuai (Like he’s pretty physically safe in this one but emotionally he’s going through it) Non-Consensual Body Modification (at least… that’s what I’m implying here) SubScorp Week 2023: Experimentation

SubScorp Week 2023 Masterlist

Notes: I am aware this is such a late post, and in my own defence, I did actually post it on AO3 during SubScorp Week itself, I just never got around to cross posting it here lmao. I’ll be honest last month I completely revamped this blog, and ever since I’ve kinda been dying to post again. Am I back off hiatus? Eh, not really. But y’know… I’m trying & MK1 releases next week so y’know… the plot bunnies will probably be hopping around a bit :) Fic title is from “Frozen” by Celldweller.

Hanzo entered the room with extreme caution.

These Flesh Pits were Shang Tsung’s pride and joy, the place he worked on his most depraved experiments. While it was unguarded, it was highly likely there would be some form of trap to discourage intruders. He had to be careful.

They all knew about Mileena now, the half Tarkatan clone of Princess Kitana. It was as twisted as it was sad. Despite everything, Hanzo did feel a strange sympathy for Mileena. She had never asked to be made, especially not like this. Maybe one day, they’d be able to make her see she was another victim and that they didn’t have to be her enemy.

That, however, was something to tackle another day. The current issue at hand was if there were any other experiments that Shang Tsung was working on.

Hanzo had rather drawn the short straw on going to investigate.

He heard broken glass crunch under his boot, as he glanced around. There were many strange body sized pods, although they were all completely empty. Hanzo assumed it was where the clones were grown. His eyes were drawn to a board across the room, with various papers pinned to it. He took a quick glance, but nothing really made sense to him, they just looked like general anatomy drawings you’d find in a collection of field notes.

A bubbling sound caught his attention as he turned on his heels to see where it came from. Over in the corner, a green light glowed ominously. He pulled his kunai out of his pocket, as he slowly approached the glow. As he got closer, he realised it was coming from another pod. Only this one seemed to be filled with a thick green liquid, a shadowy figure could just about be seen inside.

So, it seemed there was at least one more clone in Shang Tsung’s possession.

As Hanzo stood in front of the pod, he realised there was a small plaque on the front. Engraved into the metal were the words “Kuai Liang” . Hanzo raised an eyebrow. Kuai Liang? What does that mean? It sounded like Chinese, but he was far from an expert. He suddenly wished one of the Shaolin had accompanied him.

The liquid bubbled again, the shadow twitching slightly. Was this another Mileena, or could it be someone different? If this clone was as unstable as Mileena, then it could be dangerous to let them free. He supposed he wouldn’t know unless he opened the pod.

Despite his head screaming at him not to, he reached forward for a button he assumed would open the pod. There was a strange whirring sound, and then the sound of rushing water, as slowly the green liquid began to lower and drain. Soon it was low enough to reach the shadow, revealing raven black hair. Hanzo hissed, it really could just be another Mileena.

But then the clone's face was revealed, and Hanzo had to do a double take at what he saw.

Because the face on the other side of the glass was Bi-Han’s.

Or at the very least, it was close to Bi-Han’s. There was a large scar down the side of the clone’s face, as well as the signature Tarkatan teeth. Strangely, the clone also seemed to be a fair bit shorter than Bi-Han too.

The questions began turning in Hanzo’s head. Why did Shang Tsung make this clone? Did The Lin Kuei want this clone made? Did Bi-Han know about it? Hanzo doubted he’d have let anyone go to the flesh pits if he did. What could possibly be its purpose?

The whirring finally stopped, before there was a loud click. The door to the pod slowly creaked open. Still the clone did not move, Hanzo wasn’t even sure he was breathing. He reached a hand forward, trying to take the clone’s wrist to check his pulse.

But as Hanzo’s hand touched the other’s skin, the clone took a very deep intake of breath. His eyes shot open and he fell back, breathing frenzied and pupils darting around like he was trying to figure out where he was.

“Easy,” Hanzo commanded, holding his hands up to show he meant no harm. “Are you okay?”

The clone’s breathing evened out, as he stared straight at Hanzo. His face twitched slightly, before he pushed himself out of the pod. His legs almost gave out under him, and Hanzo just about managed to catch him before he fell.

“Slowly,” Hanzo instructed.

The clone looked up at him and blinked. Using Hanzo as a support, he pushed himself to stand up straight. He didn’t move, just stared at Hanzo, like a lost puppy looking for attention.

“Uh… Hello,” Hanzo tried, he really wasn’t sure if the clone could understand him. “My name is Hanzo.”

The clone blinked and tilted his head, before answering with “I am Kuai Liang.”

Well, that explained the engraving. At this, the clone pushed away from Hanzo and walked away, seeming a lot more steady on his feet now. Although now that he was a distance away from him, Hanzo realised the poor man was completely naked.

“Where am I?” Kuai Liang asked, looking around with wonder. He paused and looked down at his hands. “There is something I am meant to do.”

“What do you mean?” Hanzo asked, watching as Kuai began to wander aimlessly around the room. Dread was starting to set in. Even though he didn’t appear aggressive right now, Hanzo wasn’t sure it would remain like that.

“There is something… I am…” He trailed off, as he spun on the spot, tilting his head to look up at the ceiling. “I am… Supposed to follow someone’s orders.” Kuai suddenly jumped slightly, head snapping over to Hanzo. “Oh! Is it you? Am I supposed to follow your orders?”

“I-“ Hanzo hesitated, not entirely sure what to say to that. At least he was fairly certain now that this clone was created for The Lin Kuei. Who else would want an exact copy of Bi-Han except with less fight-back against orders?

“Ah! It must be!” Kuai nodded confidently, before rushing over to Hanzo and bowing. “What are your orders, Master?”

Oh fuck. How the hell was he supposed to navigate this situation? He had come in somewhat expecting a fight, not whatever the hell this was. Still, Kuai Liang seemed docile for now, and if he continued to be like that, maybe he could get them both to the other defenders to figure out what the hell to do.

“We need to get out of here,” Hanzo began, before his eyes flicked downwards. Ah. Right. Kuai was naked. While the clone didn’t exactly seem to mind, Hanzo still wanted to give him some dignity. “But first we need to get you dressed.”

He glanced around, spotting what looked like a tattered robe on one of the tables. It looked like it was barely hanging together by a thread, but at the very least, it would do for now. He grabbed it, and went back towards Kuai. He grabbed Kuai’s arms and positioned them so they were over his head, before he pulled the robe down over Kuai’s body. It didn’t give much coverage after all, but it was enough.

“Right.” Hanzo brushed his hands, before reaching to grab one of Kuai’s. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Yes Master,” Kuai agreed, eagerly following Hanzo, and blissfully unaware of how much being referred to as that made Hanzo cringe. He’d find a way to bring it up later. Right now, they needed to get out of the flesh pits alive.

This was all extremely exciting.

Kuai couldn’t get over how incredible the world was. This was his first time ever seeing it, and he was fascinated by it. The thick jungle was amazing. Full of green plants and trees so large it was like they touched the skies themselves. Every so often, there was a flash of colour between the green, and he’d find himself drawn in by the beautiful flowers.

Master wasn’t anywhere near as impressed, if his facial expression was anything to go by. But he didn’t do anything to stop Kuai from investigating things. Kuai supposed that was understandable. Master had probably seen this all before. Whereas for Kuai Liang, absolutely everything was new. The world was new. New and absolutely amazing.

“Oh! Look! There is a bird sitting on that tree!” Kuai pointed towards the beast. It was small, and had wings. That was what a bird was right? How did he know it was a bird? How did he know this was a jungle? How did he know what plants and trees were? This was all new to him, right?

Why did he know what these things were?

“Kuai Liang, I appreciate that this is all very exciting for you,” Master calmly spoke, approaching Kuai and gently taking his hand. “But right now, we need to get back to my group of allies. Once we are there, I swear I will let you look at everything you want. Okay?”

“Ah. Yes, sorry Master.” Kuai was getting a little ahead of himself, wasn’t he? He wasn’t supposed to want to chase his own desires. Only serve the demands of his Master. And if his Master wanted to get somewhere, he really needed to stop holding him up.

Master grimaced slightly, as he tugged on Kuai’s hand to guide him through the foliage.

“You know, Kuai Liang, I really would prefer you not call me Master,” he said.

“Oh.” Kuai hadn’t even considered that Master would want to be called something other than that. There was something strange inside that compelled him to refer to him as that. “Then, what would you prefer I refer to you as?”

“Just Hanzo, would be fine.”

“Very well, Just Hanzo,” Kuai replied, putting aside the way that felt wrong coming out of his mouth. But surely Just Hanzo’s desires mattered more than how he felt, right?

Just Hanzo made a strange face, but whatever he was thinking, he chose to keep it to himself.

Kuai heard rustling above them, tilting his head to look up while trying to keep walking at the same pace as Just Hanzo. The bird that had been sitting up there had taken flight, and Kuai watched it go.

“Ah, the bird is flying,” he informed Just Hanzo, in case he needed to know. Kuai frowned, the bird looked actually kind of tasty. “I want to eat it.”

“Maybe later.” Just Hanzo gently pulled on Kuai’s arm, and Kuai realised that he’d come to a stand still again. “Kuai Liang, may I ask you some questions?”

“Of course, Just Hanzo,” Kuai replied eagerly, deciding to keep his attention on the other man in the hopes it would encourage him to keep walking and stop getting distracted.

“Do you know why you were made?” That was a strange question. Kuai was aware of how he’d come to be, if only vaguely, but as to why? He only knew he was supposed to follow orders.

“I… To follow your orders, Just Hanzo,” he replied, deciding this was probably a test. That has to be it right? Just Hanzo was making sure he knew his place.

“But… Why?” Just Hanzo questioned again, looking at Kuai with his brows drawn together in frustration. “To what end do you need to follow those orders?”

There was a strange feeling in Kuai’s chest, like there were a million butterflies inside it trying to burst out between his ribs. What did Just Hanzo mean? He was created to follow orders, that’s it. He doesn’t need to know what the purpose of that was, he just needed to obey.

“I don’t understand the question,” Kuai finally squeaked out, that fluttering feeling creeping up to his throat.

Why was I created? What is my purpose?

“Kuai Liang.” Just Hanzo’s voice brought Kuai out of his panic. When Kuai looked down, he could see his hands shaking, but Just Hanzo was holding them tightly to still his tremors. “I’m sorry. My question was not meant to upset you. I just wanted to try and figure out how much you know about your own creation.”

“W-What is my purpose?” Kuai asked. If Just Hanzo was the person he was meant to follow, then surely he knew.

However the sad smile Just Hanzo gave him told him it was not that simple.

“I don’t know.” One of his hands reached up to the top of Kuai’s head, gently patting his hair. Kuai made a strange squeak as he did. It felt nice, but Kuai wasn’t sure why. “But I promise we will figure it out.”

No matter what his purpose turned out to be, Kuai was very glad it was linked to his Just Hanzo.

“Hanzo! You’re back!” Another voice called out and Kuai almost jumped a mile. A man wearing a red headband approached them, but paused in place when he noticed Kuai Liang. “I was about to ask if you found anything but uh…”

Just Hanzo coughed and turned towards the man, gently pushing Kuai forward. Ah. This man must be one of the allies he mentioned. Kuai supposed he should make a good first impression.

“Hello, I am Kuai Liang,” Kuai said brightly, pushing away his previous distress. He bowed to the man, and when he returned to stand upright, the man raised a single eyebrow.

“It’s good to meet you, I’m Liu Kang.” Liu’s eyes flicked between Kuai and Hanzo for a few seconds before he finally continued with “um, Hanzo, you are aware he looks exactly like-“

“I did notice, yes,” Hanzo cut in before Liu could finish the sentence. Kuai was a bit dumbfounded by that. What did Kuai look exactly like?

“What’s going on?” Another voice called, and Kuai heard several pairs of footsteps come from behind Liu Kang. There were two women, one wearing green and one wearing blue, and three men, one with a large hat, one with long grey hair and one…

One…

One that almost exactly shared Kuai Liang’s face.

Those butterflies were back, as Kuai stared directly into that man’s eyes. He looked as surprised as Kuai did, but Kuai couldn’t tell if he had the same feeling in his chest that Kuai did. The man didn’t have Kuai’s mouth, or his eyes, or even the scar on his face, but the rest of the resemblance was uncanny.

But more than that, when Kuai looked into that man’s eyes, he swore to the Elder Gods he knew him.

Not just because they shared a face. There was something more . Something deep inside him that told him that they had met before.

The hazy sound of a song being sung to him in Mandarin echoed through his mind.

A memory? But whose? Because it couldn’t be Kuai Liang’s…

Could it?

“What is this?” The man hissed, and Kuai wanted to flinch. He didn’t know what he’d done to upset this man, but clearly he’d done something.

“Bi-Han, please don’t be angry at him,” Just Hanzo replied, stepping forward in front of Kuai slightly, like he was trying to shield him. “I found him in a pod in the Flesh Pits. His name is Kuai Liang, and I believe he is a clone of you.”

Bi-Han’s breath hitched as he questioned “Kuai Liang?”

“It is nice to meet you,” Kuai said quietly, hoping maybe it would put the other man at ease. It only seemed to make it worse. The man’s face kept switching between fury and despair.

Bi-Han shook his head, and quickly turned away and walked off. Kuai felt himself hang his head in shame. He didn’t know what he’d done. Maybe he’d be able to make it up to him later.

“You… Really think he’s a clone of Bi-Han?” The woman in green questioned.

“You need to explain, now,” the man with grey hair growled, his voice demanding and harsh. That wasn’t the voice he usually had, he was much more soft spoken than that usually.

Wait… What?

How could Kuai possibly know how this man usually spoke? He’d never met him before.

“Let’s settle in the camp,” Liu said, stepping aside and pointing in the general direction the camp must have been. “Then we can get to the bottom of whatever is going on.”

Just Hanzo pat Kuai’s back, before once more pushing him forward gently. Kuai complied with the silent command, once more trying to push his unease away.

And ignore the feeling like something terrible was about to happen.

Hanzo had done his best to fill in Earthrealm’s forces on what had happened at the Flesh Pits. He wasn’t sure if he’d done a good job or not. They had many questions, and most of them Hanzo had no answer to. Why was Kuai Liang created? What was his purpose? Who requested his creation?

None of that was within Hanzo’s ability to answer.

Kuai himself had gotten bored at some point, so Hanzo had let him just wander around the camp a bit. Besides, it felt easier to discuss things about him without him being around. How upset he seemed about being asked his purpose, or even how he looked when he met Bi-Han. It was clear these things distressed him, and Hanzo had no intention to put him through that again.

“Are we sure we can trust him?” Kitana asked, hands clasped tightly around a cup of water. It was clear she was nervous about this, and to be fair, given her experience with Mileena, Hanzo couldn’t blame her.

“I genuinely don’t believe he’s a threat to us,” Hanzo tried to plead. He’d only spent a small amount of time with the clone, but he was certain at this point if he had wanted to hurt any of them, he would have by now.

“Just Hanzo! Look!” Hanzo looked over his shoulder to where Kuai Liang was standing, one of his ice blades out, with a bird spired onto it. “I caught a bird!”

As Kuai took a triumphant bite out of his catch, Hanzo turned back to the fellow defenders, all looking at him with deadpan expressions.

“He may, however, be a threat to wildlife.” Dammit Kuai Liang, I’m trying to vouch for you here. It wasn’t Kuai’s fault though, not really. He was just following his instincts. “My point is I think if he had wanted to hurt me at any point he would have.”

“Well, I mean at the moment he seems to believe you are his Master ,” Sonya pointed out, leaning back on her arms. “He might not be so agreeable if his real Master shows up to take control of him.”

Hanzo wanted to argue that point. But he didn’t really know what he could say against it.

“I mean, he seems to have free will,” Johnny chimed in, looking over Hanzo’s shoulder, presumably at Kuai Liang. “It’s not like he’s brainwashed or anything right?”

“Right,” Liu Kang agreed, taking a sip of his own water. “Maybe if we can encourage him to embrace his own agency, he will be more inclined to help us.”

“Embrace his own agency, yep, exactly what I was gonna say,” Johnny cheered, holding his cup up like he was making a toast. If looks could kill, the one Liu gave him would have slaughtered him in seconds.

“And what if when he embraces his agency, he decides he wants to work against us?” Jade asked, and Hanzo didn’t miss how her hand went to rest on Kitana’s shoulder.

“I mean, that’s a risk we’re just going to have to take,” Lao replied, shrugging as he did. “Let’s be fair, any of us could suddenly turn on the rest at any moment. Tomorrow morning we could wake up to find Cage has decided to sell us all out to Shao Kahn in exchange for his own mansion.”

“Hey,” Johnny exclaimed in a mock offended tone. “I’ll have you know, I consider you guys to be worth at least two mansions, thank you very much.”

“Point still stands.” Lao rolled his eyes. “We just have to trust we’ll be a good influence on him.”

“Then you should keep Cage far away from him then,” Sonya bitterly bit out between her teeth.

Despite Johnny’s complaint, the rest of the defenders laughed.

Well, everyone except Smoke.

The entire conversation, he’d been silent, staring at his hands with a frustrated look on his face. Hanzo should have known out of anyone, Smoke and Bi-Han would be the hardest to win over with this concept.

“Smoke,” Hanzo addressed, and everyone else’s laughter quietened as they all turned to look at the former Lin Kuei assassin. “I know this must be hard for you and Bi-Han to accept but… This isn’t Kuai Liang’s fault. Please, don’t take your rightful anger out on him.”

Smoke gave a defeated sigh, “you are right.” He bowed his head slightly, squeezing his eyes shut. “I just… don’t understand why they had to name him that .”

“Why? What does Kuai Liang mean?” Hanzo had wondered, but Smoke’s reaction rather implied it was a bad thing.

“No, it’s not-“ Smoke stopped, taking a deep breath. “It’s not the meaning of the name it’s-“ he paused again, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but that is Bi-Han’s tale to tell, not mine.”

Hanzo made eye contact with Liu Kang. He could see in the chosen ones eyes, he had the exact same question that Hanzo did. What does that name mean to Bi-Han?

“Uh, guys.” Kung Lao suddenly sat up, looking around frantically. “Where’s Kuai Liang gone?”

Hanzo turned around, to find, indeed, the clone was no longer in the camp. Shit. He really should have realised Kuai’s inquisitive nature would lead to him wandering off. He could only hope that he hadn’t gotten into too much trouble.

“I’ll go look for him,” Hanzo said as he stood up. “At the moment, I’m the one he trusts the most.”

“Fair enough,” Liu Kang replied with a nod. “Good luck.”

Yeah, I’m going to need it.

Hanzo hoped that maybe Kuai Liang had left a trail of half eaten wildlife for him to follow.

Kuai kept his body low to the ground, creeping forward on all fours towards his current target.

He wasn’t sure what it was. It was like a rabbit, except with even bigger ears and a long tail. He ignored his own question on how he knew what a rabbit looked like. That kept happening and it was getting more and more frustrating. Besides, when he was hunting was not the time to get bogged down with such things.

The creature stilled, its ears and nose twitching like it knew something was there. This was his chance. Kuai could jump on it now and catch it.

He launched forward, drawing his arm blades as he did. Pointing them down towards the creature, he hoped to spear it on them. However, seconds before impact, the creature went running, and Kuai could not stop his own momentum. As he withdrew the blades, he found himself falling face first into the dirt instead.

He groaned, pushing himself up on his hands. He would get that damned creature, if it was the last thing he did. Glancing around, he tried to figure out where it had gone. Until he noticed a humanoid figure in the clearing he was in.

The figure turned around when it heard him, and Kuai quickly realised it was Bi-Han, the man from earlier who shared his face.

And Kuai once again got that sickly feeling like they knew each other. It was like there was some invisible string attaching them to each other. And someone was pulling on it, daring him to get closer.

“Um… Hi,” Kuai said quietly, not sure how he should be acting. Bi-Han had seemed angry earlier, and despite Kuai’s own feelings of a connection, it didn’t mean he felt that same pull. “You didn’t see where the rabbit-thing went did you?”

“No. No I didn’t.” Bi-Han’s voice was flat, almost emotionless. Why did that make Kuai want to cry? He didn’t want Bi-Han to be mad at him, he just wanted them to be together like they used to be.

“I- I’ll go,” Kuai said quietly as he pushed himself to his feet, terrified of his own feelings. Confused by his own thoughts. What was happening to him?

“Wait,” Bi-Han said, before Kuai could turn to leave. He took a few cautious steps forward. “Do you- Do you remember me?”

And there it was, that weird flood of emotions. Was Bi-Han asking because he felt that connection too? Is that what was happening here?

“I- I don’t but-“ he hesitated when he saw the disappointment in Bi-Han’s eyes. He looked so sad that Kuai didn’t remember him. “You feel familiar to me. And not just because we share a face.”

“Do you remember Tomas?” Bi-Han asked, and Kuai shook his head, even though for some reason an image of the grey haired man came into his head.

“I- Is that the man with the grey hair’s name?” He asked, watching as Bi-Han’s eyes widened and he lent forward slightly. “But, I’m not sure why I think that.”

“What do you remember?” Bi-Han reached forward to put his hand on Kuai’s shoulder. His grip was tight, not uncomfortable but there was a strange desperation in the action.

“I woke up in the Flesh Pits. And Just Hanzo was there. And I am supposed to follow orders, so I must have to follow his orders, right?” That made sense to Kuai, but…

“Do you remember anything before the flesh pits?” Now Bi-Han’s voice sounded desperate as well, like he needed Kuai Liang to be able to answer his questions. Kuai couldn’t understand it. He had seemed so angry when he first saw Kuai, why was he suddenly so interested in him and his memories?

“No.” Kuai blinked, because he didn’t remember anything, but he certainly knew things he shouldn’t. “But I seem to have knowledge of things I shouldn’t. Like I knew what a bird was. And a rabbit.” He rubbed at his wrist with one of his hands, that fluttering feeling once more beginning to bubble in his chest again. “And… that the grey haired man was called Tomas.” He blinked a few times, before looking into Bi-Han’s eyes. “Do I know you?”

Bi-Han bared his teeth, and Kuai could only describe what he was seeing as a man in extreme agony. An emotional hurt so raw it manifested into a physical pain. The hand on his shoulder gripped a little tighter, and Bi-Han’s breathing stuttered like he was holding back tears.

Was this how Bi-Han had reacted when Kuai Liang died?

Kuai stopped breathing. I’ve never died. Why do I think I have?

“Kuai Liang,” Bi-Han asked, his voice sounding as wrecked as he looked. “What are your favourite flowers?”

“Oh, that’s easy, snowdrops!” Kuai paused as soon as that word escaped his mouth. At the horrific realisation that he had never seen a snowdrop before. “But… How can my favourite flower be something I’ve never seen?”

He looked at Bi-Han again. His free hand was over his mouth, like he was trying to stop himself from saying anything. The hand that had been on Kuai’s shoulder moved, reaching up to trace the scar over Kuai’s eye. The hand stopped its journey at Kuai’s mouth, teeth jutting out in a chaotic manner. It felt so intimate, an action that had been done a million times before.

“I don’t understand,” Kuai whispered, looking down at his own hands. “Why do I keep having these flashes of a life I haven’t lived?”

“Because you did live it, once upon a time.” Bi-Han spoke with such tenderness and care, a voice Kuai had never heard, and yet had heard so many times. “You did live it. Please , dìdi.”

In Kuai’s mind, he saw Bi-Han looking at him with an immense amount of pride.

“Well done dìdi! You’ll earn your codename in no time!”

Kuai gasped, pulling back from Bi-Han in a violent manner. His hands reached up to his head, grabbing at his hair. He couldn’t breathe, feeling like something was crushing his chest and his throat was closing up. He could hear Bi-Han talking to him, could feel his hands on his body, but the world was twisting around Kuai.

“Bi-Han!”

Kuai’s head snapped up as he realised that it was Just Hanzo’s voice. When he looked in that direction he saw a blur of yellow heading towards them. Seconds later, he felt himself being pulled backwards, and in the blink of an eye, Hanzo was in front of him rather than Bi-Han. A hand on Kuai’s head, that action Kuai so loved and wondered if he’d crave for the rest of his life.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Hanzo asked somewhat frantically. Kuai didn’t know how to answer the question. He wasn’t physically harmed, but mentally?

“I- I don’t know what’s happening to me,” Kuai admitted, trying desperately to hold back his cries and failing dismally. “I’m sorry Just Hanzo.”

“No, no, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Hanzo assured him, ruffling his hair slightly as he spoke. “None of this is your fault.”

“Hanzo,” Bi-Han started, trying to step back into Kuai’s vision.

Hanzo’s reaction was quick. Shoving Kuai behind him and using his entire body to shield him.

“Bi-Han, stop this,” Hanzo demanded, “I understand this must be strange for you, having been cloned, but none of this is Kuai Liang’s fault.”

There was silence for what felt like an eternity.

“I do not think he’s a clone of me,” Bi-Han said, sounding absolutely miserable. Kuai frowned, shifting himself so he could see around Hanzo and towards Bi-Han instead.

“What do you mean?” Hanzo asked, a hand darting backwards to stop Kuai from stepping out in front of him.

Bi-Han stared at Kuai Liang, eyes still searching for some kind of recognition. He turned his attention back to Hanzo, breathing out as he finally explained what was on his mind.

“I think he’s a clone of my younger brother.”

“I should explain,” Bi-Han began as they managed to finally gather all of the defenders.

Everyone sat around the campfire. Hanzo sat next to Kuai, putting a body between him and Bi-Han. Maybe the cryomancer didn’t mean Kuai any real harm, but it was clear this was hurting Kuai regardless. Hanzo didn’t understand why he felt so protective over the clone, but he did. Elder Gods help anyone who did try to hurt Kuai Liang, quite frankly.

“I had a younger brother. His name was Kuai Liang,” Bi-Han began, his gaze solidly on the clone. “When he was 20, he was killed on a mission. His body was never recovered.”

The defenders fell silent as they took in that information. Was it possible that Shang Tsung had managed to find the original Kuai Liang’s body, and created the Clone from his DNA? Hanzo glanced at Kuai, his head was low and he was refusing to look at anyone. All Hanzo could do is place a hand on his back, rubbing in circles to try and offer him some comfort.

“So. Shang Tsung made a clone of your dead little brother?” Kung Lao asked, a hint of disgust in his voice. “That’s low, even for him.”

Kuai curled in on himself slightly. How Hanzo resisted the urge to pull him into a hug, he didn’t know.

“Yeah, that’s kinda fucked,” Johnny added, and Hanzo couldn’t help but notice him reaching over to Kuai as well. “Hey man, we don’t blame you for this, alright. You didn’t exactly have any choice in this, after all.”

Kuai did not respond, but Hanzo did notice how when Johnny’s hand landed on Kuai’s head he did seem to lean into it. It seemed he enjoyed head pats. Hanzo wasn’t sure what to do with that information, but it was worth noting.

“What I don’t understand is why .” Sonya added, leaning backwards and crossing her arms. “Did someone ask him to do it?”

“I would assume it was The Lin Kuei,” Liu Kang said with a shake of his head. “I mean, who else would?”

“But why?” Jade questioned, stressing the fact that she didn’t think it made sense. “The Lin Kuei are hardly hurting for warriors. Why would they care about one life enough to commission a clone of them?”

“They wouldn’t.” Smoke’s declaration caught everyone off guard. Everyone’s heads snapped over to him, aside from Bi-Han and Kuai Liang. “Kuai Liang was seen as one of the weaker members. The Elders weren’t exactly fond of him, especially not enough to try and bring him back to life.” Tomas slammed his hand down, a bang echoing throughout the camp, causing Kuai to make himself even smaller, a slight tremble in his form now. “I mean for fucks sake, they didn’t even give a shit enough for them to find his body so we could give him a proper burial!”

“Tomas is right,” Bi-Han miserably confirmed. “My rank did not save him from their wrath. They pretty much despised him. There is no way they would ever put in this much effort for him.”

“Even if they got someone who would follow their orders without question in return?” Kitana asked, pointing at Kuai as she spoke. “Because from what Hanzo told us, it sounds like he was brought into this world with an instinct to blindly serve.”

“No.” Bi-Han shook his head. “Even if Kuai was obedient, he was seen as weaker and inferior.”

“So, if not The Lin Kuei, then who?” Sonya’s face was screwed up. “Or did Shang Tsung just decide to do this of his own design?”

“Did you or Kuai Liang have any enemies that may have wanted to use this against you?” Liu asked in a sincere tone. Bi-Han finally tore his attention from Kuai to Liu, giving him the most deadpan stare Hanzo had ever seen in his life.

“It would be easier to give you a list of people I have not pissed off,” Bi-Han replied in a tone as flat as his facial expression. “I am an assassin after all.”

“I guess our Kuai Liang doesn’t know anything,” Johnny gently prompted, his hand now on Kuai’s shoulder and squeezing gently. For as annoying as Hanzo found the actor, he was glad he seemed as concerned for Kuai as Hanzo was.

“No,” Kuai sadly admitted, the first thing he’d said since they sat down. He lifted his head ever so slightly, avoiding eye contact with anyone except Johnny. “I just know I’m supposed to obey someone. I thought because he woke me up, that it was Just Hanzo, but…”

“Yeah, well if I ever find who it is, I’m going to punch their nuts so hard they explode,” Johnny muttered in the most serious tone Hanzo had ever heard from him. He only just stopped himself from laughing at the juxtaposition of it all.

“What if whoever it is doesn’t have nuts?” Jax questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Same situation, just without the nuts and with ovaries instead.” Johnny shrugs. “Apparently getting hit in the pussy hurts just as much.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Sonya grumbled, clearly bitter from past experience.

“Let’s return to the topic at hand, shall we?” Jade said, sounding annoyed by the derailment. “I don’t think we’re going to get answers for who and why without confronting Shang Tsung.” She turned to Bi-Han, placing his hands on her knees. “Is there anything else about this situation we need to know about?”

Bi-Han turned back to look at Kuai again, the clone having returned to ducking his head and refusing to look at anyone. The pain on Bi-Han’s face was clear to see.

“I think he has Kuai Liang’s memories,” Bi-Han claimed, turning his full body towards Kuai. “They’re buried at the moment, but he kept saying he remembered things, and seems to have flashes of clarity.”

“What do you mean?” Hanzo asked, now it was his turn to look at Kuai Liang. Could he really have the memories of a man who’d died?

“I asked him what his favourite flower was.” Bi-Han stood up and walked over to Kuai, kneeling in front of him. “His answer was a snowdrop.” Bi-Han brought his hand up, and with his ice, a delicate flower began to form. A snowdrop. He placed the ice flower in Kuai’s hand, finally causing him to lift his head. He stared at it, before finally looking Bi-Han in his eyes. “How could you know that, without ever seeing them? Unless you have .”

That was a good question. Maybe Kuai Liang really did have his deceased self’s memories. That seemed like a dangerous thing to do however. Surely that wasn’t by Shang Tsung’s design, was it?

“Bi-Han,” Smoke tried to get his fellow Lin Kuei’s attention. “I’m sorry but… That isn’t your brother.”

Bi-Han’s head snapped over towards Smoke, and god you could see the murder in his eyes.

“He is the closest I will ever get to having Kuai Liang back!” Bi-Han jumped to his feet, summoning a spear of ice. Tomas stumbled backwards, as Liu Kang and Kung Lao swiftly went to restrain Bi-Han. “I do not care what the circumstances are, Kuai Liang has been brought back to me, and I will not allow anyone to take him away from me again.”

There was a snapping sound, as Kuai Liang clenched his fist and broke the ice snowdrop in his hand. His eyes were wide with terror. Hanzo once more went to reach for him, only for Kuai to flinch away from his touch. Before anyone could say anything, Kuai was on his feet and running off into the jungle.

Fuck. Hanzo’s heart hurt for him. All of this must have been so confusing. Hell, Hanzo was so mixed up by it, he could only imagine it being 100 times worse for Kuai Liang.

Hanzo stood up next, sparing everyone a glance and trying to give them as reassuring a smile as he could muster.

“I’ll go after him.”

He didn’t give anyone a chance to argue with him, immediately heading in the same direction that Kuai had, and hoping he hadn’t managed to get too far ahead.

All that he could hear was his own breathing, coming out of his mouth in heavy but sharp and short bursts.

He was on the edge of a cliff, not that he was really conscious of that. The world around him was spinning, and his chest burned from the effort of breathing. His hands were tangled up in his hair, his eyes stinging, face wet with tears that rolled down his cheeks.

This was all too much . How was he supposed to go on? Knowing he was nothing but an inferior copy to someone else? The knowledge he was essentially stealing another person’s life was crushing him inside. Insidious voices whispering in his head.

You’re a monster. You are a disgusting freak. Have you no respect for the dead? Taking his name and his family? You can never be what he wants you to be, you know that, right?

He desperately tried to muffle the whine that escaped his throat. Despite what Bi-Han said, he would never be Kuai Liang, not really. He was just a replacement. When Bi-Han realised that this clone could never be the Kuai Liang he wanted, he would throw him away. And frankly? Kuai couldn’t blame him.

“Kuai Liang,” a soft voice interrupted, and Kuai jumped on the spot, looking up to see Just Hanzo kneeling beside him. Kuai hadn’t even heard him approaching. “I’m sorry, I know this is upsetting you. Please, just, talk to me.”

Kuai hiccupped. He wasn’t sure how he could ever explain what he was feeling at that moment. He supposed he would have to try.

“If I am not Kuai Liang, then who am I ?” Kuai asked, hoping that would be enough to explain the existential dread overtaking his entire self. “I am nothing but a parasite, wearing a dead man’s face.”

“That isn’t true,” Just Hanzo tried to assure him, but Kuai just shook his head.

“But it is.” He reached a hand to his eyes, trying to wipe away the tears. “Tomas is right, I am not Kuai Liang. I can never be what Bi-Han wants me to be.”

“I… I know.” Just Hanzo reached a hand forward, gently patting Kuai’s head. “I don’t think the pressure Bi-Han is putting on your shoulders is fair. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t Kuai Liang.”

“But-“

“No. No buts,” Just Hanzo softly sighed. “Regardless of if you are that Kuai Liang, if you possess his memories or not, you are your own Kuai Liang, and that’s what matters.” Kuai wasn’t sure he followed the logic. Either he was Kuai Liang or he wasn’t, there really wasn’t a middle ground. “You will figure out who you are with time, and who it is you want to be.”

“What if who I am is not a good person?” Kuai asked, reaching to mess with the robe he was wearing. “I am not an idiot. I can see the way your allies look at me. Like I am about to tear them apart at any second.” Kuai’s fists clenched, what if they had a good reason to distrust him? He was already pretending to be someone else, any other lies of who he is would surely not surprise them. “What if their fears that I am nothing but a monster are true?”

“I think the fact that concerns you so much shows you are a good person.” Kuai frowned at Just Hanzo, once more not following where he was coming from. “Bad people do not generally concern themselves with if they are good or not.” Hanzo swallowed and took a deep breath, “trust me, Kuai Liang, I am an expert in the depths of evil this world can spit out and you are nowhere near that.”

Kuai wasn’t sure he could believe that. But it was clear Just Hanzo wasn’t going to let him argue the point. Instead he just turned his head, out across the view from the cliff. He wasn’t looking at anything in particular, he just couldn’t keep looking at Just Hanzo.

“I realise my words may be hollow now, but I promise, you do not have to go through this journey alone,” Just Hanzo continued. Kuai’s breath hitched as he felt the other man reach to take hold of his hand. “Whoever it is you are, regardless of if that is Kuai Liang or someone completely new, I will be by your side until you figure it out.”

Kuai turned to look at Just Hanzo again. What he found looking back at him, was the most tender expression he’d ever seen. Well, he supposed that wasn’t really much to go by. That wasn’t the point. Just Hanzo looked at him like he was a person, not the monster he felt he was. Kuai felt a strange pang to his heart, like it had skipped a beat.

The expression was so sincere, Kuai almost believed Hanzo’s words of him being a good person to be true.

“Thank you, Just Hanzo,” he replied, squeezing Just Hanzo’s hands.

“Hanzo.” The correction was gentle, and not demanding, and Kuai felt weirdly honoured that he could now drop the Just honorific of Hanzo’s name. That Hanzo trusted and respected him enough to allow him to do so.

“Thank you, Hanzo,” he said, and if his mouth wasn’t pretty much permanently open, he’d be smiling around this time. “I am… thankful it was you who found me, and not whoever ordered my creation.” That was an entirely different issue. It was clear now Hanzo was not the person whose order’s Kuai should have been following, so who was?

“We will figure that mystery out as well, believe me,” Hanzo answered the question that was never asked aloud. “And if whoever it was had nefarious purposes for you, I will not let them harm you.”

Kuai was surprised when Hanzo pulled him forward, wrapping his arms around Kuai’s torso and holding him close. It took a few seconds for Kuai to realise he was being hugged. Unsure if he was doing it right, Kuai returned the gesture by linking his own arms behind Hanzo’s back.

“By the honour of the Shirai Ryu, I will be your guardian.”

Kuai didn’t know what to say to that, just tried to show his appreciation physically by reaching up to pat Hanzo’s head. The other man laughed, before they both pulled back.

“So, what happens now?” Kuai asked, unsure if there was an actual plan.

“In the morning we will begin our trek to Outworld’s colosseum.” Hanzo pointed off in what Kuai assumed was the rough direction they would be going in. “Until then, we need to eat and rest.”

Oh, eating. Given Kuai’s expert hunting capability, he might be able to help with that. Maybe an offering of food would help the other’s trust him too.

“Want to help me try and hunt that rabbit thing I found earlier?” Kuai asked.

Hanzo chuckled again, before pulling his kunai out of his pocket and twirling it in his hand.

“Let’s go catch the little bastard.”

Kuai snorted, jumping to his feet, and gesturing for Hanzo to follow his lead. Between the both of them, they were sure to return to camp with a bountiful feast.

“Well… This presents a problem.”

Shang Tsung stood, staring at the now empty pod where Kuai Liang should have been. He placed his hands on his hips and clicked his tongue. That particular experiment had been requested by a certain client , and was due to be delivered soon. He only had the one specimen, so it had been imperative that he got everything completely right with him.

One specimen that was now missing.

Yes. This was definitely a problem.

He pulled an amulet out of his pocket, holding it up and saying “an issue has arisen.”

“What kind of issue?” A voice called out from the amulet. Shang briefly glanced down at it, before looking back towards the pod.

“Kuai Liang is gone,” he replied simply, tilting his head as he looked at the scene a little closer. He couldn’t see any scratch marks, or evidence that the pod had somehow failed. “It doesn’t look like an escape, more like someone has taken him.”

“I paid you to deliver me that specimen, Shang Tsung,” the voice growled in warning. Shang couldn’t help but roll his eyes. The Client could be so over dramatic sometimes.

“And you shall get what you paid for.” Shang walked around, trying to look for some sort of clue. If someone else had been here, they had to have left a sign. And that’s when he noticed a small torn piece of cloth that had caught on something and ripped. He lent down to pick it up, raising an eyebrow. “Yellow fabric.”

“Pardon?” The voice forcefully questioned, and Shang had to bite his tongue to stop him from replying in a sarcastic manner.

“I have just found a torn piece of yellow fabric,” Shang explained, fiddling with the fabric between his fingers. “I can think of one person who just so happens to wear yellow.”

“Hanzo Hasashi.” Shang could hear the anger in his client’s voice. Understandable, given what a thorn the former Shirai Ryu general could be.

“I would hazard a guess that the arachnid is the one who currently possesses your specimen.” He dropped the fabric, having decided he had all the information he could get from it. “And I know for a fact that Raiden’s forces are currently making their way towards the colosseum.”

“If my specimen is in any way injured or damaged-“

“I will repair it.” Shang shook his head. His experiments were far more hardy than his client was giving him credit for. Not to mention, if the Client’s plan was as solid as he thought, there was no way in hell Bi-Han would have let any harm come to Kuai Liang.

“You had better,” the client’s voice snarled, “I will be holding you to that.”

“Of course.” Deciding he’d said all that needed to be said, he put the amulet away. He took a deep breath. The Client was a useful ally, but good grief the second it was beneficial to drop him, Shang would do so in an instant.

Deadly alliance, my ass.

Still, right now, he had a certain amount of obligation to The Client. He needed to make sure the specimen was delivered. Not to mention one of his creations was running around, probably being corrupted from its purpose by Raiden’s pet Earthrealmers.

He created a portal to the colosseum, and stepped through.

#mortal kombat #subscorp #subscorpweek #kuai liang #sub zero #hanzo hasashi #scorpion #🔥❄️subscorp week 2023

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candyskiez · 1 year ago

Text

btw I'm sorry if I'm really mood swingy or sensitive lately I'm kinda at a very low point and vaguely emotionally unstable lmao. idk when I'll feel better, hopefully soon, sorry in advance for being ill on main 😭

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cursestothemoon · 3 years ago

Note

Thank you for answering!

So what about Fred with an s/o (any pronouns are fine) that grew up in a very agressive household (lots of yelling and fighting between the parents. Basically they grew up with emotionally unstable adults) and are sensitive to anything that might come off as even a little annoyed (if you've ever had someone angrily fold laundry in your direction you know how I feel lmao) Lets say fred has noticed this but decided not to say anything because its only been little, small-scale reactions. But this time, he has had a very bad day, and comes home from whatever he was doing, and when his s/o comes up to greet him, he slams the door and greets them back (but its like, in an agressive tone??? Like, kindof sarcastic if you know what i mean??) and his s/o kindof staggers back and stares at him wide-eyed, almost defensively, and starts tearing up+hyperventilating because he's never done this before. After he calms them down enough for them to talk they tell him that he scared them with the loud noise and the anger and annoyance in his voice. You can decide what happens after that💖💖

Goodness sorry for how long this ask is-

first off you do not need to apologies for how long asks are

second, thank you for the request 😌

warnings: mentions parents fighting, yelling, being frustrated, being overwhelmed, hyperventilating, basically everything in the ask, also this is unedited so im sorry for any mistakes

also also

this is rather short im sorry but thank you so much for the request!

Fred Weasley x Reader

With Gentle Hands

The day had started out just as any other. Fred woke up to repetitive ring of his alarm clock, a small black muggle clock gifted to him by Hermione only a few years back. He was quick to reach over and silence it before stretching his long limbs, his right arm shot out without much caution, it was his left that he slowly moved careful not to hit your sleeping body beside him.

Fred turned to look at you, just as he did every morning, as you lay peacefully beside him. His body moved before his mind could argue, long arms wrapping around your warm body as he nuzzled his nose into your hair. He would drown in everything that is you; your scent, your warmth, anything if he could.

That is how most days start, Fred silencing his alarm, wrapping his arms around you for a few minutes longer as he contemplates ringing up George and telling him something came up, he was ill, any excuse he could thing of quickly just so he could stay in bed with you all day. Then, with a soft groan, he'd slowly peel himself away from you, your soft whines of 'stay' and 'Freddie' doing nothing to convince him to leave. The bathroom tiles were cold, as usual, and he couldn't stop the toothpaste from dripping down his chin before finishing up and getting dressed, and as usual he was off with a soft, "Have a good day at work, Freddie" from you.

That was the end of normalcy for the day, once Fred had made it to work it seemed there was a shift. Just as he walked through the doors to the shop, George was there giving him a look.

"Your late."

It was that comment that through the twins into a minor quarrel, Fred arguing that being a few minutes late to his own business wasn't as big of a deal as George was making it out to be, and George complained that Fred was slacking off.

The rest of the work day had the two brothers at each others throat, all though it was mostly passive aggressively. It seemed to snowball from there. Costumers had been coming in with an attitude all day, bratty little kids breaking items or throwing tantrums, parents arguing whether or not they had to pay for merchandise broken by their kids. By the time Fred was able to flick his wand and have the 'open' banner transfigure into one that read CLOSED in big red letters, he was sure his head was going to explode.

Fred was always the type to feel his emotions, wear them openly for all to see, Molly could confirm. His frustration today was no different, and as he walked through the door of your shared flat his irritability was almost palpable.

"Hi, Fred, how was work?" Your voice was welcoming, the first thing he heard as he opened the door and it would've calmed him down, only the mention of work had him fuming once again.

You flinched as you heard the front door slam shut, an annoyed 'Hi' being muttered afterwards. The knife in your hand started to visibly tremble next to the carrots you had been chopping, before you decided to set it down on the cutting board and collect yourself.

Fred's footsteps were heavy as he walked into the kitchen, making your heart rate pick up.

It's just Fred

You know him

It's just Freddie

"You ok, Freddie?" You muttered out carefully.

He let out a humorless chuckle as he opened the fridge, "Perfect."

The sarcasm in his tone had you inwardly shrinking. You watched as he eyed the firewhiskey, the bottle sitting towards the back of the fridge to keep it perfectly chilled. Fred failed to notice the breath you let out when he wrapped his hand around a bottle of water instead. The calm was short lived, however, your shoulders tensing once more as Fred slammed the door to the refrigerator shut.

"Fuck!" He shouted, the loudest he's ever shouted in front of you.

Suddenly, you felt small, your legs felt wobbly, pins and needles ran up your spine, and you were sure if you could feel your hands you'd feel them shaking.

You knew the man standing in front of you was Fred, his same broad shoulders that you loved to run your hands across, the same freckles crawling up the nape of his neck that you've trailed kisses along countless times, and you knew that there wasn't anything you had done that would cause this reaction, so logically he couldn't be this mad at you. But the tightening of your chest, the quickening of your breath had Fred morphing in front of your very eyes, your father looked back at you with anger behind his dark eyes.

The sight made you turn away from the man in your kitchen quickly, hands going to grab the sides of the counter making your knuckles turn white.

Fred paused his ranting, noticing you had abruptly turned your back on him.

"Y/n?" His voice calmed.

"I'm sorry." You rushed out, turning to look at him again.

The first thing he noticed were your eyes, wide and frantic, almost prey like as if you were watching for an approaching predator.

Fred raised his hands, palms out, to show you he meant no harm, "Hey, hey," he cooed. "It's alright, love, you're ok, breathe."

You looked completely terrified of him as he neared you slowly and it was starting to break his already crumbling reserve. He grabbed your hand gently, only for your to pull back and sink down to the floor as you started to hyperventilate.

It felt as though you were hyperaware of the emotions floating around the room, Fred's watering eyes, the trembling in your hands, and it was all starting to freak you out.

"Just- just give me a second." You requested shakily.

Fred nodded, "Alright, love, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I scared you, I shouldn't have been so loud or slammed the doors an-"

You cut off Fred's rambling with a rushed, "I can't breathe." Before you pushed yourself up from the floor and made your way to the shared bedroom quickly.

The door shut just as Fred neared and he felt the wind get knocked out of him at the sight.

You were overwhelmed, that much was clear, and Fred kicked himself for not being more mindful of how you were receiving his temper tantrum, but how could he have known it would effect you in such a way.

Sure he knew you weren't the biggest fan of loud sounds, yelling made your face go pale, and you were always keen on avoiding conflict.

---

An hour and a half had passed before you slowly opened your bedroom door having calmed down only slightly. Fred was sitting on the floor, back against the wall next to the door as you crouched down next to him.

"I need you to hold me, Freddie, please." You sniffled.

Your voice was quiet, shaky, and unsure making Fred tread lightly as he nodded. He opened his arms, allowing you to find a space for yourself on his lap with your cheek against his chest. You let out a sigh as you felt his hand come up to cradle your head to his chest, his thumb running over your jaw lightly.

It was in his arms, on the floor, that your breathing started to steady; it was his slow reassurances of 'you're ok' and 'I've got you' that stopped the shaking in your hands.

Slowly you bared your heart to your loving boyfriend. You told him of the house you grew up in, the constant fights between your parents, how nothing was spared from you adolescent ears.

Fred sat there with gentle hands seemingly holding you together as you told him of the yelling, screaming, and the hiding in the wardrobe when it got really bad. He asked how he could help, what he could do to make you feel better when things took a turn for the worst like they did today.

It was with gentle hands that Fred carried your sleeping body into the bedroom, tucking you in carefully before climbing in himself and holding you close to his body, his palm carefully holding the column of your neck feeling the faint drum of your pulse against his fingertips.

Taglist:

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@erinruby003

@famdomhideout

@an2402lths

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@therealhouseelvesofhogwarts

@onlyfreds

@onyourgoddamnleft

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #harry potter imagines #fred weasley blurb #fred weasley x reader

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jade-marie · 4 years ago

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I didn't watch episode 4 but I saw gifs of Beth yelling at Jane and it got me thinking, what's your view on the Boland kids not being parented?

Lmao you love getting me in trouble🤣

Sorry. It got long but I could rant about this for weeks.

Pre canon and S1

Obviously, we don’t see anything pre canon when it comes to the Boland kids, but you can put together an idea of what their situation was like from the first few episodes. Beth was a SAHM - she made them fancy packed lunches for school, had them enrolled in extra curricular activities, dropped them off/picked them up from school, put them to bed, got them ready etc. She was the main caregiver and Dean was at work. When he came home, he got to be the fun dad.

It seems like they had a decent amount of structure, as far as schedules go, but they’ve never been given any responsibility and didn’t appear to be well disciplined. We had Kenny telling Beth she sucked at math in s1 - something I certainly wouldn’t have gotten away with. Anyway, they had a decent amount of structure and stability, they were used to things being a certain way and that was all disrupted when Dean was kicked out of the house. Then suddenly, Dean was back, but he was sharing a bedroom with Kenny. It doesn’t seem like any of this was really explained to the kids properly or that they were helped through the process, which can have some knock-on effects.

Throughout Season 2

First episode of S2, Dean was shot. The kids were told that he was mugged and were, understandably, shaken up by the whole thing. Once again, nobody truly comforted or helped them through this process and we started to see the fallout of that. Kenny essentially developed an eating disorder and started bingeing, Jane “ran away from home”. But again, nothing is done about it. Beth says they need to be more present, no phones at dinner, they look into a child therapist, but we don’t ever hear about the kids actually getting therapy even though they desperately need it.

Throughout the season, the structure that they still had in S1 rapidly disappears. It goes from Beth being the main caregiver to her handing the reigns over to Dean in 2.05 and he doesn’t do a good job of it. The house becomes a mess, the kids run wild. This would be a perfect opportunity to start giving the older children some chores, helping to re-introduce structure, but it doesn’t happen. From the kids perspectives, they would notice their mother becoming more and more absent from their lives, missing dance recitals, coming home late, missing dinner, missing bedtime and so Dean is becoming the consistent parent (important for later).

Dean decides to weaponise the children, taking them away from Beth and going to stay with his mother for a while, before going back home. Beth and Dean tell the kids that they’re going to be getting a divorce, obviously that doesn’t happen, again creating quite an unstable environment for them. Effectively, they have a roof over their heads and they’re being fed/clothed, but nobody is actually parenting them.

Throughout Season 3

At the beginning of S3, with the dealership gone and Beth no longer working for Rio, they have significantly less money. It’s not clear how much of a knock-on effect this had on their extra curricular activities because Jane still has her piano lessons and Kenny has hockey. Beth’s taking them to the park a lot, it’s also not clear whether this is simply because she’s stalking Rhea and Marcus or genuinely because the park is a free activity for them. Regardless, they’ve been going to the park enough that it’s no longer fun. The kids really don’t seem to have any structure anymore and, once again, it doesn’t seem like they’ve been receiving any emotional support during what would be a challenging time for any child.

Dean has gone back to work, Beth is now also working, so Judith steps in to help take care of the kids. She takes things a little bit far, which pisses off Beth, so Judith is quickly removed from the equation. Again - instability. Then we have the fallout between Rhea and Beth, which means Jane can no longer play with her best friend Marcus for (at least from her perspective) absolutely no reason. Again – instability. Fast forward a few weeks, the entire house is emptied so the kids have to go and stay with Judith for an unspecified amount of time. Again – instability. We can play the blame game to decide who is the cause of this instability, but it’s pretty irrelevant. The fact is, the kids lives are being shaken up and nobody is helping them through it.

Beth buys new furniture, the kids come home, it all seems great, and then Dean gets arrested. So now their dad ,who has been the more consistent parent in their lives for the last year, is out of the picture. Once again, nobody is really offering them support during this time. We see Jane asking for her dad, we see the kids talking about how Dean lets them eat by the TV, because they’re missing things which have been consistent for them, and then we finally get to Janes little stand-off with Beth over the remote control.

That is quite clearly the result of her emotional needs going unmet for God knows how long, so she’s acting like a brat. Instead of taking care of and supporting her child, Beth lashes out. I find the editing choice to mute the yelling and playing music over the scene annoying, because it lightens it quite a bit. It’s pretty obvious that Beth was wildly over reacting to the situation, because she was lashing out at a child over things that had nothing to do with Jane. She was stressed about Dean, she was stressed about Fitzpatrick‘s upcoming murder and taking that out on a kid. Yeah, she felt bad and gave her a hug after, but you’ve still got 3/4 kids (is Kenny coming back??) who’ve been emotionally neglected for at least a year.

Beth’s kids compared to Annie/Ben

We don’t really see a lot of Ben‘s relationship with Greg, it doesn’t seem like he’s a particularly bad parent in any way, Nancy is probably a bit neurotic, but nothing major. Annie, is pretty emotionally stunted and immature, she puts way too much responsibility on Ben, so it’s the complete opposite of Beth. Ben is effectively the grown-up in their relationship, he leaves reminders for his mother to make sure shit gets dealt with and any structure Ben has is structure he’s created for himself.

But at the same time, he trusts his mother and when something is bothering him he actually talks to her. We saw him come out to Annie before Greg and Nancy, he told Annie when he was being bullied. As he gets older, you can see him growing tired of parenting his mother, but I think she’s learning from her mistakes by recognising the way they’ve impacted her son. I think it’s also important to remember that Ben has been largely unaffected by Annies criminal activities, this is predominantly because she has a shitload of baggage to deal with.

Beth’s kids compared to Ruby and her kids

As a whole, Ruby‘s kids have been relatively unaffected by her criminal activities. It doesn’t look like they ever had a rigourous schedule of extracurricular activities, but they’ve always had a stable home life. Not financially well off, but happy. We’ve always seen them be respectful, they have boundaries with their parents, they don’t particularly misbehave etc. They just appear to be good kids with good parents. They witnessed Stan being arrested and Sara especially took that quite hard, but she was supported through it. It’s also quite clear that she’s had a good emotional support system throughout her illness and kidney transplant. When she found out that Ruby was up to something shady in S3 and their relationship became strained as a result, she spoke to her mother in a way which was disrespectful, eventually that behaviour was checked. Because Ruby and Stan parent their children.

Beth’s kids compared to Rio/Marcus

From the very first time we were introduced to Marcus, we’ve seen that he’s very polite, very well-balanced and has a good relationship with his dad. We’ve seen Rio patiently instil important lessons in his son, such as cleaning up his messes, being patient and waiting his turn - things which Beth’s kids still don’t understand.

For the most part, Marcus seems to be pretty well shielded from Rio’s criminal activities, which is why I think Marcus was so heavily affected by his dads absence in S3. But, unlike the Boland children, he was emotionally supported through the process by his mother. He went to her for comfort and he received it. When Rio isn’t around, Rhea appears to pick up the slack and ensure Marcus still has some stability.

I think they’ve deliberately contrasted Beth’s kids with the other children on the show. Her children are the only ones who seem to be truly feeling the effects of choices she’s made during the course of the series. She claims to be doing all of this for her kids, but is completely ignorant to the fact that her choices are hurting them. This isn’t me bashing her character or saying she’s a shitty mom because I don’t like her, this is just stating what’s happening on the screen and right now, whether or not it’s deliberate, she’s being a shitty parent. Dean has always been a shitty parent. So now those kids don’t have anyone😕

#tl;dr #boland kids have shitty parents and it’s showing #good girls nbc #rio good girls #beth boland #ruby hill #annie marks

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wildwcmen · 4 years ago

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basic information ( SPOTIFY + PINTEREST )

Full Name: Sunshine Love Weaver

Nickname(s): Sunny

Age: 25-28

Date of Birth: December 15th

Hometown: Southern United States

Ethnicity: White

Nationality: American

Gender: Demigirl/Genderfluid

Pronouns: She/Her & They/Them, but basically any pronouns work

Religion: Pagan

Occupation: Online pet psychic, helps out at her mother’s animal sanctuary

Language(s) Spoken: English, limited Tagalog

Accent: Southern Drawl

physical appearance

Face Claim: Billie Lourd

Hair Colour: Blonde

Eye Colour: Chocolate brown

Height: 5′1

Weight: 117 lbs

Build: Petite

Tattoos: this, this, this.

Piercings: Ears, had a nose piercing but it has since closed up.

Clothing Style: Bohemian style

Usual Expression: She is almost always smiling/laughing, even when there is seemingly nothing to smile about.

Distinguishing Characteristics: Gummy smile.

health

Sleeping Habits: She’s an early riser, wanting to have time to take care of the animals, meditate, go on a walk, etc. She will sometimes rise early and then nap in the afternoons. She loves outdoor naps.

Eating Habits: Vegetarian; usually makes her own food or has her mothers cook for her. She is spoiled with good vegetarian food, fresh eggs from the chickens, etc.

Exercise Habits: Most of her exercise comes from walks in the woods.

Emotional Stability: 6.5/10, generally quite stable but does have high levels of anxiety occasionally.

Sociability: Very sociable and friendly, seeks out social experiences even if they sometimes make her anxious.

Drug Use: Has tried cannabis, does not like it. It makes her anxious. Occasionally does a shroom trip for “spiritual enlightenment”, usually once per year or less.

Alcohol Use: Occasionally, socially.

personality

Label: Coming soon

Positive Traits: existential, forgiving, caretaker, deep.

Negative Traits: detached, overly protective of loved ones/her animals, anxious

Fears: Afraid of fear itself (the physical sensatations of her anxiety, etc.)

Hobbies: Tarot reading, walking, gardening, flower picking, making flower crowns, crafts, making her own tea blends, traveling, spending time with her animals, talking to her animals, singing, songwriting, ASMR.

Habits: Talking to animals/inanimate objects, playing with her hair, late night snacking

favourites

Weather: Sunny weather, of course!!

Colour: Brown, white

Music: Mamas and Papas, Fleetwood Mac, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Grateful Dead, The Beatles.

Movies: Across The Universe

Sport: N/A

Beverage: Lavender rose black tea

Food: vegetarian lasagna

Animal: Horses, doves, tortoise

family

Mom1: Ava Weaver (most often referred to as mom) (biological mom)

Mom2: Andrea Weaver (maiden name: Andrea Ramos) (most often referred to as ma)

Sperm Donor: Tyler Koch. She does have a relationship with her donor, as he is a family friend. He is generally viewed as an uncle.

Sibling(s): Two younger adopted siblings (Storm & Paisley)

Pet(s): Impossible to count all of the family pets, tbh. Some of the notable ones are their tortoise (age 55), at least three rescue dogs, four cats to keep the mice away, horses, chickens, geese, donkeys, pigs, etc. I will name them all eventually. Please keep in mind that their sanctuary is a barnyard sanctuary, this is not some Tiger Kings shit lmao.

Family’s Financial Status: They live off the grid/sustainably, so it’s very hard for me to pin point their status tbh.

extra

Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius Sun, Capricorn Rising, Scorpio Moon

MBTI: XNFP

Enneagram: The Mediator

Temperament: Phlegmatic

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Moral Alignment: Lawful Good, sometimes leans towards chaotic good

Primary Vice: Charity

Primary Virtue: Envy

Element: Earth/Water

flaws

strengths

skills & hobbies

human verse

Sunshine's mothers surrounded her with love and care always. She grew up on an animal sanctuary, was home schooled, and was raised pagan. In spite of her home schooling she was always very social, making friends with neighbors and anyone else who would chat with her. She felt an especially close connection to animals, and in her teenage years began working as a pet psychic online. This career was carried into her adulthood. Sunshine is loving, caring, and a bit erratic.

#sunshine stats #too excited to write her again i had to do her stats next sodijfsdoijf #my baby #i actually can't believe i didn't have stats for her already ??? my actual CHILD

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shibichubi · 4 years ago

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My thoughts on Spn s15e18

Spoilers ahead!

I am devastated, and also kind of happy, idk how to say this hsjdjs also very sorry for all the grammar mistakes I am very emotionally unstable and English it's not my first language! Please be patient and kind to me!

There's two reasons of why I'm mainly very sad;

•The show itself, we got the love confession we were always asking for, and the fact that it was such a well written and beautiful one made me (and even my sister who doesn't watch supernatural) cry, the moment castiel said that the only way to defeat death was the empty I knew what was coming, I had to pause the episode and full on started crying and shaking while my sister was like "wft it's wrong with this one". Castiel told Dean all the reasons that he loved him, he told him that because of Him he was able to care for the world. I saw other tumblr user say that the reason the confession was so unique and heart breaking it's because Cas loved Dean for what he was as a person, even tho Dean hated and despised himself, Cas was able to look beyond that and love him for all the love Dean had given to the world. And it struck Dean like lighting, because not only Cas knew all his deep hatred for himself and still decided to stay, but also because people had only loved Dean for the way he looked, and for how useful he was. But going to the why im sad part, it's because it may be the last time we saw Cas on the show, and even tho he died happy because he was sacrificing himself for someone he loved, it's makes me so sad that he may don't get the happy ending we all wanted for him.

•The public's reaction; I couldn't believe Cas had finally said "I love you" without the writers trying to pass it off as a "ily but no homo bro haha", and even tho I was crying my heart out deep down I was so happy he finally did it!! And so I went here to share my happiness with the rest of the fandom and I found a lot of people saying that Dean/jensen was homophobic, that this was a "Bury your gays" trope, that the fans who had been waiting years for this so happened had no right on being happy because it was the most homophobic way of coming out, etc. And I got even sadder, it okay if you didn't like the way the writers handled the confession, but it's only okay if you are a fan and have been watching the show all these years. It's not okay to critique someone's happiness over something you haven't even watched just because you like to be mean. The confession was very in character for both of them, we always knew it was going to be Cas if it became cannon, we also knew that Dean wouldn't be able to reply before it was too late because of the way he handles his feelings and emotions. So yeah, Dean got so shocked he couldn't even cry, and Dean didn't reply, but you know why? Because the character, during the whole series, wasn't able to explicitly tell the other how he was feeling, the only character who he would occasionally open up being his brother, so don't try and tell me that just because Dean wasn't able to say it back it means that he doesn't love him, there's a monumental group of scenes in which Dean says it back without being explicit.

There's others part of the public saying it was all platonic, and that makes me wanna go back to sleep forever. The whole episode was about losing your loved one, in the romantic way. We opened up with Charlie witnessing the "death" of his girlfriend, by the middle of the ep Sam lost Eileen, his girlfriend. And we closed up with Dean losing Castiel, who just had confessed his love for Dean, so don't try to tell me it was all platonic because I will punch you.

Anyways, if anyone actually read this lmao you are very welcome to share your opinion and why you though the confession was good/bad!

Now excuse me I'm going back to sleep because my head hurts from all the crying I did yesterday hshshs

#supernatural #destiel #spnfandom #spn s15 #castiel #dean winchester

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constantlyscreaminghere · 6 years ago

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1. Yes I’m wearing the same clothes I’m very emotionally unstable lately and these are my newest comfort 2. I won’t actually get into this show I’m just interested in this cutie lmao

(if you ship minorxadult/grody ships don’t interact)

#my new art tag #3below #stuart #3below stuart #draw your faves in your clothes

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amphtaminedreams · 6 years ago

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Mental Health Awareness Week: My Story

Hi to anyone who’s reading this!

My name is Lauren and this is my first personal post on my Tumblr (which I’m using because I am a granny who can’t be arsed to work out the basics of Wordpress). My intention in making this blog was ultimately to talk about mental health and fashion and things that interest me and I suppose I knew that ultimately I was going to make a post like this but I just didn’t realise it would be so soon. But then Theresa May lit up Downing Street and it was Mental Health Awareness week and Borderline Personality Disorder Awareness month and I realised, best to just get this out of the way before I can start making excuses to put it off until the end of time. It’s a hard post to make because I don’t exactly know who the audience will be; I’m writing it for the mental health community and anybody who’s interested in what Borderline Personality Disorder is/looks like but I’m also conscious of the fact that one day my family and friends and even potential employers could be reading this. How much detail am I supposed to go into? A lot of people still feel uncomfortable discussing topics like this; they start seeing you a different way when they know you suffer from a mental illness, even though you’re the same person you’ve always been. It’s also hard to know where to start when I’m talking about my mental health. I feel like other posts of a similar nature tend to have a clear start, beginning, and end. A clear cause or inciting incident, one self-explanatory, well-understood diagnosis, and a clear pathway to recovery. I don’t have a single, defining trauma I can pinpoint anything to, and I don’t think I have complex PTSD (which is often conflated with BPD but as I understand it, not always the same thing). I have a family history of mental illness and a series of less significant events that in hindsight might have affected me more than I originally thought, but until I became able to think about concepts such as “mental health” and self-image and relationships in the abstract, I believed that I generally had a pretty happy childhood. My family did their very best and they loved me and we always had a roof over our heads and food on our plates. When I did start to conceptualise my mental health, I kind of thought of it as a wave of depression and insecurities and anxieties that hit me when I was in my early teens. I think this is the same for a lot of people. Only when I got a diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder (which I will shorten to BPD for the purpose of making this easier to read, lol!) in October 2018 did I question that.

I’ve done a lot of questioning since I got the diagnosis, the same kind of questions that make this post hard to write. Am I really that ill? Am I not just being dramatic? Do I have any right to feel like this given the privilege I have? When in reality, this deep-rooted gut instinct to doubt who you are and what you have a right to feel is an intrinsic part of BPD.

There are 9 key symptoms involved in the disorder, 5 of which must be experienced to a degree that is severe enough to affect your day to day functioning in order to receive a diagnosis. My formal assessment which took place during my stay at an inpatient psychiatric ward in October 2018 revealed I was just on the cusp of receiving a diagnosis; in 5 of the 9 categories I scored highly enough that the symptom was impairing my ability to function, thus I only just qualified (lucky me!). That’s what mental illness is really, a collection of ingrained and/or inherited behaviours that are inhibiting one’s day to day life. With regards to BPD, these 9 behaviours or symptoms are as follows:

1. Fear of abandonment (check).

2. Unstable relationships.

3. Unclear or shifting self-image (check).

4. Impulsive, self-destructive behaviours (check).

5. Self-harm (check).

6. Extreme emotional swings (check).

7. Explosive anger.

8. Dissociative experiences (check).

9. Chronic feelings of emptiness (check, check, CHECK).

See, when the diagnosis was first suggested to me informally by a community mental health nurse in June of 2018, I was a bit like…what?! That can’t be me! I don’t have outbursts (it’s okay if you do and you’re working on it)! I don’t scream and throw things (again, okay if you do and are working on it)! And I’m definitely not manipulative (any person can be manipulative so I don’t even know where this one comes from)! That was, like, all I knew about BPD. Stereotypes. Think Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction type bullshit, we’re talking the woman that coined the phrase bunny boiler. I didn’t know that BPD can present in a million different ways, based on the person who’s suffering with it, because I thought BPD was the person. The widespread consensus on BPD isn’t the most humanising. So I hope me explaining how it’s affected my life and the way its presented itself over the years helps in turning the tide, which so many amazing people have already begun to do by sharing their stories. My aim is to do the same.

I’ve had a lot of time to think about the areas in which BPD has affected my life since my formal assessment, in which I felt I learnt a lot more about the disorder. In particular, the idea that I was always this happy child that got hit by a wave of inexplicable, crippling depression once I hit my teenage years. I remember during the assessment, the doctor asking me to talk about my early relationships and it kind of struck me at that moment that I’d been going through this pattern of switching between extreme attachment towards versus extreme devaluation of my relationships with the closest people in my life for as long as I could remember. My first real best friend of several years basically stopped speaking to me (and in hindsight, I do not blame her, lmao!) when we were about 12 because I can only imagine she was sick of me either picking a fight or desperately seeking her reassurance every time she dared to hang out with another friend. I remembered how it felt when she did choose to spend time with somebody else rather than me: “oh my god, she likes them more, she finds me boring, she hates me and she doesn’t want to be friends with me anymore! Everything’s over! I’ll never find anyone who loves me like she does because why would they? I can’t go on with my life until I know that she isn’t going to leave me!”. I think at that age, everyone has that shrill inner voice that doesn’t exactly consider logic or react in the most sensible way, but instead of my shrill inner voice going away, it just faded to more of a constantly niggling monotone that continued to affect the way I behaved around other people for years to come. This was just one of the signs that things weren’t as they should be from an early age. I think I was around 13 when the Child Adolescent Mental Health Services (otherwise known as the dreaded CAMHS), whom my parents had initially got me referred to for sleeping problems, diagnosed me with generalised anxiety and social phobia. Social phobia, despite this being its DSM name, is more commonly known as social anxiety. This came about after I had undergone successful CBT for said sleeping problems and thought I’d just drop it in, as you do, that basically, every social interaction felt like I was putting on a desperate show to keep the few remaining people left in the theatre from walking out. I told them that school was emotionally exhausting me. Whilst after the first couple of rocky years of transitioning from primary to secondary school I had developed a close group of friends, I still felt like aside from the closet few of them, absolutely nobody liked me. That was definitely true of some people, but likely not to the extent I envisioned it. I had come to feel, I suspect due to a combination of genes and a few environmental factors, like I was inherently unloveable and annoying, and even though I’m in a good place right now, these are things I continue to struggle with. When you’ve believed these things for so long, to act according to them is second nature.

The thing about BPD is that it’s hard to determine what is a co-morbidity and what is part of The Disorder™. I’m still not quite sure whether my social anxiety was in and of its own issue or if it was driven by the borderline symptom of fearing abandonment. Even recently, during a period of relative stability, I went back to my GP about dysmorphic thoughts concerning my body and appearance as I believe they go beyond the threshold of what is to be expected as part the unstable self-image facet of BPD. Whilst I can accept, for example, that the self-harming and binge eating I began indulging in around the same time I received my anxiety diagnoses were my way of coping with the mood swings and chronic feelings of emptiness I was also experiencing (get me working in the checklist of symptoms here, I imagine this is how film writers feel when they namedrop the movie in the characters’ dialogue), I have a feeling the image issues I have would exist regardless of the influence of the unstable self-image part of BPD. I mean, would perfectionism alone take me to the extremes of punishing myself for missing out on all A*s by an A or two at GCSE and A-level, forcing myself to do a degree I had no particular interest in just because the university was in the single digits in the international league tables, or at one point eating only apples for 10 days until I could barely stand up because I wanted to look like those girls on 2013 emo black and white Tumblr? Probably not. But you don’t need to have an unstable self-image to latch onto the idea that only the very best will do in today’s world, lol (typed with a totally straight face)! Yeah, if the niche that is socialist twitter has taught me anything it’s that, that’s like, late-stage capitalism for you. It’s hard to look at myself and know what is a good quality, or just a character trait, and what is disordered. I think when you call a mental illness a personality disorder, the people who are labelled with it are inevitably going to have that problem.

Surprising absolutely no-one, trying to fit into these ideals I had created and emotionally detaching myself from my friends and family didn’t do any good for my wellbeing. I gave into self-destructive impulses with increased frequency and as I went into sixth form and drifted even further away from the few people I did feel close to, I began to experience derealisation (not depersonalisation, though this is something a lot of people with BPD do experience). This would come under the dissociative experiences symptom of the BPD. It was like my eyes were glass windows and I was just watching life unfold in front of me from the other side. It’s not as if I didn’t have control of my actions, I did, I threw myself into revision, but it all just felt slightly unreal, like I was going through the motions, almost robotically, detached from everyone around me. Everything was muted. Generally, I find that my mood swings between 5 different states: lethargic depression, extreme distress, anxious irritability, an almost mania like sense of confidence and purpose, and a more pleasant calmness. The best way to explain how I experience this switch is that I can almost physically feel the gear of my brain shift, with this change of energy then flowing down to the rest of my body. My thoughts take on a different tone of voice, my body feels heavier, or if I’m going up, it’s like I can feel electricity running and crackling through me. It can happen in a split second, and it can be random, though often it’s triggered by something as small as a phone call or how much I’ve eaten. If multiple plans fall apart at the same time, it can be enough to make me angry at the world and distrustful of everyone in my life, closed off and weighed down. However, back when I was experiencing this derealisation, I remember only really switching back and forth between feeling numb and feeling passively suicidal; I feel like I lost my teenage years to this big, grey cloud of meh-ness that fogged up my brain and obfuscated my ability to regularly feel any positive emotion. To use a cliche, there was this void inside of me that nothing would fill and I had learnt that trying to use relationships to do this was dangerous for me because without sounding melodramatic, it hurt too much when I felt they weren’t reciprocating my love (what a John Green line, lmao).

My fear that people didn’t like me morphed into paranoia that even the people I was supposed to be friends with were ridiculing me the second I left the room; please don’t laugh when I say my greatest pleasure during this time was to go home at lunchtime to avoid having to spend an hour sat with them so I could eat Dairy Milk Oreo, nap and listen to The Neighbourhood (careful, don’t cut yourself on that edge!). I put on a lot of weight due to binge eating, would often leave sixth form early or skip it altogether, and saw my GP, who reestablished my anxiety diagnoses now with an exotic side order of depression. When it comes to NHS services where I live, I’ve kind of won the postcode lottery. There’s a large, conservative elderly population which I’m assuming is the reason our area receives a lot more funding than other, debatably more deserving other areas, and this meant that along with prescribing me the first of many SSRIs I was to try, I was also referred back to CAMHS. I’d been discharged from them about 2 years prior, and what had back then been about a 1 or 2-month waiting list to be seen had doubled in longevity since. I say I won the postcode lottery because, in a lot of places, it’s not uncommon for people to still be waiting to be seen by their local mental health team over a year after they’re first referred. Even so, the help I was offered was very minimal; I met a counsellor once every couple of months that didn’t really specialise in any particular kind of therapy and would kind of just talk at me for the hour I saw her. This was in spite of me expressing suicidal feelings and regularly self-harming.

That being said, by the time I left sixth form, I had finally found an SSRI that worked to blunt the intensity of my social anxiety. I was attending my “perfect” university with my “perfect” grades and (prepare yourself for the twist of the century) I finally managed to get my lazy arse to the gym, and get to that “perfect” weight. I was forming emotional connections with people for the first time in years. On a shallow level, in my first year of uni, things were finally beginning to look up, and yet I was experiencing worse mood swings than ever, becoming more dependent on drugs and alcohol to function through these, and throwing myself into intense friendships where anything less than utmost enthusiasm on the other end of the relationship would send me back into that “oh my god, I’ll never make another friend in my life, I’ll always be alone, I can’t deal with this, the only way to deal with this pain is to end it!” mode. I don’t know why things got so drastic so suddenly. Maybe it was being away from my parents, or maybe it’s just that late teens/early twenties are a time when negative emotions do tend to get more serious after being repressed for years and consequently accumulating. The whole having to be the smartest person in the room to maintain a sense of self shtick was also taking a bit of a hit because university is bloody hard and everyone’s bloody smart and bloody passionate and here I was not even understanding what the assigned reading was trying to say let alone having any brilliant ideas about it to contribute; I was so quiet in one of my seminar groups the lecturer forgot I existed in a class with a grand total of 9 students. Big fish in a little pond to little fish in a big pond syndrome or maybe just more simply put, imposter syndrome, is a real thing and when you struggle with your identity anyway, it’s enough to throw you off completely. I finished that year with a first but I told myself it probably wouldn’t happen again. A couple of days later, feeling shit and overwhelmed, I did what I’d taken to doing to manage my emotions, and got high. The delusional episode ended me up in A&E for self-harm, and when they let me go the next day, I travelled back to my family home and pretended nothing was wrong.

The whole “act like everything’s fine” approach doesn’t work in the long term. 10/10 would not recommend. Without my parents around, when I went back to uni in September, everything fell apart again. I was using drugs every day, either not eating at all or binge eating, self-harming, binge drinking regularly, skipping all my lectures. Honestly, when I think back to that time it’s like I’m watching myself from outside my body. I was feeling very done with the dumpster fire (how very American of me) that was my brain. I was done with the constant 100mph up and down internal monologue. I was done with trying to cope and to hold myself together. I intentionally overdosed multiple times and after one sent me to A&E, my dad brought me home from university. It was a horrible shock for my parents: they knew I was a worrier that could be a little closed off and miserable sometimes, and they were the ones who’d first taken me to CAMHS when I was younger, but they’d struggled with that, and so from then on I’d tried to keep my issues to myself. To be honest, I don’t blame them at all for not realising anything was drastically wrong. I did a pretty good job of hiding my problems; everyone had their own things to deal with and so I became quite adept at internalising my feelings and acting “inwards” rather than outwards. It was also definitely a case of things escalating whilst I was away. With all this in mind, the overdose kind of came out of nowhere for them, but I was so detached from reality I didn’t even consider this at the time. Thankfully, I can’t really remember how they actually reacted either. Benzodiazepines do that to you, a little tidbit of information that all these teen rappers and social media personalities hyping up Xanax fail to mention. I think my dad made the decision to bring me home rather than have me stay in hospital in London, as was offered, because he thought that would be better for me. However, a few days later, after numerous, distressing visits from the crisis team (another name that will be regrettably familiar to anyone who has experienced severe mental health problems before), where I can only assume a lack of time and recourses on their part forced me to repeat what had happened over and over again to the revolving door of staff members, I took another overdose. I had become paranoid that they were out to get me and falsely believed that I was too much of a burden on my family, who were having to take time off work to look after me. This time from A&E, I went on to stay in a psychiatric ward where I was given the formal diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder I mentioned earlier. And it’s here that my life changed forever, I believe for the better.

It changed my life for many reasons. Firstly, it was incredibly validating. To learn that I didn’t have a plethora of different problems but rather one problem, the different facets of which can present themselves in many different ways and affect multiple areas of your life, was so, so reassuring. It not only gave me a clear treatment path but helped me to understand that there was a reason all this was happening. Additionally, the events forced me to open up to my parents and for them to grasp the severity of the situation. After all these years, I finally felt like I had a support system. My parents had always been there before but I had emotionally distanced myself from everyone, and being a “typical teenager” I believed they didn’t understand me (get that angst). I think in retrospect they didn’t understand me because I wasn’t using the right words. I didn’t want to sound dramatic so whenever I spoke to either of my parents about how I felt, I downplayed it a lot. My mum, who works so incredibly hard and has a lot on her plate herself, had a tough upbringing so her approach to me being miserable was pretty much telling me to be grateful for what I had. Had she known what I was really getting at, I know that she wouldn’t have reacted like this to what I was saying. The minute I got my diagnosis, she went out and bought every (mildly offensively titled) book on how to support someone with BPD out there and I learnt today has even been trying to bring an emphasis on mental health into her workplace! She is a wonderful person.

With all this being said, my main piece of advice for other people who are newly diagnosed with BPD or just suffering from any kind of mental health condition is to be brutally honest with the trusted people around you about what you’re dealing with. It will be uncomfortable but I can promise it’ll be worth it. With something like BPD, having a support system who know exactly what you’re dealing with, minus the vagueness and the bullshit, is so, so important. I say this because, despite Theresa’s green lights, neither she nor her party are doing much in the way of providing the funding for professional help. When I first came out of hospital, I had a lot of nights where I felt incredibly depressed, almost as depressed as I did before I went in. Prior to my family knowing about my BPD diagnosis, I would have dealt with these feelings in unhealthy ways but this time, I could go to my mum and stay with her and just cry it out until the feeling passed. That is also a useful sentiment to remember, that the feelings will pass. It’s in the nature of BPD to swing around, when I’m not experiencing a period of depression, and that’s something I find it helpful to remember. I personally really like the Youper app to track my moods because when I do get suicidal, feel anxious or wired, I have something to look at objectively to remind myself that I did feel like this before, in fact, I felt like this yesterday, but a few hours later I told the app I felt okay again. It also helps you to dissect your irrational thought processes and identify “thinking traps”. Meditation, ASMR and CBD are big parts of my life and stability, though I would recommend doing some research into the latter before trying it yourself.

On a less subjective, more physiological level, I notice that my medication really aids my emotional stability; when I have been off it, my mood swings are a lot more intense. So whilst medication isn’t for everyone, it can be something to consider talking to your GP about to see if it could be beneficial for you. Another help is the DBT skills course I completed in March, DBT being the abbreviation of dialectical behavioural therapy, the treatment specifically developed for BPD by Marsha Linehan. If you have time, she’s a great person to do some research into. She herself was diagnosed with what doctors called an “incurable” case of BPD yet she’s gone on to do the most incredible things and help so many people also suffering from the disorder. Not only did DBT provide me with a skill set of more functional coping mechanisms for both interpersonal insecurities and individual struggles, but I liked the fact that once a week I got to be with a group of people who really understood what I’m dealing with and didn’t judge. Even if you can’t find a DBT group, it’s worth checking to see if there are any mental health peer support groups in your area for this reason. I found that being around people who are dealing with similar issues helped me to see my own struggles more objectively; it reminds you that what you’re experiencing is not about you personally and that whilst you may feel isolated, you’re not. The world hasn’t got it out for you. It’s a condition that many people experience. In terms of the feelings of emptiness BPD causes, I have found that since my diagnosis, I’ve actually had more of a sense of purpose in life. On a practical level, having therapy along with a year out of uni and the presence of a constant support system has had me time to get back into writing properly. What I’ve found to be even more rewarding, however, is my participation in the online mental health community.

Something I wasn’t made aware of prior to my diagnosis was the amount of stigma there is still towards mental health issues, Borderline Personality Disorder especially. It really is one of the most demonised mental health issues in and outside of the healthcare system and that’s a hard fact to learn, because it’s a difficult enough condition to learn to manage already without knowing that there are people out there who think you’re a monster for it and are going to judge everything you do through a certain lens. Whilst we are a lot more accepting as a society of conditions like depression and anxiety, conditions such as bipolar, schizophrenia and personality disorders are still greatly misunderstood by wider society who have largely taken their understandings of these illnesses from ill-informed media portrayals and shallow, surface-level observations of a sufferer’s behaviour. I doubt the name “personality disorder” helps matters; it’s hardly the most flattering description of what we’re dealing with I’ve ever heard. I’ve found that even mental health professionals and other mental illness sufferers have a negative bias towards BPD. There’s a widespread view that we are dangerous, manipulative individuals who choose to be difficult and act erratically, that our behaviour is not “organic” like that produced by other mental health problems. I have no idea where the latter assumption comes from. Most experts on the condition tend to agree that the mood swings, impulsive, destructive behaviour, and irrational thinking originate in the hypothalamus and come from a faulty fight-flight response or other atypical brain structures; in other words, BPD has a biological basis. Whilst I agree that we can learn to change our coping mechanisms, the idea that they are as a result of anything other than pure desperation and mental anguish is incredibly puzzling and dehumanising. Simply looking the causes of the condition up online or doing a small amount of research from a credible source debunks all the common BPD stereotypes, yet people like to speak about it as if they know everything about the condition just because they’ve heard a few horror stories. There are nasty people in the world. Some of them have BPD, but that doesn’t mean everyone with BPD is a nasty person, and the bottom line is that most people suffering from Borderline Personality Disorder will hurt themselves before they hurt anyone else. We are so hypersensitive to any changes in our relationships in the first place that the last thing we want to do is damage them. When we say something feels like the end of the world, that’s because the emotional dysregulation part of BPD really makes it feel like it is. We’re not being dramatic or trying to get your attention. In fact, I can say for certain that despite feeling this way on a daily basis for about 7 years, I rarely actually voiced the sentiment. I still don’t. But I should be able to. To give the example of one person suffering from physical illness and one suffering from a mental illness, where both publicly talk about the pain they’re experiencing, why is only the latter of the two called an attention seeker? If the former tweeted about how much pain they were in, nobody would bat an eyelid. Why is this? When so many people experience mental health problems? When the gender who are typically expected by society to repress their feelings accounted for over 70% of suicide victims in the UK last year? It’s clear that keeping our feelings to ourselves and suffering in silence doesn’t do us any good, so why are so many so eager for us to continue doing so? I think being open about mental health simply needs to be normalised, and that once it is, hopefully, this sentiment will die out. I find that by being open about my mental health on social media (still quite selectively, I must admit! I can’t see myself making a post about BPD on Facebook any time soon!) has given me a sense of purpose because I do feel like I’m helping to normalise this kind of honesty. With regards to the stigma that surrounds BPD specifically, I feel that my presence online and my support of others helps to show that we’re just human beings who are struggling, not the awful mythos that surrounds us.

To finish, one of my main goals in my recovery is to be more compassionate to myself. BPD is a hard enough diagnosis to have without constantly internally doubting and questioning it. I find that as the months go by, I am feeling more and more stable, and this leads me to question if I was ever sick, especially since I only displayed 5/9 of the borderline traits in the first place, which meant that I only just met the diagnostic criteria. I don’t have psychotic rage or complete blackouts and tend to act inwards rather than outwards. I am what is considered within the mental health community to be a “quiet” borderline. I know theoretically that this doesn’t make my condition any less valid, but for this reason, part of me fears moving towards being “well”. Because if I’m well, then I feel like I’ve lost part of an already fragile identity. Of course, I’d rather not have BPD. But because I’ve been expressing symptoms for so long, I worry what’s left of me without it. At the same time, I fear going back to a place where my BPD is so severe that I have to go back to hospital. So really, it’s like you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. It’s a double-edged sword. Is that enough cliches? The thing that I wish more people could understand is that mental illness in itself is traumatic and that even when you’ve moved on, what you experienced will always be a part of you. You still need that support. I’m not going to lie, resisting the urge to indulge in old coping mechanisms and habits is hard, and whilst the sense of pride I feel every time I don’t, or every time I use responsibly something I’m used to abusing is rewarding, there are days where waiting for the need to use them to pass is very long and very hard. I need to stop telling myself that just because I am feeling better than I did, I don’t deserve that support anymore. I do. I still deserve compassion. I still deserve a safety net. I still deserve a sense of understanding from the people around me. I deserve all of it, as does everyone else. I also deserve to be proud of how far I’ve come already instead of berating myself for not having come far enough. As I write this I haven’t self-harmed in 169 days, have been at my current job for coming up to 6 months, have an interview for a psychology course at the uni I came to love in a week’s time. I’m finally somewhat healthily managing my weight for the first time in years! I have also decided that once I do return to university, my reason for being there is not contingent on me maintaining firsts; my mental health, and what I do with the degree is much more important. I would ultimately like to go into clinical psychology and do as much as I can in that area to help people going through similar issues. With the current state of the mental health (and healthcare, in general) system in the UK, it’s definitely easy to get disheartened that the services it provides will never be adequate due to funding issues. However, in the meantime, I think the more of us with lived experience that can get into mental health care, the better the service that eventually is provided can be. Every week I’m thinking of new things I’d like to research once I have the footing, epigenetic and intergenerational trauma and the use of psychedelics and the benefit of peer support groups. There’s always a way to turn the negative into a positive, even if it takes time to learn how to do so and I think after all these years, I’m finally getting the hang of it. If my brain has been a “dumpster fire” for the last however many years, then I don’t want to let the ashes go to waste. I’m going to make them into some really morbid confetti! As I sit here writing this, I can firmly say I am happier than I’ve ever been. Game of Thrones is pissing me off (might do a post how identity and attachment issues lead to a correlation between BPD and obsessive character fixations at some point because BOY has that been driven home to me this week!) but tomorrow I’m going to an ABBA party with uni friends, Yvie Oddly is smashing drag race, and my cat is lying next to me purring. It gets better. The hard days become less frequent and they get easier to cope with too; you can learn to ride the waves and find reasons to continue doing so, regardless of how tiring it might be sometimes.

My pipe dream for this time next year is that we have people in government who really care about the invisibly ill of this country. That Downing Street can do more than turn green. I hope that we get to see more realistic and sympathetic portrayals of BPD in the media that draw attention to the issue without glamourising or romanticising it and that we get more portrayals of queer, disabled and POC experiences of mental illness too as it’s not just skinny caucasian girls that deal with this shit! Most importantly, I also hope that I continue to flourish, and wish the same for everyone struggling with mental illness/any kind of turmoil. Anybody who reads this ’til the end, wow! Thank you! It was a bit of an essay but what do you expect coming from an ex-history student and wannabe author, lol! Please let me know if there is something you’d like to see me post about on this Tumblr, such as any specific BPD symptoms and how they might present, how I deal with social anxiety and body image, or even anything completed unrelated to mental health! God knows I love the sound of my own…prose? Is that the right word to use?

I hope you enjoyed reading!

Lauren x

#mentalhealthawareness #mentalhealth #borderline personality disorder #borderlne #bpd #bpdrecovery #social anxiety #socialphobia #bpdprobz #body dysmorphia #recovery #addiction

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sketchy-scribs-n-doods · 6 years ago

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YOU BET YOUR ASS I DO

BUCKLE THE FUCKLE UP

(sorry this is a bit late, school’s been a bit of a busy mess lately, ahhh)

The ‘cotton candy cutie Damien’ referred to here is from an AU I did some doodles for a while ago wherein Damien is the one who lost his mind in WKM instead of Will, while Celine and William came together to form a different version of Dark (generally called the Colonel or some variation thereof by most who drabble in this AU).

OKAY SO-

He goes by Dames, generally speaking, call him Damien to his face and your safety is forfeit

Only the Colonel can call him Damien, sometimes (the terrifying man is soft on the cotton candy murderer and everyone can tell even if saying so outright would probably guarantee them some form painful punishment)

Dames loves confectionery cake treats, things like cupcakes and cheesecake and chocolate cake and brownies, and things like marshmallows and cotton candy and milkshakes are all his favorite kinds of sweets

Less of a happy-go-lucky/what-the-fuck-is-death attitude like Wilford’s, more of a I’m-soft-and-I-care-a-lot-about-everyone/If-you-even-look-at-my-loved-ones-wrong-I’ll-bash-your-head-in/wait-no-please-what’s-happened-I’m-sorry-I-didn’t-mean-to-please kinda terrifying whiplash attitude

Everything in shades of soft blue and creamy yellow, he’s v into pastel aesthetics (dark and intense colors make him anxious and he doesn’t know why)

Guns and loud booming sounds scare him half to death, they’re a very big trigger sometimes

When he’s scared, he clutches his cane close, and god help you if you even think about trying to grab it away from him then

Sometimes you catch him wandering the halls of the egos’ shared home, looking for someone he can’t remember

Sometimes you have to gently pry his cane away from his shaking hands in order to wash away the red staining it in the moments in between

He’s so sweet and thoughtful that it honestly physically hurts

A Good Boi who just wants to make sure everyone is having a Good Time

Honestly gives really good advice (he likes to make everyone feel listened to as much as he can)

He focuses so much on the tiny details of life, the little things that make life worth while, that sometimes you have to pull him out of his little introspective trances

Very sweet but also very anxious boi

Seriously he gets so fuckn frazzled sometimes he can barely talk (he has own little quiet space in his room he can squirrel away into most of the time, thankfully)

He really doesn’t know what’s going on or where he is or what he’s doing in this existence sometimes and it’s really very fucking tragic-

Five minutes ago he was smiling at the bumble bees outside and now he sobbing in the hallway and nobody knows what to do please send help

Several of the egos suspect some type of personality/mood disorder was triggered by his mysterious but very clear trauma and they’re probably not far wrong

Suspicious lapses in memory are suspicious (and also very sad and indicative of his metal state tbh)

If Wilford is sex incarnate then Dames is soft and cuddly pillow talk come to life

(Y'all can pry gay Damien from my cold dead hands but if that ain’t ya headcanon of choice feel free to ignore this one of mine: Dames’ mind is so cracked that internalized homophobia is least important thing in his life rn tbh so he’s more or less unconsciously elected to stop giving a shit about that; he comes home every now and again with different men, all rugged and strong but with bright, charming smiles that remind Dames terribly of someone he can’t quite grasp in his mind-)

Despite the veritable cinnamon role aura around him, no one really worries about him, at least not physically speaking. Dames’ has proven many times over he doesn’t much need to be looked after, if the blood puddles staining in his studio floor are any indication

I’m very much convinced that Dames would try something in entertainment, similarly to Wilford, like being a talk show host, something like Dr. Phil or maybe Oprah, a show where he’s a sweet, charming host that talks to people about life and their problems and generally gives very good advice-

-except when things go a lil bit awry and someone has to be called in to clean the blood spills and other various unfortunate gross bits.

Dames’ perception of death is less ‘lmao-isn’t-this-fun-oh-he’ll-be-fine-lol-a-lil-stabbing-never-hurt-anyone’ and more like ‘oh-oh-shit-wait-no-what-happened-I-swear-we-were-just-having-a-good-time-but-then-he-started-screaming-and-I-don’t-know-what-to-do’ along with a painful dose of 'he’ll-be-okay-right-they’re-always-okay-yeah-we-can-come-back-when-he’s-feeling-better-it’s-okay-I-know-it-is’

Damien never fucking lets go of that damn cane of his own free will (usually it can only be gently taken away when he’s not in his right mind and, subsequently, the cane needs to be cleaned of it’s unsavory stains)

He’s so clingy and emotionally unstable on top of everything it’s really sad tbh

If you even fucking look at Damien wrong, the Colonel will have your damn head and you’ll never be heard from ever again-

AAAANDDD THAT’S ALL I HAVE FOR NOW YEAA

Seriously, I love this AU so much, I really gotta doodle something else for it when I get the chance to. Thanks a bunch for the ask, anon! ♡

#who killed markiplier #wkm #mayor damien #damien wkm #darkiplier #Wilford warfstache #cotton candy murderer au #switch au #my headcanons #my text post #ask sketchy #not art #dames donovan #cotton candy murder boi damien #i word vomitted all of my headcanons hope you enjoyed lol #markiplier #my blue bubblegum boi #cotton candy cutie #cotton candy damien

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chaosbcrne · 6 years ago

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TAGGED BY: @blue-pincushion thank youuu TAGGING: @brokenweapon, @hcrwish, @bouncepads, @heartfelt-silver, @last-fxstbump

— BASICS.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE TALL / SHORT / AVERAGE ? ...he’s on the shorter side, though I guess not that far off average for mobians/hedgehogs. definitely short compared to humans though, and tiny for a Black Arms. he appears a bit taller than he actually is, though, because his shoes give him two inches. he’s 3′4″ with them on, 3′2″ without

▸ ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT ?

yea. i mean i feel like he’s been enduring a bit more teasing than usual lately because of it, but it’s not something that bugs him past that. he spent several years on the ARK where everything was built for humans so he got very used to dealing with his smaller size, climbing on counters and shelves to reach stuff, looking up at people, things like that. his size definitely doesn’t feel like a problem in human environments, let alone mobians’

▸ WHAT’S THEIR HAIR FUR LIKE ?

very versatile, much like his incessant quilling his fur is constantly adapting to change, mostly in temperature, growing longer when it’s cold, thicker when it’s rainy, shedding when it’s warm and so on. it always has a decent enough layer though, you can never see skin beneath his black fur unless it’s been ripped/burnt/cut off, so I guess in that sense its default state is considerably more furnished than that of the average hedgehog

his thicker white fur follows the same kind of behavior, it grows wider in winter to cover most of his upper body and throat and essentially serves as a natural scarf so he can breathe okay even when he’s dashing against sub-zero winds, and it sheds back down to a small patch that barely covers his chest in summer to reduce risks of overheating

▸ DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR / GROOMING ?

not... really ? I’d say he settles for a quick but thorough daily shower, he’s not one for grooming much past that because he already sheds like crazy and that would speed up the process even more ? if anything, he might pat down his white fur a bit because it really fluffs up when it air-dries

▸ DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE / WHAT OTHERS THINK ?

he didn’t for a long time, but I think learning his color scheme was due to Black Arms genes may have changed that a little; he doesn’t like the idea of being seen as one of them, that’s why he avoids taking his gloves off around others or show off his teeth much or doesn’t like eating in public, i could go on for a while but basically he didn’t mind his black and red colors and his threatening complex until he learned he got that from man-eating aliens,

over the years i think he’s come to terms with it for the most part because black is real useful on stealth missions and for getting that extra warmth on sunny days and claws can come in real handy sometimes when you’re missing certain tools, but, yeah i think there’s probably still a bit of lingering self-consciousness there

— PREFERENCES.

▸ INDOORS OR OUTDOORS ?

hmm I think he has a slight preference for outdoors just because it’s less confined and ever-changing, but he wouldn’t spit on indoors either you know sometimes you just need some place to take a break and where there’s a limited possibility of things that could happen

▸ RAIN OR SUNSHINE ? both. both are addictive when you spent your early life where you could experience neither of those, in fact i’d say those exact two things are responsible for shadow growing/shedding fur out of season because he’s the kind to just stand in the rain when it’s cold or in the sun when it’s hot just because the feeling of rain through his quills or sunshine in his fur will always be like a bit of a novelty to him ▸ FOREST OR BEACH ? hhh f...f.....beach probably. both are fine but i feel like the beach is one of those cliche things maria especially wanted to experience and talked about all the time so he just have a slightly better preconceived idea of it ▸ PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS ? im just gonna link you to the lucky charm post that should give you a clear idea ▸ FLOWERS OR PERFUMES ? flowers hands down. they’re colorful and pretty and smell good and are natural. maria would have loved them and also earlier this year rouge decorated the whole observatory in the ARK with them to surprise shadow and it was Good ok ▸ PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE ? personality. yeah people can be nice to look at but if that’s all they got going for them they’re not worth much ▸ BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD ? alone. i don’t think i have much explaining to do here lmao he’s just not a people person. small groups can be okay and so are a good few people, like, he can deal with a crowd or otherwise large number of people in one place but he’s definitely not gonna enjoy it as much as just being alone ▸ ORDER OR ANARCHY ? I think Gerald’s (and therefore his) idea of an ideal world was a place where they’re one and the same ? a world where people are free to do what makes them happy, to not be limited in any way shape or form but where such a freedom would lead to people being selfless and generous enough to not throw it all into chaos ? but given that’s not really something remotely feasible at this point order is probably the best options in his books given what he’s seen some people do once some of their restraints were removed ▸ PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES ?

painful truths. unless it concerns him revealing stuff about himself that he just doesn’t want people to know about, he’s always gonna be blunt with people and he expects the same courtesy in return. shadow’s sick of all the lies and insincerity a lot of people go to for no good reason and he’d rather you just tell him the truth head-on

▸ SCIENCE OR MAGIC ? chaos energy is where it’s at. i don’t know what it counts as, i’m assuming it’s something between the two ? gerald, tails, eggman and probably a whole lot of other people managed to harness it to create life or power machinery and such, so it can be useful in terms of science, but it’s also something so unstable and unquantifiable and tricky to control or even understand, and being able to do so is considered a power instead of knowledge - which makes it sound more like magic. either way, that’s what shadow believes in and relies on - not that i expect that to be a surprise to anyone, considering ▸ PEACE OR CONFLICT ? he strives for peace but i don’t think he’d know what to do with himself if that was ever achieved tbh ▸ NIGHT OR DAY ?

either. shadow’s not operating on a regular day/night cycle so the two are basically interchangeable to him, for better or worse. i wrote more about this over here

▸ DUSK OR DAWN ?

again, the two aren’t really different to him

▸ WARMTH OR COLD ?

hmm warmth probably. he’s definitely built to tolerate cold more than warmth but the general concept of warmth is just associated with more pleasant feelings in general

▸ MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS ?

im gonna say like the bbff, points at team dark

▸ READING OR PLAYING A GAME ?

it really depends on the mood he’s in honestly. i’ve explained before(x) that shadow is actually quite fond of reading, but if he’s too restless for one reason or another some kind of game will be better for his nerves. or just, you know, if team dark is stuck on standby at HQ and they’re waiting around to be called in

— QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS ? - letting people provoke him very easily - always talking down on people at first - pushing people away 24/7 - not having an established eating or sleeping schedule he can keep track of - crossing his arms all the damn time

▸ HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM ? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM ?

hahahaha

oh boy

▸ WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS ?

- the countless hours spent in the observatory with maria - early team dark times when he had good enough days to just focus on his goal and not worry about everything else, probably mostly around grand metropolis/casino park hours, when they were starting to be a proper team but things hadn’t gotten too serious/difficult yet - when a certain hedgehog came back to life and immediately turned to him and silver for additional help. i’ll go into this more some other time but let’s just say that meant a great deal to him - that crush 40 concert rouge took him and omega to - quite a few simple moments spent with his team that wouldn’t have looked like much to many others but that he remembers clearly feeling fulfilled and happy right then and there - a certain night when things felt Bad and a certain hedgehog showed up and made them feel good again - spraining zero’s wrist

▸ IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL ?

if we’re talking physically, yes. if we’re talking emotionally,

not as much as he makes it look like honestly. death is something very permanent that has been the cause of possibly the biggest trauma he’s experienced in his life - he does not take that lightly and does not inflict it when he sees an alternative. episode shadow in forces can go suck a lemon

▸ WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN ?

that’s happened once and that’s a drabble in the works so yall are just gonna have to be patient for this one

▸ IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE ?

hhh it’s. difficult. but it’s definitely something team dark has earned at this point. literally all three of them have explicitly proven that they would give up their lives for either of the others so it’s safe to say there’s absolute trust between them now

▸ WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE ?

oh boy it’s bad lmao

shadow is very unfamiliar with the concept of romantic love as a whole so he has no idea how he’s supposed to behave with the subject of his affection. remember that picture where he’s holding sonic’s hand and staring at it and presumably has been doing so for like ten minutes ? yeah

social norms aside what would come naturally to him is a very, very intense protectiveness - that’s his primary response when it comes to anyone he’s attached to and romantic ties would be no different. he would be very defensive of them verbally but also protective-bordering-on-possessive physically

he also pays very close attention, i’ve already said it countless times but he’s an amazing listener and whoever he’s smitten with would likely be someone he could watch and listen to intently for very long periods of time. he’ll never be the most talkative but don’t let that fool you into thinking he won’t enjoy engaging conversations with the person he’s interested in

aside from that i tend to think that shadow would be a very unintentional sap because, again, he’s not familiar with whatever’s considered normal in a relationship. so he’ll be the kind to let the other know he’s thinking of them in various ways or just show up and surprise them with something they might want, all completely shamelessly and like it’s no big deal because if it pleases them why should he hold back ? (of course that’s all in a hypothetical situation where it’s solely between him and his significant other-- if there’s other people involved he’s gonna be a lot more subtle/shy about it if he dares doing anything out of the ordinary at all)

his affection is hard to earn but once you have it he’ll be loyal to you for life honestly

#✮ ☾ there’s no time for games ☽ ↳ tag meme #✮ ☾ step inside and hold on for dear life ☽ ↳ headcanon #do i really need to go into details about gerald and marias death traumatizing him to the point where he hardly believes in kindness anymore #i dont think so

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