#what about us who were mentally unstable and used it as an escape? why are we the ones mostly getting the “social media cause” blame?

[autisticlee]

thinking about how much depression and anxiety I had around school until my senior year when I discovered social media and could use the internet regularly (aka tumblr) and how my depression and anxiety got so much better and I arguably did better my senior year than all previous years at school. I had an escape to go to where I finally had a few friends to confide in and laugh with. also learned about gender and autism and other stuff about myself and was able to realize i'm not a weird freak who is alone in the world and there's others like me. it was either use that as an escape or keep sitting outside every day after school, even in the rain and cold, with my tiny radio listening to shitty repetitive music the radio stations played or my cd player and listening to the copy of mcr black parade a girl at school gave me, and strew in my depression alone, crying and wanting to die. what part of my mental health was CAUSED by social media if I didn't have social media when I was at my worst lmao

[buttercupblu]

Satoru's Psyche|Escalating

"Should I really have to suffer for my actions?"

Previous SessionSession 2 of 10|Next Session

🗂️Patient Chart Update: Patient Gojo displayed extremely flirtatious and unruly behavior during the first half of his visit. Mentions of escape and kid-napping were noted as well as enforced close proximity with his nurse. Threatening remarks were also made at the end of his lunch in response to mentions of disciplinary action. Patient is scheduled for a bath but is pending the possibility of negative punishment to instill corrective behaviors. 📋Length of Session (w.c): 8.1k out of "i said we will cross that bridge when we get to it 😊" 💊Intake Chart (tags): mild violence but no in-action descriptors, coercion, manipulation, drug use, angst, unwatched close contact and touch, nudity, mentally unstable Gojo, Nurse!Reader ✏️Doctor's angel’s note: i hope you know what you're doing, Nurse 🎼Waiting room music: Overheated|Billie Eilish

Choose wisely.

Hunger stirs in your tummy, and Gojo's words sit with you through lunch. Your spoon clinks around the bowl, stirring the soup growing colder by the second though the growls from your stomach are too obnoxious to be ignored. But your mind wanders.

You're stuck. Earlier, you were all for serving up justice on a silver platter, but now you're seriously second-guessing your "genius" idea to punish Gojo by making him someone else's problem.

As if anyone would be crazy enough to say yes.

Everyone already avoids his wing like the plague. It's kind of an unspoken fact that you are Gojo's one and only. The only staff he allows near him. Anyone else would be playing with fire.

And if someone was brave enough to willingly throw themselves into the lion's den, they definitely couldn't be new. New to nursing—new to the ward. High expertise was needed here. Someone seasoned—experience which you lacked yourself—otherwise, they wouldn't last a second with Gojo.

It'd be way too easy for him to make them snap, like tossing a bone to a dog.

"Persephone." Yuko brings you out of your coma.

You perk up, instinctively smiling. "Hey, what's up?"

"You tell me," she snorts. "You've been playing with your food like break isn't over in 10 minutes." She touches your arm. "Everything ok?"

It's written all over your face, huh? You could deflate right now.

This is why Yuko is your favorite co-worker. Always reading you like a book without you needing to say a word. Quick to call anything off out.

Leaning back in your chair, you huff, rubbing circles into your temples to relieve the headache you didn't know you had.

"Yeah, yeah," you begin, "It's just—" You stop, her eyes hold so much concern and you've barely opened your mouth. Not sure if you should now because you know what kind of person Yuko is.

And if she knew even half of what you don't tell her during your lunch breaks spent complaining about work, she'd hang Gojo out to dry if she could. She often makes it very clear she hates you have to deal with him at all.

"—I'm just a bit tired. Gojo's scheduled for a bath later, him and two others. Gojo's easy but...I don't know. I feel slower than usual today. Definitely won't get home until late, again, because of all these sponge baths." You cringe at the last part.

Aside from trying to keep Yuko cool, you also didn't want to risk the news getting back to the Director who could take you off of Gojo completely. No one else could take your place. And who knows what would happen if you disappeared from his roster for good?

How would his threats manifest?

Yuko scoffs, waving her hand.

"Gojo and easy do not go together," and you both shake your heads and laugh. "But I get it. You did come in super early."

"Thought there'd be less of us," you sigh.

"Sonya's been on our asses lately, right? But hey, she finally got us all here."

"A little too late. The damage is done," you pout, resting your elbows on the table, realizing you've accidentally grown used to chaos and ever-changing schedule.

You routinely plan ahead to make sure you can stand up when people fall short. Constantly putting yourself on the back burner seems to be a thing that always set you back.

"Sooo, you just need rest, ya? Nothing else? Gojo—" there it goes "—been 'okay' with you lately?"

Your heart skips. "Ya. he isn't so bad today," you lie, "I'd just love to be home on time for once. Maybe even a bit early, I'm soo close. Overtime's been wringing my neck for weeks."

Yuko looks at you with puppy dog eyes. And not in a "I feel sorry for you" kind of way, but one that almost makes you feel bad for not telling her the whole truth.

"Here," she pushes your soup towards you, "How about I do Gojo's bath and you get an early start on my last two? That way you can at least binge that show you won't shut up about later." She smiles.

You immediately protest.

There's no way you can do that to her.

Yuko never even crossed your mind and was far from your first pick, not because she couldn't handle him but because she was your friend. Not just a colleague, but someone you actually cared about more than anyone else in this run-down job even if she didn't feel the same.

She's too good of a person, and you'd be the Devil Incarnate if you let her do something so risky. Especially when you can just suck it up and get it over with.

"Woah, woah, it's just a bath, calm down," she says, taking your hands in hers as you ramble on trying to convince her that you'll be fine or that you'll find someone else.

Burdening her was completely out of the question.

"Who else but me, Seph'? You don't you think I'm as good as you?" And the way she says it, giving you that look she does when you're being stubborn, dares you to challenge her.

Now you really had to think about what to say.

Goddamn it, you regret saying anything at all, but Yuko's so motherly, how could you resist? Hiding from her is impossible, she would've sniffed you out sooner or later.

Easing your pains when she could was her specialty—helping to calm and settle you down when you're quick to blow things out of proportion.

Could this be one of those moments? Or were Gojo's words more than just hot air?

The back and forth was killing you, but the combination of Yuko's reassuring touch and your gurgling stomach put the final nail in the coffin as she reminded you of the time.

Eyes wide, you look at the clock, ticking away faster than you realized, then back at your lukewarm soup.

Denying that you needed help would be silly because technically it was true. You probably should've asked the Director for a little Gojo break long ago, even if just for a few hours a few times a week. It was better than nothing because if you couldn't function, Gojo couldn't be cared for.

And when you really think about it, who better to fill in for you than Yuko?

The gutsy woman has been your rock since you started at the ward, She's had your back, sticking with you through tough times at work when staff constantly dipped in and out of the facility like a rotating door after being unable to handle the job.

A real day one.

Next to you, she's the most competent nurse in these walls, fully equipped with a "take-no-shit" attitude that routinely keeps her patiently in check.

It'd be silly, downright irresponsible to trust anyone else.

Her offer is simply too good to dismiss.

"Thank you, Yuko," you cave, grabbing your spoon and finally allowing yourself to enjoy your meal. "You're...amazing. I don't deserve you."

She looks on happily. "Just promise me you'll take some personal time after this," she insists, worry evident in her voice. "We both know how much you care, but even superheroes need rest."

She's too kind and right in more ways than one.

"Besides, I think Gojo will like me, ya? I'm cool. I'm fun. He'll like a friend of friend, you think?"

Your eyes roll—ya, totally, cool people definitely say they're cool.

You don't know whether to joke back or wave her off, softly smiling at her concern instead before nodding. You vow to make good on your promise and feel a bit lighter knowing your wish for early release will actually come true.

Maybe.

The latest threat to your miracle in the making is Mr. Hampton, who is personally making it his business to drag the already long day by its edges. Almost bringing time to a standstill with the way he's handling his bath.

Enormous and lumbering, the man Yuko usually deals with took his sweet time gathering his things and even longer trekking down the seemingly endless halls leading to the bathing area. Occupying every inch of the space like those massive trucks on the interstate, hogging the road, yet inching along at a pace that makes a snail look like it's in a sprint.

All that was missing were the yellow hazard lights.

Oh no, please, take your time, you think, watching Mr. Hampton clean each limb painstakingly s l o w in a tub that's comically too small for him. You may have been able to rush through Yuko's first patient, but this one wanted all that time back.

His pace resembles a giant's, and his cheerful nonsensical hums echo around the hollow chambers, lulling you to sleep, turning your eyes into bricks under the spell of the melody. Perfect timing for the energy drinks from early to crash you out, tag teaming with the chair beneath you that feels a bit too soft as you lean over the tub, willing the colossal man to hurry up.

Warm water flows over your skin as you scrub circles on his neck, deciding to bite the bullet and take over the bath so he can play with the foamy bubbles, when you hear a blood-curdling scream.

Your entire body goes rigid, shock reverberating through your spine and forcing you to halt as your mind goes blank. But steamy water brings you back to life, drenching your shirt and upper thighs when Mr. Hampton jumps from surprise.

The rude awakening makes you lock in.

The scream. It sounds like...no, you know it came from the west wing...where Gojo is.

And Yuko.

Hurried steps rush past your door, sounds of multidirectional distress and frantic shouts echoing through the corridor—staff members and patients alike swept into a whirlwind of panic.

You're number one, dropping the scrubber and scrambling to help Mr. Hampton out of the tub, hands shaking as he grips them.

A security guard bursts into the room, face ashen and jaw tight.

"Nurse! We need everyone in the west wing, immediately!" The command is sharp, laced with an urgency you've never seen before.

And immediately feel responsible for.

"There's been an incident."

Without another thought, you wrap Mr. Hampton in a towel, trying your best to assure him that everything is fine when your obviously trembling body said nothing was. His confused gaze follows you as you lead him back to his room, the commotion in the air moving him a lot faster than earlier before you rush back out heading straight for the west wing—where chaos reigns supreme.

The usually pristine floors, normally squeaky clean floors due to lack of traffic, are now barely visible. Staff members crowd the familiar hall for the first time since Gojo made it his own, filling the space with more bodies than you were used to and making it difficult to find the source of trouble.

Not like you needed to. The truth is painfully clear.

It's disrespectful even to even pretend you don't know exactly what went wrong, and your heart feels as if it'll burst from your chest any moment now just thinking about it. Crushing guilt wrapped you in its clutches, but it was nothing compared to the pain you might've caused.

You push through the masses, clumsily bumping shoulders, heart beating into your ears making the world seem quiet as you inch closer and closer to disaster. Dragging imaginary shackles on your feet with each step until you all but collapse once you spot it.

Gojo—barely restrained by guards, straitjacket nowhere in sight—standing absolutely furious.

And for the first time today, time seems to slow down, your mouth becoming suddenly dry mouth when you look past him.

Yuko.

Halfway out the door to his room. Sprawled out on the ground. Bruised, unconscious, and no signs of breathing.

Your hands fly to your lips, mouth agape. Murmurs from the crowd swirl around you as attendants rush to Yuko's side, knocking into your pathetic frame as you stand too frozen to move.

They gently pick her up, careful to handle her motionless body and place her on a stretcher. Her usually vibrant face is drained of color, twisting the dagger in your chest when you spot the subtle rise and fall of her chest. Fighting for breath.

Fighting.

It hits you like a hammer.

Someone as kind as her, so full of light, love, and joy, always greeting you with warmth and empathy and capacity every time she sees you, should never have to lift a finger let alone fight for her life. The sight is too much to bear.

Waves of helplessness crash over you and you can't even look at her. Regretting with every ounce of your being that you sent her in your place. Knowing this could happen. Concerned only with your silly wants and needs.

But you're so confused.

The ward should have weakened Gojo—Yuko should have been fine. The only threat Gojo has up his sleeve is mental torture but Yuko might as well be Freud. Her mind is sound, strong.

And that's where you fucked up, forgetting that Gojo's pure strength, especially when he's lost his fucking mind and triggered, is stronger.

Even with his security system in place, the devil was still powerful enough on his own. And like this was some sick and twisted experiment to figure that out, Yuko was the one to pay the price.

"I warned, I WARNED YOU!" Gojo's words pierce the overlapping voices like a sword, drawing everyone's attention to the strange interaction between the two of you. "I don't like to be touched by strangers, Nurse." Guards struggle to restrain him as he tugs and pulls away.

All eyes fall on you and you can feel the tense stares. The unspoken judgment.

Why was Yuko here in the first place?Where was Seph’?How’d he get out?How did this happen? 

You don’t know if the murmurs are real or only in your head, but the effect is all the same, making you wish you could completely vanish.  You stand like a deer in headlights—and they're so fucking bright.

Gojo brims with malice and amusement, chaotic energy pulsing from the hellish man and threatening to send sparks flying. As if he's daring someone to be brave and push the button.

But despite his outward display of dominance, the pure rage on his face making you feel sick to your stomach about every decision you've ever made, something...uncertain lurks behind those fiery eyes.

Something like...apprehension.

Like he knew he had done something wrong.

Words escape you, as if anything even needs to or could be said. But fear and guilt soon turn to anger and threatens to consume you. Ready to eat you alive and spit out the bones with disgust.

You are not a victim.

You have no right to stand here, spineless, shocked, or feeling even a little sorry for yourself.

Your fists clench as you hold back tears. 

What was done was done. And someone needed to pay.

But you exhale, thoughts shifting to Yuko as you take a good look around at the results of what happened the last time you decided to punish Gojo. All of your actions, even now, rooted in selfishness. Like you've learned nothing.

You push down the knot growing in your stomach and turn away to follow the medics.

Your friend needed you more than you needed revenge.

And Gojo didn't deserve any more of your attention, even if it meant risking your job or even your life to turn your back on him.

And there's nothing Gojo hates more than being ignored.

Struggled and strained noises grow louder. Guards tighten their grip on the fuming man whose raw strength outnumbered thousands of them even without his cursed energy.

You look back, their determination to keep him contained makes you nervous—you don't want anyone else to get hurt and Gojo knows that.

You're painfully aware that your decisions have put you in this position, watching the guards' valiant but increasingly pointless effort to prevent Gojo from causing further harm.

But it's an obviously losing fight, and the unease on their faces is unmistakably clear.

You wonder why they don't just run like hell.

"Let's go," a guard barks, but Gojo remains fixed in place. Moving a boulder would be easier.

"No, I'm filthy," Gojo protests, smirking, "And if I don't have my bath soon, there will be hell to pay."

He sees no one else in the room, eyes locked only on you, his expression a menacing promise that would send anyone else running for the hills. A look that says, "Try that shit again, and there will be casualties instead of mercy."

Reinforcements are called but it'll never be enough. Not even the goddamn military. Gojo...is the strongest, after all.

"Stop this."

Your cry freezes the room, plunging everything into a tense silence.

You hesitate, fuck, what should you do?

What can you do? No one else can suffer—no one else should suffer. Because of you.

You take a deep, shaky breath, silently apologizing to Yuko.

"I'll do it," you say firmly, "Just stop this and...and I'll give you your bath. Please—" The sharpest pang you've ever felt cuts through you. "—just don't hurt anyone else."

Pathetic.

But necessary.

He looks into your pleading eyes in surprise, amazement even, then smiles.

The submission in your voice sounded better than he could ever imagine. Like sweet music feeding his already inflated ego.

The guards exchange uneasy glances, clearly unsure of how to proceed.

Gojo's strength is undeniable, and it's evident that restraining him forever is not possible.

And you know offering to give him what he wants is risky as hell...but this was your doing. Your mess to clean up.

You squeeze your sweaty palms and give a decisive nod, signaling to the guards to let him go. They hesitate, then reluctantly agree and step back, leaving Gojo standing smugly before you.

You close your eyes and breathe, hating the idea of looking at him, but needing to stay strong. For Yuko. And everyone else in the ward.

Gojo's satisfied grin says it all.

Let's get this over with.

The squeaking of your shoes has never been this loud, each echo bouncing off the empty halls and reminding you of how alone you are.

Alone—with a psychopath.

A bit more docile, doped-up psychopath but, the man could probably still rip someone's head off if he wanted to.

Still Gojo despises anything that alters his body—mentally, physically, all of the above. Alcohol, medication, coffee, energy drinks—anything that threatens his need for absolute control.

But he also needed to compromise, and you refused to be alone with him again unless he took something stronger. Otherwise, it would be you, all the guards in the ward, and a pay-per-view premiere of his bath time.

He knew he had to agree because his ass is not for free, but only if you took it as well.

You blinked, hard.

You knew he would be skeptical—hell, it could be poison, and he wouldn’t blame you. But to suggest something so ridiculous?

"Half, then," he said, as if that made his suggestion any less idiotic, but, surprisingly, as you waited for your supervisor to dismiss the insane idea, the back and forth with Gojo actually didn't save you. And there was no need to ask why. The entire ward shot daggers at you any time someone walked by now.

She reassured you that you'd be fine, the mild tranquilizer would be out of your system by the end of the day, then patted your back as if to say, "lay in the bed you made."

It felt unreal, holding the familiar pill between your fingers, one you were used to dishing out but now had to take.

With a quick snap, you broke it in half, holding the half-pill out to the leering man. Gaze unwavering, he leaned forward and parted his lips, waiting.

You took a deep breath and placed them both on your tongues, but he couldn't pass up this opportunity to feel you and closed his lips around your fingertip with a quick lick before you snatched away.

But it wasn’t quick enough to avoid the tingles shooting up your arm as you swallowed without needing the water you had set aside, a confusing mix of emotions churning as it spread through the rest of your body.

He made good on his promise and swallowed his own, still watching you with a knowing look. And damn him, he's probably still thinking about it.

The guards carefully lead you and Gojo to his private bathroom—they're more there for show than for protection, but you'll take what you can get, and they keep a firm grip on his replacement straitjacket.

You trail behind, mind buried with thoughts of what to say once you're really alone with him.

The door shuts behind you followed by the familiar sound of a series of locks clicking shut. "We'll be right outside," one of the guards mutters, eyes shifting between you and Gojo. A stereotypical hint lacing his voice, but even he probably doesn't believe it.

"Perv," Gojo sneers. And laughs, but you don't find a damn thing funny, keys to his jacket digging into your palms as you spin around the face him, furious. Debating on whether to slap him, kick him, or knock his teeth out. Or be particularly evil and just let him sit in the shower, fully restrained and drenched in cold water. A move you know would do no good but show him exactly how done you are with his shit.

"That isn't funny. None of this is funny. You've hurt someone—you hurt my friend."

His laugh fades, smug expression slipping from his face. Even you're surprised.

...oh shit.

You're actually confronting him.

The intense words burn through his usual arrogance, leaving a heavy, uncomfortable silence between you.

Then, for a fleeting second, his face does something weird.

Something you haven't seen before as his eyebrows draw together. Is that...regret?

"I'm sorry."

The record scratches.

...the hell is this??

You squint at him.

The words were muttered, reluctant, but there they were, hanging in the air between you.

"It...won't happen again."

And he's serious, the same seriousness you see when his heart races when you take his vitals...but why? Because an apology? From him?? Unheard of.

Gojo has said some nasty things to you in the past that you've immediately scolded him for but he's never apologized. He'd make a note when certain jokes didn't land, but he never took them back, preferring to cut out his own tongue rather than waste his breath being sorry.

You know better than to take anything Gojo says at face value, but...what the fuck??? You almost feel offended.

He has to be joking, fucking with you to dig even deeper under your skin.

Or is he?

Now you don't know how to feel.

He's so good at that. Stealing the air back and hanging his words in them. Tempting you to pause and even consider if he truly meant them. If he could mean them. The mind games are endless.

But then, the familiar cockiness returns, along with that smile that twists your stomach into knots.

"Now," he says, strutting towards the stalls, "let's get this bath started, shall we?" And his easy, but confident steps call you to follow, a stark reminder of who you're dealing with. But he never knows when to quit. "Or should I really have to suffer for my actions?" and the bastard pouts.

Though you know he's being sarcastic and not to feed into his taunts, you can't help but wonder—what would suffering even look like for someone like Gojo?

Violence? Physical pain? A slow and agonizingly painful death?

But the guy is damn near invincible. What on earth could hurt him?

Whatever it was, it would have to be his absolute worst nightmare, but nothing comes to mind other than frustration.

Damn it, you have to keep making choices.

Return his energy or keep it professional? Tolerance or revenge?

"Apologizing won't cut it," you snap and gesture at his jacket, wondering how the hell he slipped out of the first one without leaving a trace. "And no tricks, or those guards will be back in here faster than you can tell another joke."

Smooth.

Gojo sighs sooo dramatically, like he can see straight through your little kitty claws. "Fine, fine. Loosen up," he drags, "I won't cause any trouble. Just don't go getting any ideas now, Nurse." He finishes with a wink.

He's insufferable—but despite your smoldering anger, tendrils of doubt still creep in.

Your fingers slightly tremble as you begin to unfasten his straps, but each click feels a bit like victory. A fragile illusion of your 'control'—at least for now because at the end of the day, Gojo had chosen you to listen to. And after today, he's sure you won't forget there isn't room for anyone else.

The jacket falls with a heavy thud, your eyes immediately scanning his upper body in search of any signs of injury or stress. The cascading bruises on his arms surprise you.

They feel so feeble in your hands, the jarring evidence of him not as invincible as he seems. Pale, weak, and resting between your fingers. Devoid of the power that makes him so feared.

"Never seen bruises before," and he tilts his head, "at least not on me"

You hope Yuko was at least partly responsible for the marks on the villain, but they appear self-inflicted, and he's not as mobile.

Fuck, now you'll have to bathe him too. But it's strange, seeing him like this. Even weirder knowing that he could still do damage in this state and you can't shake the feeling of this temporary 'truce'. If it isn't obvious by now, you've learned that Gojo always has something up his sleeve.

Warm water soothes you a bit, flowing over your fingers into the large white tub—pristine, imported from somewhere far away and standing on decorative claw feet. Your eyes wouldn't stop rolling the first time you saw it, completely annoyed with Gojo's over-the-top alterations and sense of style, but you'd be a liar if you said you never thought about sinking your body into it.

The best you could do was cope with the little porcelain tub in your apartment, and you get lost thinking about how you'd love to take a long, hot, and steamy bath when you get home—if you'll even have the energy. There's no way you'll be leaving early now, not like you deserve it, and feel sick even thinking about it. You doubt you'll even have a job tomorrow.

You look so defeated Gojo thinks, sauntering forward, lifting the hem of his shirt. You turn away, focusing instead on the temperature of the water but the rustling fabric as he pulls the shirt over his head and pants to the ground sends heat to your cheeks.

He certainly isn't lacking in physique, even in his current state, but still, you wonder how such a slim but toned frame could be so...powerful.

Could you be more obvious? Your flickering eyes are so telling, darting between him and the water, but he catches your gaze from the corner of his eye as if he's read your mind. So cute trying to hide away your thoughts.

You toss in his loofah, "Well...go on. Your water's ready." But Gojo can only grin, amused by your attempts to look away despite seeing his muscled frame a number of times. Still managing to fluster you.

"Your shirt," he eyes your top, "Your pants. Looks like you've already started without me."

The water stains from earlier sit beautifully across your chest, not yet fully dry, and drawing his eyes to your semi-erect nips.

His teeth tug at his bottom lip, eyes shamelessly raking over your hefty chest. "Always such a tease, aren't you, Nurse?"

You grit your teeth, cursing the swirling conflict in your easy heart, fully aware of the thin line between professionalism and this game of intimacy he just refuses to turn off. Everything was always a game no matter the circumstances. And he loves to push your buttons.

"Just get in, Gojo," you order, and after what feels like an eternity, the silence is broken by splashing water as he steps into the bath.

He slowly sinks in, sighing at the warmth of the water. Ringlets of steam engulf him, almost making his silky white hair disappear with it.

His arms string over the rim of the tub, a look of relaxation resting on his face as if he's had a long, hard day. You resist the urge to slap it off.

Sudsy bubbles form from the solution you pour under the faucet, hoping to shield your eyes from his body. You've seen enough today and expect the mini-rebellious act to piss him off, but as the bubbles grow, so do his eyes. He picks up a handful and actually starts playing with them.

"Nice touch," he adds, blowing them right into your face, and you watch with a tight lip as he decorates the bathroom with them, knowing you'll be the one to clean it all up.

He sits a crown on his head and gives himself a bubble beard, nipping your nose with some that you're quick to wipe away.

His pale eyes flutter, settling on you in a curious way.

He leans, arms flexing over the edge—steam-slicked sweat dripping down his face that he doesn't bother to wipe away. "I'm ready for my sponge bath," he says, and if it was hard to take him seriously before, it's damn near impossible now—especially with this ridiculous bubble mustache.

Sickening, him managing to still be so playful, so unserious, at a time like this.

You know Gojo's unhinged, yeah, quote, "mentally unwell and a literal danger to society, tf did you think??", but to nearly take someone's life and then make jokes afterward?

God, you feel so stupid, walking around him like you were the shit but with the wrong guard up the whole time, playing right into his hands and accidentally rewarding this grown-ass man who likes to play with bubbles.

The reality of your circumstances replays in your head, the story of how you ended up here, coddling this monster. Still confused as hell as to why it had to be you.

But then again, this was your job...right? To heal. To help those who can't help themselves. To offer redemption, no matter how twisted they seem.

Loofah in hand, you resist the urge to roll your eyes for the 400th time today. "Keep talking like that and I'll stop, Gojo," you say, reluctantly drenching the tool in soap before gently washing his back.

He sinks into your touch, closing his eyes and letting his body completely rest on the cool cast iron, breathing. Feeling like he's won no matter what you say because your scrubs feel like magic.

Across his arms and over his broad shoulders, you work your way down, bubbles glistening in your trail as you're careful not to miss a single inch of skin but don't linger too long.

Every now and then, you catch glimpses of his marked skin between the foam and because you hate yourself, your brain absolutely refuses to give you a break. You have to give kudos to the dedication to his craft. The muscle definition, the scar tissue telling stories of battles won. Evidence of his past before corruption. Everything it takes to be a hero.

It's unsettling, yet fascinating, the polarity between his beauty and his monstrous deeds.

This is another first for you, this level of care. Gojo usually just hops into the shower and takes care of himself as you wait outside—easy and thorough but always taking his sweet time, all while loudly singing some annoying song that inevitably gets stuck in your head.

But after today, it'll be impossible to trust him or you again, and the hushed whispers as the guards walked you both to the restrooms made that abundantly clear.

The pitiful thoughts seep into the way you hesitantly clean him, moving down to his chest and abs and making sure to avoid more sensitive areas, but the malicious glint in his eyes is unmistakable.

"Whatsamatter, Nurse?" Gojo taunts, feeling you slow around his lower region, "Afraid of gettin' too close?" And you can't believe you're praying for a speedy recovery so he can handle this himself.

You ignore his comment, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible. You're humiliated enough as it is and he can sense it, mocking you with a laugh.

"You're so uptight. Can't you just relax and enjoy the view?"

You want to scrub his cocky brow right off his face. "Just doing my job," you mutter, twice squeezing the loofah that feels a little funny in your hand as the soapy water rinses his chest.

The water feels heavenly on his skin, but the subtle change in your movements makes his brows furrow. Slowing, more deliberate, heavy as if you're wading through molasses. You keep adjusting your grip but the material feels so strange—the texture almost too soft like it could melt into your palm.

Your breath catches when you brush his skin, not realizing how close your fingers drifted to the edge of the sponge, and though it was only a second, it sends an unexpected jolt through his chest.

The muscle relaxers. How could you have already forgotten, you both think.

But Gojo, ever observant, doesn't miss a thing.

His eyes narrow slightly as he watches you. "Feeling a little funny, Nurse?" his velvet voice teases.

"I'm fine," you lie, though you couldn't be less certain as the muscles in your hands start to relax more than you intended, the sponge gliding over his abs, down his sides, rhythm almost hypnotic and making the man's head fall back. You try to push through the haze, to finish quickly and be free of him, to try to regain your slipping control, but you're in a losing battle against numbness and heightened awareness.

ANd God, he has to bite his lip at your touch that feels so intense, a sensation too good to keep to himself that you obviously need to stop being such a tight-ass.

You need to loosen up in a way that medicine can't help. And Gojo knows just the trick.

He licks his lips, tongue curling over his canine before splashing a wave of water on you in one swoop.

Saying you gasp is an understatement as the steamy wash drenches your face and front once again. You've been hit not once, but twice in a day—a new personal record.

Instinctively, you reach up to shield yourself, the loofah slipping from your hand, but Gojo is quicker, wrapping his hands around your wrists and holding you in place.

A scream prepares to surge from your body when Gojo maneuvers both of your wrists into one hand and places a finger to your lips.

"Ssssh ssh ssh ssh ssh," he hushes, his voice a little too calm, "I'm not going to hurt you." He swipes a lone droplet hanging from your eyelash. "I just want you to listen."

You freeze, nerves on fire as you're forced into this close proximity for the second time today. Inches away from his face that softens.

Though you can easily call for help, you know better than to argue—he knows you know better but he never felt threatened in the first place.

Besides, he can feel your breathing slowing, the effects of the pill combined with his firm hold sending a faint buzz from your wrists to your stomach. His finger remains on your lips as he brings his closer.

"Now," his eyes flicker to your bottom lip, "You're so very good at your job, Nurse." He smoothly pulls it with his thumb. "That's why I like you. You're thorough but real. Just what I need to keep me sane."

Sane?

"Sane," he repeats like he's heard your thoughts. "Believe it or not, you keep me grounded...like a good boy. Be proud, not a single soul here or anywhere else can compare to my strength, let alone deal with me yet...here you are." He looks at you like you're a marvel.

"You can handle that...can't you?"

Words fail you. This feels rhetorical. Why does he keep torturing you like this? What is it about you?

You haven't really thought about it since your first few weeks with him but now he's forcing you to think about the little 'power' he's given you that he can easily snatch back.

What happens if he decides to go further than flirting?

You can't handle it, any of it, any of this.

You hesitate, unsure of what to say but know it could never be the truth.

Gojo must sense it because he leans closer, his breath warm on your cheek.

"If you leave, I just might crack completely, beauty." A breath you didn't realize you were holding slips. "How do you think everyone else will fare against me then, hmm?"

Gojo knows he's a prodigy, yet he still manages to surprise himself sometimes, eyes lingering over the spots on your uniform soaked through just enough to make the fabric cling—perfect aim.

Ice shoots up your spine from the heat of his unadulterated gaze, but you refuse to let him see you falter. He almost feels a prick from the daggers you throw with your eyes.

"Oh, don't be like that, Nurse," and he purrs, thumbs grazing your wrists in a mockingly gentle touch. "We all have our boundaries, right? I thought communication was key in a relationship."

"Let go of me," you find your voice, "We're done here."

Gojo slightly tilts his head.

Look at you calling the shots, he thinks. So strong, so very serious.

"God I can't help it," he breathes, "You're so fun to mess with."

He could laugh in your face, have his way with you, and show you that your resistance means nothing.

Instead, he slowly releases your wrists and lies back against the tub. "I know you think about it—there's nothing wrong with a little fun...right?" and though the connection is severed, you don't know if it's the drugs or just him that makes his amplified touch linger as you sheepishly rub your wrists.

Gojo watches you blush red—thoughts you didn't know lived within you rushing to the forefront as if he's pushed a button.

Grimy, raw, salacious, unwanted thoughts of forbidden fruit, wandering hands, and stolen touches in the dark. Wondering what his idea of "fun" was like under the sheets. With a psycho named Gojo.

You feel like you should throw up in disgust but the nausea never comes, instead you burn between your legs.

Fuck, you've got to get out of here.

You draw a breath, forcing away the torturous daydreams and quickly finish his bath.

"You should rest," you firmly say and pull the plug to let the tub drain. "And don't expect any more favors from me."

He sits up slow, his expression stone-cold as he slicks back his wet hair. Then he smiles. "I promise. Now dry me off?" he quips.

You ignore his request, swiftly handing him a towel before he can flash you. Gruffing, you lower to your knees and begin drying the floor of his messes, hoping to distract you from your questionable sanity.

Rustling fabric fills the chamber as he dries off, and when you figure it's safe, you look up to a nude Gojo. Still dripping with bubbles, hair plastered to his derpy face, and toned muscles, all the muscles, presenting themselves in all their glory.

The only things dry are his damn hands.

He throws the towel over over his shoulder, sauntering towards you with a wicked grin.

"Well, aren't you gonna help me put this thing back on?" He nods at the jacket he knows is more bullshit than security. "Don't want you getting all worked up again."

The first time your brain registered that Gojo was flirting with you was on your third day as his nurse.

"Well, aren't you a breath of fresh air?" Gojo was sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall. It was the second time he'd noticed how sluggish you looked while tending to him, suggesting with a grin that you must be quite the party animal.

Ha. If only.

You tsked, tossing his bedsheets into the hamper, and assured him that your sleepy eyes and dragging feet were the result of long hours and running on fumes. Having time for fun was just a dream.

"I don't get out much myself," he says, alluding to the situation he's in, wearing sarcasm like a necklace. "I love a good night in as much as anyone else but, I don't know. The stuffiness hasn't grown on me yet."

You tugged the collar of your scrubs—the air did feel a bit thick, like the room hadn't been aired out in ages and you couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been sitting in it—how he could. That alone would be enough to drive you up a wall.

Sunlight flickered in your eyes, and you raised your hand to block it, noticing the small window perched above his chair.

"Ah, let's open this then," you said, walking over and wrestling with the ancient wood for a moment before finally pulling the creaky flap up to the ceiling.

Standing on your tiptoes to reach it, a sliver of your midriff peeked out, but what captured his attention most was the way the sun rays washed your face. You scrunched your nose, the breeze sending wisps of your hair to tickle it, and he imagined the feel of them between his fingers.

The view was beautiful, you thought, hands gripping the warm bars. Trees surrounded the vast area, stretching out as far as you could see, the pathway to civilization completely covered in dense forest from this angle.

You never realized how high up his ward was—or how long the drop was from here.

"Too bad I'm not small enough to slip through those bars." He rubbed his stomach. "But you know me, 'Mr. BigBack.'"

He joked around as he usually did, looking to trigger your defenses, but your sentiment was...odd.

This was the first time anyone had cared to do something so simple for Gojo. And the closest anyone had gotten to him without their knees buckling.

The first two days of your trial, the Director had guards posted right outside of Gojo's door, their presence a constant reminder to stay alert and maintain a safe distance from the convict and Gojo was positive the mental barrier would keep a wall between you forever.

But then you laughed. A real laugh. Snickery and cute. Finding his joke funny instead of threatening.

It surprised him, that sound. And he wanted to hear it again and again and again.

"Who knew you could bring so much light into this place?"

Later at lunch, you sat with Yuko, having your usual midday catch-up. You never start with yours but she, like most people in the ward now, was absolutely dying to hear about how you were dealing with the villain of the century.

"He's actually not so bad...yet. Corny, but," you took a pondering breath, "He kind of thanked me today?"

She immediately scoffed and waved you off and who could blame her?

You were the anomaly he chose to show mercy to and now he was thanking you??

Being polite was too far of a stretch to believe, you must have been mistaken. But when you gave her the deets on why he'd do such a thing, she nearly choked on her apple. "He said that??"

"Ya?" You patted her back with a concerned look.

"Watch out, Casanova." She cleared her throat and did a nervous laugh.

Her comment threw you off for the rest of lunch, but when you thought about it later that night while surfing for new shows, a light bulb went off.

He flirted with you.

Thinking it was just another one of those literal dry-humor jokes or simply gratitude for making his stay a little less crappy, it flew right over your head. You always feel warm inside when you help people so you didn't think too much about it.

To you, it was just a kudos. Nothing more.

But the way the stands in front of you now is everything.

As bold and brash as it gets.

Fuck. Me.

And your body betrays you, sending all of the vulnerable sensations you've been fighting to suppress from your soaking chest, tingling wrists, aching thighs, and heavy breath, straight to your throbbing clit.

Air escapes you and you scramble to grab your supplies and leave.

Enough is enough. The guards outside can restrain him and escort him back to his room for all you care. You just have to get out of there.

Away from him.

Away from temptation.

Hot, overwhelming, guilty, mentally and physically unstable temptation.

In the quiet of the hallway a level below Gojo's ward, you lean against a wall taking deep breaths, completely disgusted with yourself.

How are you supposed to keep dealing with this, with him?

He keeps pushing and pushing and pushing you to the edge until there's nowhere else to go. You can only imagine the hell the nurses he didn't like went through.

Taking care of him isn't getting any easier, and now you were fucking up and making mistakes.

But you're the only one who can do this. Who must.

So suck it up. Play along, Stop thinking only of yourself. Pretend.

Pretend.

Pretend?

...

What terrifies you the most is the thought that you may not have to.

You keep your scrambled thoughts to yourself when you're called into your Director's office at the end of the day.

You tell him the same story you told Yuko and take full responsibility for what happened, blaming it on exhaustion and needing a break. Swearing to never let it happen again.

By some miracle, you get to keep your job, though your one wish to leave early ended up costing you an hour and a half of unpaid overtime, and almost a friendship.

When you finally get home, you collapse onto your bed—images of the day, the ward, Yuko, flooding your thoughts, refusing to be pushed aside. You tell yourself that it's all just the guilt talking, just anxiety gnawing at your edges.

But then there's Gojo.

The most prominent one of all.

Staring you in the face with lifeless eyes and a ghostly smile. Tugging on your moral strings like a puppet.

When you close your eyes, you can't shake the feeling that he's waiting for you, a lurer in the shadows awaiting your every move.

Leave it. Leave it. Le—

You find yourself scrolling through your phone, deep-diving the web for information on your tormentor.

His past, his affiliations, anything to tell you who Gojo was, and who he is now.

The man is an anomaly.

Not much is known about him outside of mainstream news and internet rumors.

He's just this guy that kind of popped out of nowhere in the worst way possible. Conveniently on the tail of what could have been the most devastating incident in the history of Tokyo.

The media says he's a hero gone rogue but not much else. They damned him to hell and that was that. Even the Director disclosed very little about him during your briefing and you weren't allowed access to his files or records because it's all 'confidential'.

Nothing.

The more you search, you less that comes up. Not even silly conspiracy theories that you definitely thought would be riddling Reddit. The longer you scroll, the more you find yourself beginning to question your own sanity. Your interest. Sweet little buds of obsession.

Even though you hated taking it earlier, you actually need the pill now more than ever to relax, sleeping eluding you and mind wandering to imaginary scenarios as you stare at the ceiling. 

Tomorrow, you'll have to face Gojo again. And the day after that and the day after that and every day after.

In between your nearly non-existent off days, you'll have to seem him and decide what face you want to put on.

Because you simply cannot walk away.

After all, he's right—no one else can handle him like you can.

extended angel's note:

when i originally decided to make this into short story, i had no plans on using a y/n perspective. it was just going to feature an OC name i’ve used in stories before, named Persephone, buuuut i decided to wanted to keep it immersive and include no physical descriptors/personality specifics bc i knew i wanted to upload it to tumblr. 

to keep it reader-friendly, yk? 

alas, Persephone has had her claws in me the entire time i’ve been editing and said with her whole chest that i couldn't just dismiss her like that chile. so i decided changed the perspective but keep her name in place of y/n. 

you won’t see it too often in the story bc it’s not super significant or said a lot in general, bUT it is relevant for a certain moment later in the story. you’ll know when you know 🤭. 

anyway, hope it doesn't bother you guys too much. and def feel free to mentally plug your name when you see it to keep yourself grounded into the story.

tag list p.1: @reddiamondjazz @kiwismoother @rune1920 @blkkizzat @suguwife

@xerroe @enthyn @gloomuri671 @ressyshi @startatdawn

@khenanadeche @heijihatsutori @inluvkai @ixqiix @strawnanamilk

@rosso-seta @05-simply-06-simping @sims-4lifers @bratidol @rh-tg1

@hyunsuks-beanie @n1vi @luna-v-roiya @neteyamsluvr111 @supsiii

@natadecoco30 @chiyokoemilia @ririoutspoken @kyoxko @strawberrymilkshakes-posts

@nen-nyy @cinnamorochiroll @kazeniya @maybe7tommorow @sxnkuna

@misoyuh @lupitalove @sebastianlover @gojosatorubrainrot @sleepiebunniee

@mmmidkman @theonecrackhead @thathorsegotpoobrain @iveivory @samistar

@yuuan-66 @gojoslefttoenail @soyalovestoyap @winkwonks-world @thebiggestsimpforyou 

[shinning-whammy]

What if: Still Alive

your comment @nerfergamerboy1225 give me this idea and how this what if for red theraphy born, this is no canon for the original Au because here dogday's friends are alive

also since this comic born because your comment here on tumblr this comic will be post here before than twitter or other social media

here a little points about what happen on this what if

player save dogday's friends and all them were alive but catnap kept them locked up and away from dogday making he belive they are dead long time ago

dogday always have nightmares about fight or listen to his friends ask for help so each time he wake up hyperventilating catnap is there to calm him dow as reminds him they are already dead

dogday help catnap to keep playcare save there 1006 is happy for them being a good team

for canon about the Au Red Therapy Au 1006 add the red smoke to dogday corrupting his white smoke the only diference here, this works well making his corruptig smoke works like catnap

the corrupting white smoke with the red smoke dogday used to had become pink and this smoke is worse than red smoke.

the pink smoke doesn't make you sleep but it easily makes you fall into an illusion that makes it difficult to know what is real or not. makinng easy to dogday and catnap kill the prey or "heretics"

dogday can withstand the red smoke now but he is mentally and emotionally unstable making easy to catnap or 1006 manipulate him and triggering Red Dogday appear to attack

dogday since he lost his friends and only having as friend catnap made it easier for him to join to 1006

each time dogday feel sad or broken he talk with catnap or 1006 to feels better and no alone

Dogday has a trauma where he felt he should do the best when the Playco workers asked him to. But since they are dead he now does his best for 1006 to keep the site safe.

catnap no kill dogdays friends cause he was waiting to sacrifice them for 1006 few to few there they still alive

each time they escape or try to talk to dogday catnap put to asleep both and then messing with dogday's mentally about them be dead until he believe it even if this made him sad for a whole day

to the end of this comic player escape with bobby and hoppy with poppy to the other level from the factory

the only ones are dead by catnap and dogday were bubba, kickin, picky and craftycorn.

dogday don't believe he kill his own friends he all time believe is defending the place from rebels toys or how catnap like to call them heretics

dogday gets very angry when the red smoke mades him see illusions about his friends being there when needs attack other toys, the only way to believe he is into a illusion is catnap who tell him what is front him because he believe catnap is no affected badly by the red smoke as he can be

if you notice theres a panel where dogday is cryig whiles is chasig his own friends this mean he is a little aware of what he is doing but he doesn't understand why these illusions made those rebels toys take the form of his friends.

you can see more about my art on my other social media

patreon - Deviantart - youtube -instagram - twitter - kofi - webtoon - Tiktok - comissions

[gothicknightz]

family ties | ethan landry

notes: oh boy you guys are gonna like this one. VERY MAJOR SCREAM SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!!!!!!!!!! I cannot get any more specific than that.

part 2 out now!

When she moved to New York with her best friend, they both had planned on getting an average college education, having fun, and graduating. 

That was it.

Why couldn’t it have been that simple?

The four of them were stranded in the abandoned lobby of the theatre when Sam had gotten a call from the Detective, claiming that he had done some digging into Kirby and that she was let go from the FBI a couple of months ago for being mentally unstable, and he believes she is the killer.

She quickly turned her attention towards Sam, “What?�� She snapped, her arm still wrapped up from her paired attack alongside Mindy on the subway. 

Putting a foot down, she crossed her arms, “There’s no way we can stay here.” Attempted to try the entrance in which they came in, to find out it was locked, “Shit.” She turned around quickly to face the, “It’s locked.”

The group frantically looked for a way out of the theatre, as they weren’t going to be trapped with the possible killers. Tara had noticed some sort of fire escape, but that wasn’t until Ghostface appeared and attacked the group, which they fought back. 

Chad decided it was a good time to be a hero, as he fought against Ghostface so that the girls could run. This proved to be a bad decision for him, as a second Ghostface came up and started stabbing alongside the other before ushering the trio back into the theatre.

As the five of them make their way back into the theatre, Kirby suddenly reappears out of nowhere and claims that she was knocked out by two Ghostfaces, but the trio can’t trust her after the Detective’s claims, who arrives subsequently after Kirby.

After what seemed to be a battle for trust, the Detective shoots Kirby, revealing himself as the third killer.

(y/n) screams as she was the closest, her heart racing in anticipation, afraid of what was going to happen next when the other two Ghostfaces de-mask themselves. Subsequently, after the Detective reveals himself to be the third killer, the Ghostface wearing Nancy Loomis’ mask revealed himself.

It was Ethan, (y/n)’s best friend. The friend she had planned on getting a college education and graduating with. The friend she had known for years, the friend who was responsible for their firsts.

Somebody she had trusted.

It was then revealed that Quinn was the final Ghostface, much to everyone’s shock, as they had seen and heard of the brutal murder Quinn had endowed.

The trio was cornered at each end by the three killers, with Sam slowly connecting the pieces that all three of the killers were related to none other than Richie Kirsch, one of the killers of the Woodboro Massacre in 2022.

As the trio was attacked and coerced back to the center of the theatre by the killers, the Detective sighed, “It wasn’t until I saw that photograph of what you had actually done to him, that I knew.”

“That I knew you had to fucking die- that you had to be punished, along with anyone else who stands in our way.”

Pushed and insulted by Quinn, Sam, and Tara were forced to stand in front of the Detective, with Ethan taking hold of (y/n), and holding a knife to her throat.

As the Detective went on about how he indulged in his son’s love for the Stab movies, and how they were a bit dark for him, he explained that there was no deeper bond than of a father and his firstborn.

“Despite the loss of Richie, I couldn’t have been happier after learning of a new addition to our family.”

The look on both the sisters’ faces was beyond puzzled as they watched the detective make grandiose gestures as he waved the gun in (y/n)’s direction.

“I knew it was a bit young for those two to get hitched, but,” the Detective paused, taking a breath for a brief smile, “She made it a lot easier to get us in here, and I’ve never been more proud of a future daughter in law, right (y/n)?”

The Carpenter sisters had another round of fear and shock as they turned their heads to one of the closest friends the gang had had, with even Mindy trusting them.

(y/n) was breaking away from a kiss with Ethan as Tara and Sam watched them in awe, the girl breaking into a fit of giggles and a content sigh.

“You know, Sam,” She said, turning towards the illegitimate daughter of the original Ghostface with her boyfriend slash fiance’s knife in hand, “You should really save the date.” She took a swing at the eldest Carpenter sister and laughed.

“Because it does fucking run in the family.”

[changedbandito]

Us. (characters introduction)

Hello, I am the middle man, named Stevebrine. That is my persona or self insert so to say. My online presence/appearance is him but you can still just call me Steve in conversations. He is meant to be such a basic looking guy, its intentional.

The other 2 around me are personified, generalised and representative of my different thoughts and emotion.

On my right, your left, is representative of my negative thoughts emotions, actions and more. He's name is Negative (i know, how original)

On my left, your right, is basically the polar opposite, basically representing all my positive things, named Positive (I know, how original)

As you can clearly tell the generic devil and angel designs, they are very obvious what they represent. Black and red colours, white and blue colours... yea its simple. Its meant to be simple.

------------------------------------------------

They are very real in my head. They are the voices I hear, creatures that lead me. I created them since I was 10, and they have been growing with me. They are presentative of my unstable mental state, my mental health and much deeper problems. My emotions are mostly driven and controlled by Negative while my understanding of things in logical ways are more of what Positive could at least control. I created them to allow me to understand myself more, to express myself and to explain myself through art. I mostly draw them fighting, representing this constraint endless quiet battles I've had to deal for a looooong time. Its all in my head, yea. And me, being Stevebrine, is caught in the crossfire, constantly controlled and tortured by Negative while fighting his claws to help Positive while he tries his best to save me.

But I know, even if we somehow "defeat" Negative, I could never escape, as there are traces of both of them in me as they literally made up who I am (just look at the eyes). I am shaped by them but they are still my won creation that I've lost control. They were meant to be under my control, I was meant to be the king of this kingdom but i was just too̸̳̖̍͝ ̵̨̀̿͂͜f̸̛̥͔̮̀͗Ŭ̴̗͍Ć̷̞̋K̸̨͚̆I̶̹̤͋͝N̷͈͒̈G̴͇͎͍̽ ̸̢̒W̴̞͉̔̔̚E̶͚̍Ą̷̱͙̅͑K̷̛̖̀......but I was just a child, how would I have known.

------------------------------------------------

Anyways, this was just meant to be a simple surface level of introduction. I aint gonna dump 10 years worth of lore on here. I will simply tell you we live in a metaphorical forest, where every tree is a memory and every blade of grass is time passed. I, Stevebrine, has a treehouse built on the tallest and strongest tree with Positive's help. But there is a constraint and raging forest fire that engulfed at least half of the forest already, and Negative is spreading it. And whenever their battles gets too intense, the whole forest turns into a void but will return when it gets less intense.

*Also, they aren't all serious at times, sometimes the treat me like their bros. We do goof around, I mean with been stuck together for life.

These are all metaphors. I been growing this world since I was 7. Even before forest came out, which is why that's my favourite Twenty One Pilots song.

If you are curious about whatever that's going on in this head of mine, ask away, I will try to answer them.

Thank you for reading :)

i will remake a reference sheet for them soon

[myrddinmirror]

The Lost Treasure Theory

A far-fetched detective investigation in ten parts. Conspiracies, secret places, mysterious signs… and a missing treasure.

Introduction

Let's imagine the first season as a heavy rock that stands firmly, and the third season as something that is hidden in the fog. The second season turned out to be strange, with many hints, vaguenesses, mirrors (in which everyone sees something different) and lines hanging in the air (some people call them Chekhov’s guns). I like to think of it as a wobbly rope bridge connecting the first season to the third. It is stretched over an abyss, at the bottom of which the sharp stones of fan kinks and fetishes await, it is strewn with glass shards of the spectator's hearts, and anyone who steps on it will inevitably slip on wet traces of tears of those who tried to pass here before. The wind of unbridled fantasies coming from the ocean of theories shakes this already unstable bridge, making the task of preserving the mental equilibrium and the ability to reason almost impossible for any impressionable traveler. My investigation rests on very ephemeral grounds, so I try to hold on as tightly as possible to the nearly invisible railing that Neil handed out for us. I cling to any available clue, trying not to fall into the abyss, and after each careful step I freeze for a while and catch my breath. Everything around is hidden in mist.

Part 1. Conspiracy

Let's take a closer look at the scene of Gabriel's trial (1).

-I see. You're casting me down to Hell. Well, I accept my fate. Sometimes an angel just has to say, "Guys, enough."

Gabriel is absolutely calm. This is not at all sudden for him. He was ready for the Fall and doesn't mind. Why? Because Beelzebub is waiting for him in Hell, everything is fine. Probably, the couple agreed in advance that they would not stay in Hell, but would immediately escape when they had no other choice.

-You are not going to Hell.

We look closely at the changing expression on Gabriel's face as the Metatron reads out his sentence.

He's nervous, he thinks fast. And judging by how quickly he figured out what to do, he's not as stupid as he seems. Or he already had a PLAN thought out in advance for such a case.

-These clothes are tailored. Can I keep wearing them?

It would seem that this is not the most relevant question right now. But he pursues several goals at once: a) to distract attention (see, I’m an idiot and only think about clothes) b) we know that he has a Fly in his suit c) he guesses that they will answer him, and he needs an excuse to materialize the Big Box and not arouse suspicion.

-Well, I'll just need to take off my clothes and clean out my desk, then. I'll be right back.

We can feel the relief in his voice and he smiles again. Now let's move on to the final conversation with Beelzebub (2).

-You. Thank you. -Silly, silly angel. Why? -I was coming to you, but… I… forgot.

Looks like they actually had a plan. Why does Beelzebub give him the Container Fly? They could not help but realize that sooner or later either their relationship would be detected, or he would be punished for refusing to start Armageddon. The fly was part of the plan. Most likely, "Thank you" was said precisely for this gift. But if Beelzebub assumed that Gabriel would reset his memory, then what does "Why" mean? Why did you come to the bookstore? Why didn't you come to me (as we agreed)? "I was going (was going to go) to you, but my memory was already in the fly, so I forgot where I had to go".

(1) 12:47 Ep.6 (2) 28:10 Ep.6

Part 2. The box is heavy - the box is empty

Naked Gabriel with a box in his hands walks down the street to the bookstore. We are clearly shown that he did not arrive in the elevator that materializes in the Dirty Donkey (1).

Is that a hint that he was somewhere else on Earth before he came to Soho? Let's remember. Let's fast forward to Gabriel's first conversation with Aziraphale (2):

-My arms were aching 'cause I had to carry that box for so long.

Where he was? Why did his hands hurt? One fly doesn't hurt anyone's hands. One fly doesn’t need a BIG box. At first, I had the idea that someone stole "the thing" from the box while it was outside the store door, but this is not the case. If one looks closely at how Gabriel carries it one can see that he barely holds it in his palms (3).

Later he throws it at the front door (4) and it is quite obvious that it is empty and light. Well, let's move on to Gabriel's escape from Heaven (5):

14:50 - he puts a matchbox with a fly in an empty box, leaves the box under the camera and goes somewhere 15:07 - he is undressed and carries the box easily (i.e. it is still empty, so he did not put his clothes in there, for example) 15:10 - he is in front of the elevator, reaching for a matchbox with a fly (his memory is still with him), and the box already seems heavy, he has to hold it by the bottom.

He pulls the fly out, losing the matchbox. 15:18 - he is in the elevator, elbowing the Earth button. He's holding the box with both hands, and he's gripping it with his fingers because it's obviously HEAVY.

While he is going down in the elevator, his memory resets, since Saraqael does not see him on Earth. 15:32 - it turns out that Gabriel does not have a desk, so he could not take anything from it. Whatever he put in the box is not his personal belongings. So he took something, then forgot about it, then… lost it?

(1) 14:18 Ep.1 (2) 19:00 Ep.1 (3) 14:08, 14:30 Ep.1 (4) 14:57 Ep.1 (5) Ep.6

Part 3: Insurance and a Reliable Plan

So what the Archangel took was not his personal item and hardly a souvenir. It’s something really important. Realizing that with the memory cleansing he would essentially lose himself, Gabriel had to take something to protect him. What about emergency insurance? In case you get caught? Crowley, if you remember, had holy water as an insurance against Hell - a demon-threatening thing that can both save and destroy. What could be so useful and possibly so terrible to other angels that Gabriel could take with him? It could be either a very powerful artifact, or it could be an important dossier, like compromising someone from the Archangels. There is a lot to speculate about, but let’s start with the fact that, as in a good detective, authors always give the viewer some clue. What is so important, so significant in the series that you might consider a good prize for an Archangel on the run? I think you have already guessed that I mean the Book of Life. Gabriel and Beelzebub had a great plan. They were supposed to meet secretly while they could, and then run off with the Book. If Gabriel had been brought down to Hell, it would have been easy, and in case of force majeure, he had a fly. It is obvious that both the Archangel and the Prince of Hell are well aware of the punishment of erasing the memory. A fly is a container for memory, a gift that matters. Of course, the plan did not involve any bookstore. Who in their right mind would entrust themselves and the Book of Life to the "traitor" whom you just recently ordered to be killed? It is also obvious that it would be very unwise for a naked Archangel with a big box to take the elevator down to the hall of Hell. Therefore, the plan was very simple: Gabriel gets to a familiar bar in Scotland, Beelzebub learns about his disappearance and goes there. Then they go off into the sunset together. Happy End. However, in the world of Good Omens, nothing can go according to plan. As they say, watch your hands. The Almighty again lays out three cards. And now the boy… I mean, the Book is lost, and the fugitive is missing. How did this happen? Let's think about what Gabriel had left when the fly reset his memory in the elevator. He still has an idea of himself ("I’m me. I just don’t know who me is") and he still has his angelic powers. Angels can feel love. He forgot Beelzebub, forgot the bar, and when you don’t remember anything, you get instincts. Angels have no instincts, so he was led by a sense of love. Very strong, truly great. He might have ended up in Tadfield, but Adam is still powerful(1), so Tadfield is closed to outsiders. And where else in Britain there is a knock-down love? We all know where (2). Gabriel came to the bookstore, Aziraphale, whom he vaguely remembered (3), opened the door, and for lack of a better one, the Archangel thought that it was him he was going to (4). An ordinary cock-up, as Crowley would say.

(1) 10:37 Ep.1 Crowley sits on a bench reading the Tadfield Advertiser. On the first page is a large article "According to voters of latest: "Best Village in England" poll Tadfield really is the loveliest place to live." And on the blue background: "Entirely perfect weather AGAIN for Tadfield".

(2) 20:25 ep.1 "You’re funny. I love you." A farting song emerged from the overfed zombie, and confessions emerged from Gabriel. Overflowed, too much love. (3) 14:57 Ep.1 "Hey you!" (4) 17:07 Ep.1 -You don't recognize me? -No. Sorry. -Then… why did you come to my shop? -I don't know. I just thought I should. You know what it's like when you don't know anything at all, and yet you're totally certain that everything would be better if you were just near one particular person? … I had to come here and give you the thing.

Part 4. Lying or not?

I’m no brain scientist, but when Gabriel comes to the bookstore, he’s acting like a real memory-loss person. You believe that he doesn’t know who he is, where he is, or what he’s doing here. He has the reactions and behavior of a curious child. At the same time, he has a vague sense of anxiety, as well as a vague sense of recognition of Aziraphale, and it all seems quite natural. However, at some point I began to think Gabriel was lying. To begin with, he suddenly stopped having questions, he no longer asks: who am I? How do you know me? Who are you? What the hell is going on here? A person who has lost his memory is only interested in bookselling and gravity, seriously? Review the episodes listed. Don’t you think the same as I think?

-And now I will make a noise when I move around (1).

He is the outspoken troll of Aziraphale, grins and walks away, very pleased with himself, it is clear. Not a child, but a smug bastard.

Aziraphale talks to the Archangels on the street in front of the bookstore (2). The door swings open and Gabriel appears, loudly and joyfully declaring that he is Jim, the bookseller's assistant. Why would a memory-losing person who knows he’s in danger of something terrible, rush out into the street so loudly in front of strangers? Maybe because this is Gabriel-with-memory, who, of course, recognized the visitors, realized that a hidden miracle of great power had been created, and now just checks the boundaries? When the miracle passes the final test (Michael does not recognize Gabriel at point-blank range), he mocks the angels:

-What about me? Uh, guys, shouldn’t you keep a close eye on me too?

Typical Gabriel's insolence and self-confidence.

There is an idea that you cannot punish an angel outside of Heaven. After all, in the first season, Aziraphale had to be kidnapped first and then executed. This means that Gabriel, who has regained his memory, must realize that on Earth, with all his powers, he is practically invulnerable. This is indirectly confirmed in episode 6, when representatives of Hell and Heaven demand that the escapees be handed over to them. It would seem, here they are, punish on the spot. With humans, by the way, there is no such problem, only Crowley’s intervention saves Maggie and Nina from immediately turning into salt pillars. But maybe Gabriel is just a very brash son of a bitch.

There are also more obvious signs that the fugitive is okay in the head:

You can't fool Crowley that easily (3). He listens very carefully to Gabriel’s nonsense and says:

-Ah, you can do better than that. Come on, think! Think hard!

I think at this point, the Archangel realizes it’s better not to push Crowley, he "shines" his eyes and pop out a biblical phrase. Think about it, if ALL his memory is in a fly, where did this piece come from? Well, the trick was a success, and they are leaving him behind.

The prophecy of the Second Coming (4) is coming out of Gabriel. Is this a conscious attempt to warn? Or a random trigger on the word "tempest"? The only thing that’s clear is he’s got his memory back.

Conversation with Crowley (5):

-You have no idea of trouble you’re causing, do you? -No. Or yes. Or… no. -Year. I’ll tell you something Jim, or Gabriel. If any harm comes to Aziraphale because of this, I will…

And Gabriel is listening. VERY carefully. And he looks like he understands everything.

Crowley arrives in the Archangel’s room (6). The demon openly attacks. Gabriel is frankly nervous. When Crowley says that Aziraphale was not at the execution, Gabriel surprisingly asks "He wasn’t there?". Not the kind of reaction you’d expect from someone who doesn’t know what you’re talking about, is it? And it’s no less strange when Gabriel almost jumps out of a second-floor window. For a person, with or without memory, these are guaranteed injuries (the floor is high, and the bottom is asphalt), and the act is absolutely senseless. The archangel is not in any danger of such a jump, but it is a great way to avoid a very unpleasant conversation. Crowley then demands that Gabriel remember. He replies:

-I don’t have my memory. -Well, where is your memory, then? -In a matchbox. No, I took it out, first. And I put it in the box and brought it here. And it’s everywhere.

First, how do you know all this? Second, what do you mean, everywhere? It’s not in the fly anymore? You don’t want to admit you already got it back, do you?

I have an idea why the memory (partially) might have leaked back into Gabriel's head. And also why he’s not in a hurry to get away from the store when Heaven is already on his heels.

(1) 06:25 Ep.2 (2) 12:45 Ep.2 (3) 20:54 Ep.2 (4) 38:45 Ep.3 (5) 41:35 Ep.3 (6) 14:20 Ep.5

Part 5. Memory Leak

If we consider ourselves sufficiently convinced that the Archangel is no longer as unconscious as he wants to appear, we will have to look for some moment when his memory may have returned. The first assumption. Several times we see that Gabriel tried to catch the fly, and that it often circles around him. The interaction with it may have caused a partial leak, but we’re not seeing any specific episode. Second assumption. It was a side effect from "the tiniest, most insubstantial, fractional, half a miracle". The chair Gabriel was sitting on was on a portal to Heaven. Crowley, Gabriel, and Aziraphale were holding hands, and the miracle was directed at the Archangel, so that a huge power passed right through him. I mean, some kind of electroshock therapy. And immediately after the miracle there was such a dialogue (1):

Aziraphale: Good news, Jim. Nobody’s going to notice you. You’re safe here. Crowley: While we figure out what’s actually going on. Gabriel: I think I know what’s going on.

And I think your memory is partially coming back to you, but you really need to keep it a secret.

In Ep.6 we see what memories actually return to Gabriel from the fly, and there is nothing about the Beginning nor about 6000 years of service as the Supreme Archangel, and only briefly the events of the Armageddon't (2). Gabriel truly remembers only the most dangerous, most well-encrypted moments of his life - his relationship with Beelzebub. Everything about their feelings and the alleged conspiracy, including the theft of the artifact. Why did he not leave the bookstore? Because he did not remember the reasons why Heaven sought him, he did not remember Beelzebub. But he knew that he was in some terrible danger. And where should he run? Here he is protected, cared for - but only as long as he pretends to be a helpless fool. However, there is one thing that is so powerful in itself that it affects Gabriel even when he has forgotten about it. The Book.

(1) 41:50 Ep.1 (2) Of course, maybe this doesn’t matter, the authors just didn’t have enough timing, but we agreed at the beginning that we would consider the script well thought out, right? If it is written poorly, then such theories make no sense at all.

Part 6. Hide a tree in the forest

So, it’s not even matter if Gabriel remembers something about his previous life or not. The catch is that the Book disappeared between the memory erasing in the elevator and his appearance in the bookstore (i.e. this piece is not recorded in the fly), and this period remained with Gabriel only in the form of vague sensations. He carried the box somewhere for a long time, his hands hurt… the rest is unknown. When the Archangel walked along Whickber Street, the box was already empty, so there is no Book in the store. However, if you don’t know or remember this detail, you might think it’s there. It’s a very logical decision to hide a book among books, right? And guess what? There are at least three person looking for the book in the series, and all three of them think Aziraphale has it somewhere. The trap of the obvious. Let’s start with Gabriel. Yes, he doesn’t remember it, but he’s looking for it. I don’t know why. Perhaps it would be appropriate here to recall Octavo (1) and other Terry Pratchett grimoires with the ability to strangely influence people. There are two things in the series that indirectly indicate this search. First of all, a very strange thing Gabriel found himself doing in the store: placing books by the first letter of the first word in the first sentence (2). Occupation, at first glance, the most absurd. But! Aziraphale’s permission allows Gabriel to open all the books without raising any question or suspicion. He doesn’t remember what the Book of Life looks like, but he obviously recognizes it when he starts reading. The second point is the dialogue about gravity (4). Yes, here again, we’re paying attention to the fly, but at the beginning it’s about the books not staying where Gabriel puts them. Maybe it’s a hint like, "I remember putting the book in the box, but now it’s gone, where could it have gone?"

(1) Octavo - A Magic Book that the Creator himself has forgotten on Discworld. It contains the Eight Great Spells, which have their own consciousness and are designed to help the Discworld in important situations. The book is located in a specially sealed room in the basement of the Unseen University's library chained to a lectern, for safety of the browsers, not the book. The wizard Rincewind who had once accessed the Book, read it, and one of the Spells, the Change Spell, settled in him, preventing Rincewind from ever learning any other magic. (2) 06:05 Ep.2 -What exactly are you doing? -I thought I'd make the books easier to find, so I thought if I put them in alphabetical order… -By author? -What's "author"? (3) No, I was shelving the books by the first letter of the first sentence. (3) He really may not know this, because the only book he knows has an obvious "author". (4) 16:17 Ep.3 Gabriel drops the book on the table. Crowley says it's gravity, it needs things to stay where they are ("So things would stay where you put them, not just drift off".) -But it doesn't stay where I put them. It goes down (5). Except for flies, they go up. (5) It is still possible to speculate a little bit that the book dangling in space near Crowley when he launched the nebulae was the Book of Life, and it certainly did not fall anywhere. This idea is interesting because it could suddenly take off in the third season if Neil decides to somehow develop the plot about the Book.

Part 7. Saraqael

The second investigator is Saraqael. She’s the head of Heaven’s security, an angel who needs to know everything but prefers to stay in the shadows. She is so underhanded that Gabriel has difficulty remembering her name (1). I believe that she was the one who provided the compromising images of Aziraphale from the Earth in the first season. And unlike the other Archangels, she immediately recognized the Metatron in human form (2) .

Neil wrote (3) that Saraqael does some secret things in the second season, and is also an angel you do not want to mess with. I would point out that it is she who executes the sentences like erasing memory or turning humans into salt pillars, i.e. she has real power and authority in Heaven. We are not shown what "secret things" Saraqael does, which means that it is not about some covert actions per se, but about motives. The secret motive is to find the lost Book of Life without anyone in Heaven or Hell knowing it was missing. Besides, the Book’s disappearance is extremely enough to force her out of the shadows. Saraqael doesn’t seem to believe for a second that Aziraphale himself performed a powerful miracle, and it is she who sends to him an inspector, and in fact a spy: a naïve angel who sniffs out at the bookshelves all the time. It is possible that Muriel reporting to Saraqael separately on everything that’s going on in the bookstore. When Crowley sneaks into Heaven, Saraqael spots him, but doesn’t stop him. Why? Because she’s running a similar investigation herself, and it is extremely important to her that the insightful demon notices something interesting. Much more important than just turning on the alarm. Saraqael prefers to keep her mouth shut for the last general conversation, but she listens very carefully to what others have to say, and I think she will give us more surprises in the third season.

(1) 27:52 Ep.6 (2) from 34:00 Ep.6 (3) answering questions

Part 8. The Metatron

It will be very funny if in the third season it turns out that the Voice of the Almighty all this time was the only positive character from the side of Heaven all along and sincerely wished good to our angel and demon. In the meantime, we can assume he’s the third investigator on the missing artifact. No proof, of course, but there are some observations. The Metatron, entering the bookstore, hears Michael's threats to erase Aziraphale from the Book of Life and gets very, very angry (1). It can be assumed that it was precisely the words about the Book that enraged him, and not about the actual powers of Michael, because in fact, she really is now performing the duties of the Supreme Archangel. What if the overreaction is caused by the fact that he is aware of the loss and absolutely does not want to draw attention to the Book once again? By shutting Michael up and sending the angels to Heaven, he shuts down the discussion about the Book before it even begins. He asks Muriel to stay ("except the dim one"), saying: "I may need you". That is, at this point he is not yet sure that his plan will work. Of course there is a plan. Many say that the Metatron thought to separate Aziraphale and Crowley, because on Earth they are said to be a danger to Heaven. And supposedly he was sure that Crowley would refuse the offer. But isn’t it much more dangerous to give Aziraphale enormous power? What if Crowley agreed? No one set the condition that there is only one attempt. What if the demon suffers a few days alone and changes his mind? Since the Metatron was watching Aziraphale, and he openly mentions it (2), then he must know that Crowley ALWAYS returns to the angel. So, it seems to me, the plan was exactly the opposite: to drag them both to Heaven, where firstly they would be under constant control, and secondly, they would have neither the time nor the opportunity to endlessly wander around the store. It is for this case that the "naïve" Muriel is needed, who, as it turns out, just successfully addicted to reading books (3). She remains the "caretaker" of the bookstore, but at the same time she can carry out a "stocktaking", and no one will ask why she is scouring the shelves so diligently? When the Metatron returns for Aziraphale and discovers that Crowley has refused, he seems more vexed than satisfied (4). And then he asks: "Anything you need to take with you?" and glances quickly towards the bookshelves. When the angel answers "No", he makes a strange sound (5). I think this could be a test - does Aziraphale know something about the Book, is he hiding it in the store? Maybe he will somehow give himself away now? No? Well, we'll look without you. There is one more thought. As the Metatron takes Aziraphale away to talk, he glares at Crowley (6). Many have decided that he has something personal against the demon. Perhaps, but we have not yet been shown anything that could serve at least a hint of reason. But if we assume that the Voice of God is looking for the Book, and Crowley is one of the few who knows what it looks like, because with its help he "launched" the Universe (7) (not the fact that this is the same Book), then the look becomes clear: the Metatron may fear that the demon has pocketed it or is ready to pocket it for himself on occasion.

(1) 33:56 Ep.6 -You're talking utter balderdash. I mean, complete piffle! You don't have the authority to do anything like that. … Right, you, you, you, back to Heaven, spit, spot, not another word. (2) 42:28 Ep.6 (3) 40:23 Ep.6 -What's that you're holding, Muriel? -I'm reading a book. -Excellent! What a perfectly splendid thing to do! (4) 47:47 Ep.6 (5) 48:19 Ep.6 (6) 36:14 Ep.6 (7) 01:13 Ep.1

Part 9. Secret place

Do you remember in Part 3 of this theory, three cards were mentioned on the Almighty’s gaming table? The first card is a bar with a jukebox in Edinburgh, a secret rendezvous between Gabriel and Beelzebub, a place where the conspiracy was ripe and where the memory-deprived Archangel with the heavy box was likely to come. The second card is a bookstore in Soho, a place of strong love, where the Book could be so safely hidden if someone brought it there. And now the time has come to reveal the last card - the place where, perhaps, the Book of Life was actually hidden. I’ll start a bit from afar. As Gabriel drank hot chocolate on the first day of the rest of his life, he said to Aziraphale:

-I'm me. I just don't know who me is. But you know me. You recognized me. -I know someone who LOOKS like you. -That's probably me then. I think that's one of the main ways you can tell (1).

I think you know where I’m going with this. There’s one place on Earth Gabriel loves more than anything else combined. The place where he spent his hours admiring (2) what he held most dear in the world. If an angel can be attracted by a feeling of intense love, then, of course, for Gabriel it will first of all be a monument to himself in the Edinburgh graveyard. It’s scary to imagine how many total years he spent there. An egoist and a narcissist, to whom could he entrust the most powerful and dangerous artifact? Obviously, only to himself. The statue is mentioned 3 times in the series (3). And it's also in the opening credits. I don’t believe that all this is just for the sake of one joke against Gabriel. In part 4 of the theory, which talked about the possible restoration of the fugitive Archangel's memory, or at least about some flashes of enlightenment, I deliberately kept silent about one more episode. It happened at the moment when Aziraphale called Crowley from Edinburgh right from that very graveyard and happily reported on the hard work done. Among other things, he said, "Do you remember the statue of Gabriel in the graveyard? I’m looking at it now." An unnecessary detail, what does it have to do with the bar? None, but Gabriel heard these words, and we are shown how he, seemingly in deep thought or even in a stupor, suddenly reacts (4). Does it really matter? God knows. Now you have to ask: but we don’t see any Book at the statue, where exactly could Gabriel have put it? We are given two clues. First: the statue either has a large cross in its hands, or it doesn’t.

Given that the statue is not CGI and the props were installing it in the graveyard, there’s very little chance it’s a mistake. It looks like a sign. Just look at this:

Cross marks the location of buried treasures, right? There is a second clue. We’ll talk about that in the final part of the investigation.

(1) 16:46 Ep.1 (2) 24:45 Ep.6 (3) First time in 1827: Crowley showed it to Aziraphale (09:01 Ep.3). Second time: Aziraphale comes to Edinburgh to investigate (34:03 Ep.3). Third time: Gabriel showed it to Beelzebub (Ep.6). (4) 35:20 Ep.3

Part 10. Ben Gunn

In one of the posters for the series, Treasure Island is in a stack of books to read.

If you remember, there was a map with a cross. But when the pirates arrived at the designated place, the treasure was gone. Some clever guy (by the way, "retired" by his side) solved the puzzle, dug up and hid the valuable prize. We know that Aziraphale (our "retired pirate") is brilliant smart. Not knowing why the fugitive Archangel was in danger, he could draw his conclusions from the facts he had. So, Gabriel has a box in which he carried something heavy for a long time. He is in danger from Heaven - for what? Because he stole something very valuable. Jim looks with frightening enthusiasm at the books in the store, strange for the Archangel, who earlier called a book just a "material object" (1), right?

Knowing what artifacts are in Heaven, it is not difficult to deduce what was in the box. Further, having analyzed the dialogue with Gabriel ("I’m me"), knowing his love for himself, remembering the statue (namely, one of the most exciting episodes in Aziraphale’s life began with it) and getting a CLUE in the form of a song from the Edinburgh bar (the statue is located right there!) the angel only had to go and check his hunch. We have a hint. When Aziraphale leaves the Bentley in Edinburgh, he has a briefcase (2). What could he have stored in it? He puts a pen and a notebook in his pocket. From his pocket he also takes out a portrait of Gabriel (the briefcase is on the floor at this time). Aziraphale didn't spend the night at a hotel and doesn't need a change. Apparently the briefcase was empty. The angel leaves the bar with a briefcase and we never see it again. And so he stands at the graveyard and looks at the statue. He looks strange, thinking about something (3).

Why did he come here? This place has nothing to do with the bar and the song. He could have called Crowley from any other location. Showing a moment of nostalgia is very expensive for extremely limited screen time. Therefore, all this has a separate meaning. By the way, at this moment there is a cross on the statue, but there is no briefcase with Aziraphale (4).

But it seems there is a FRESH HOLE in the ground right next to the statue (5). That second clue.

Well, here’s the thing: Aziraphale found the Book, took it, put it in the briefcase and hid it on the same graveyard in a crypt we know. Exactly the same way as Ben Gunn hid the treasure, moving it from the original location to the cave. The crypt is the perfect hiding place. No one knows about it (except the Masons?), but it is a very memorable place for Crowley (the demon immediately recalls the story of Wee Morag as soon as Aziraphale SPECIFICALLY mentions the surgeon). It is extremely dangerous to take the Book to London: the Archangels are trampling around the bookstore, and on his way to Edinburgh, Shax broke into the car. Right now neither the angel nor the demon needs the Book, but it is easy to take away if needed (6). I have no doubt that Crowley KNOWS where the Book actually is. This alone explains his absolute calm when Michael proceeds to a direct threat to immediately apply the "Extreme Sanctions" (7). And the Metatron, who at that moment enters the bookstore, sees and hears everything.

He can't help but realize that both Crowley and Aziraphale KNOW. That’s one of the reasons why he’s so alarmed and casts such a stiff stare at Crowley, who is calmly lounging in a chair. He knows, but he can't do anything yet. The big game is just beginning.

(1) 00:48 S1Ep.2 (2) 21:22 Ep.3 (3) 34:02-34:08 Ep.3 (4) 36:37 Ep.3 (5) 36:54 Ep.3 (6) Neil mentioned that Aziracrow can move between locations by miracle, they just don’t like to do it because they’re used to imitating people. (7) 33:41 Ep.6

[yourlocaltrashcan657]

Mental Hospital AU! Yandere! Attack on Titan x Female Reader ~| Jean Ending |~

“Y/N!” Jean called out before engulfing her into his arms. “I’m so sorry I left you! I’ll never do it again! I promise you! I was just going to see where Marco went.”

“I’m glad you’re okay Jean.” Y/N said before patting his back. “I need to get you to a room so that you are safe.”

”W-What?! No no! Please, I’m begging you no!” Jean pleaded. “You and I need to find Marco! The three of us can escape then-“

”You didn’t find him.?!” Y/N asked.

”N-no. I went to Ward 4 and I couldn’t find him anywhere. That must mean he escaped, right?” Jean asked full of hope.

”Let’s go to the emergency exits. That way we can go outside and see where all of the doctors and nurses are.” Y/N suggested.

”What happens if we run into Reiner and Bertolt?” Jean asked as he furrowed his eyebrows at their names.

”What do you mean? If we get out, the police can deal with them-“ Y/N began to say.

”Y/N, they have forces from outside! What’s to say that they aren’t outside the building right now?! They could take you!” Jean said as he shook Y/N.

”Calm down! Why would they want to take me.?” Y/N asked curiously.

”All of the patients in Ward 1 are obsessed with you! Heck, even I’m obsessed with you!” Jean admitted. “The first time i saw you I thought you’re some sort of Goddess.. I’m not surprised those bastards thought the same.”

”Jean, are you trying to say that I have a whole Ward of unstable patients hunting me down?!?” Y/N asked in shock.

“It doesn’t matter Y/N! You have me and as long as I’m here, not a single one of those idiots will lay a finger on you.” Jean said as he gently held her hand and looked down at her.

Looking up, Y/N looked into his brown eyes and saw genuine care within him. The lights around them flickered on and off and distant screams could be heard in the distance but none of that mattered. For once, she acknowledged the tiny details on his face, body and even hands.

”Jean..! We have to leave now.” Y/N muttered as she dragged him away.

”Wait.! I’m not having you waste your energy.” Jean said as he stoped her from running and got on his knee. “Get on my back, it’ll be easier.”

”I don’t know about this.. I’m pretty heavy for you-“ Y/N started to say.

”No your not! You’re perfect just the way you are Y/N, I don’t care what you think badly about yourself.” Jean said before looking down and blushing.

Y/N got onto his back, wrapped her legs around his waist and let her arms hang around his chest. Jean ran for while as Y/N directed him and soon they made it to the cafeteria.

”We can go through the exit through the cafeteria, Jean.” Y/N said as Jean opened the door.

Walking in, Jean saw a group of people huddled in the corner. Instantly, he recognised Reiner and Bertolt. Turning back, he nearly bumped into a tall, blonde teenager, who had a facial expression holding many emotions. 

“Please.” Jean whispered quietly to him. “I need to get her to safety.”

”I’m s-sorry. You already know what Reiner is like. If I don’t listen to him, they’ll kill my brother.” The blonde sobbed out.

”Colt..! Please, Ymir told me about you.” Y/N whispered quietly. “We can get you and your brother out of here-“

”You can’t.” Colt sobbed out a bit louder as he backed them into the Cafeteria. “Reiner and Bertolt have nearly blocked off all exits. They’ll find us either way.”

Eventually, the two were in sight of the group in the corner. Reiner and Bertolt looked at Y/N, who was tired, and soon looked much happier. 

“Good job Colt! It seems as though Connie couldn’t find Y/N, but you found her! Along with Jean…” Reiner said to Colt, who had already rushed towards his younger brother.

”Reiner you sick bastard. You’ve put the whole hospital in danger because of wanting to get a few seconds of freedom.” Jean said as he stepped back a bit.

”No, I put the whole hospital in danger so I can have Y/N for the rest of my life.” Reiner corrected.

”R-Reiner, what about my share of the deal? You said I could have Y/N too..” Bertolt asked.

”Loot at you guys! You’re all sickos! Acting as if Y/N is some sort of toy or prize to be won!” Jean yelled as he looked for the exit.

”Reiner, Bertolt. Hurry up and get the girl, we are leaving.” Annie muttered.

”A-Annie.! You can’t be seriously siding with them.?! You’re a nice person, I know it. You must be doing it against your will, right?” Y/N asked.

Annie gave the cold shoulder and walked towards Pieck, another one of Ymir’s patients. Porco handed Bertolt some sort of drug and walked off with Zeke and the two girls as they started preparing bags.

”Y/N, I don’t want to use this on you..” Bertolt said as he stepped forward.

”Then don’t! Jean, now!” Y/N yelled out, making Jean run towards the emergency exit in the Cafeteria. Reiner ran after them but was too late as Jean quickly blocked the door with heavy objects.

“Y/N.. we made it outside.” Jean said as he still carried her.

”Thank you Jean. Thank you so much.” Y/N sobbed out as she rested her head on his shoulder, not seeing the pink tint on his face.

”I don’t see Marco or any of your friends.. Y/N, we lost our friends.” Jean cried out as he sat on a nearby bench and let her sit beside him.

”I’m so sorry Jean. I’m here for you and you’re here for me. Right?” Y/N asked. Jean nodded before resting her head on his shoulder.

.

.

.

“Marco! You shouldn’t get paint everywhere..” Y/N said as she wiped the little boys clothes. “Jean, he’s your son. Knock some sense into him.”

Jean kneeled beside the messy toddler and looked at him and smiled cheekily. 

“Who’s the man?!” Jean asked playfully.

”I’m da man!” Marco shrieked. Jean tickled him, having the room erupt with laughter.

“Darling, not only is be my son but he’s yours too! And I think he needs his nappy to be changed.. who better to do it than his momma!” Jean teased.

”Haha very funny.” Y/N said as she wiped the table. “Unless you want to make food, clean the whole of the house, iron the clothes and much more, I’ll gladly change his nappy.” 

A moment of silence passed before Jean picked up the little boy and started throwing him up in the air and catching him.

”Let’s go change your nappy lil man.” Jean said as he walked towards Y/N. “Love ya Baby.”

Y/N simply looked at him and smiled before kissing his cheek and taking the baby from him and kissing his chubby face too.

”Love you too Babe.” Y/N said.

[coming-out-of-my-cage]

On Unconditional Love (cw: vent about a messy falling out)

LOVING UNCONDITIONALLY MEANS LOVING WITH NO EXPECTATION OF RECOGNITION OR REWARD. If you are gonna walk away from an act of kindness grumbling about how you got nothing out of it, you are not loving unconditionally! The obvious issue here is where the line for unconditional love and self respect is. Finding the balance between holding firm on boundaries and loving unconditionally is a skill, and not an easy one, but HOW you set your boundaries is a good starting place.

for example, and definitely not based on anything I've been through:

You feel like your friend isn't respecting you, and is using and abusing your good nature. Holding unconditional love for them: You are seeing their perspective and considering why they may be acting this way. Maybe you conclude that they are mentally ill and struggling- you decide that you can't take their treatment anymore, but you also know that providing a safe space for them to grow and learn may help the behavior you don't like start to go away. So you express how you feel and what you need in a kind and loving way, you state that you have to pull away for your own mental health until they can stabilize a bit more, but you love them lots and wish them well, and maybe you decide to check in in a few weeks. What you don't do: Sit them down and lay into them for 25 minutes about how they are selfish, horrible, manipulative, liars. How they are scum of the earth and that you hate being near them with so much hate and vitriolic poison dripping from every word with no option for them to defend themself without you assuming they are lying the whole time. It's not assuming the worst in people. THAT IS NOT UNCONDITIONAL LOVE. WHAT HAPPENED TO KINDNESS IS ALWAYS AN OPTION? What did we do? The best we fucking could with what you gave us-which was nothing.

Unconditional love is knowing that if you ever needed to escape Texas and, for whatever reason, we were who you had to call on for help, we would be there for you in a heartbeat. Not because we owe you anything, but because we care about you still. Unconditional love is that, though this falling out was traumatic for both parties, I hold space for you and I think about you all the time and hope you are healing and growing the way you deserve to.

Conditional love is knowing that you would rather see us suffering. Conditional love is gloating online about putting my partner through hell on the day of their CSA anniversary by inviting their child alter out for cartoons KNOWING their ex was about to come over and lay into them. THOSE KIDS FUCKING TRUSTED YOU AND YOU SPIT IN THEIR FACES!! Did it feel good to watch? Or were you told afterward not to worry, cus they deserved it?

It is not you that I hate. I am angry believe me. But I know you were struggling, fragile, and unstable at the time and only operating out of survival and panic- like a scared dog biting. I think you are as much a victim in this as we are, but not for the reason you think. I wasn't the only one who noticed how vulnerable you were, only she had a vendetta, and she operates from hate and revenge. They saw you looking for someone to blame for how you felt and decided to give you target. I don't hate you. I hate that a scorpion stung you and filled you with such hateful venom. I hate that she used your instability for their own war. I hate that they cost you your friends who operate from love. I hate that you will probably never understand who the true abuser is in this and how they still have their stinger in you. I hate that you will read this and see only my frustration and not my love for you and desires for you to grow and succeed. This post is pointless and will do nothing for me or you.

There are many things I want to say to you but I will conclude with: I hope life is kind to you and those you love. I hope you find a peaceful existence where you and your partner can live comfortably and happily. I hope you get to do what you love for the rest of your life. I will hurt for a long time, and all I can do is hope that you don't. I hope you see this post and remember that you deserve to be loved. This is an example of unconditional love.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

hi mac!!!! mentally i am sitting with u on the couch watchin youtube videos w u. i hope ur day was good :3 i had work 2day. did not stop me writing ghostknife!!! i wrote 2k more words in my tumblr drafts over my seven hour shift. im at 8.5k words total now. get my ass out the kitchen im cookin too hard!!!!! THAT ASIDE mac can u gimme some nhw thoughts. i wanna hear about nhw mark winters. tell me abt ur favourite gay depressed blond man!!!!!!!! i wanna hear abt him and what the winters family torment nexus is like in nhw!!!!!! holding out a microphone 2 u the floor is yours 🎤

OKAY . HI. I LOVE TORTURING THAT BLONDE MAN. im going to direct you to the mark winters essay just in case you havent read that one yet because its got context for a lot of what im gonna talk about hehe (beware for worm spoilers, ill make this answer easy 2 understand without context i promise) under the cut bc i tend to ramble about him. oops

god . okay. basis of the entire nhw mark winters character is that he is the most unlucky man in the entire world. like. literally. hes been targeted that way. universe's favorite punching bag. i could make a joke here about being god and such but ill save that for my dnd campaign.

literally. so much bad shit happens to him. and then keeps happening to him. and keeps happening. and he has to be so fucking. emotionally repressed and logical and analytic and focused or else he will go crazy. mark is one of those capes that got powers artificially (overlord forced them on him- parallel to forced experimentation in canon) but the dramatic irony of it all is that even if mark would have gotten his powers naturally through a trigger event... with the way worm powers work he probably wouldve ended up with the same powers anyway. man is a striker/tinker, which comes from "facing an immediate, in-your-face threat, usually a singular object or individual" (indirect danger from simurgh, immediate danger from ashe in his very unstable breaker form immediately after killing his mom) and "solutionless problems over long periods of time, culminating in a crisis moment" (faking his and ashe's deaths in order to escape the quarantine process of simurgh survivors, having to be on the run from any sort of scrutiny for nearly TEN YEARS, eventually resulting in being offered a job working for overlord (a notoriously cruel crime lord)) . i have a lot of feelings about that. mark goes through all of this and never has a trigger event, he gets through it all with his humanity mostly intact. and then he ends up getting powers anyway because hes forced into a corner by a fucking alligator man.

ANYWAYYYYY. the fic im writing rn is from tide's pov and its immediatly after overlords death, where tide finds mark (and a bunch of other people) unconscious in tubes after going through biological experimentation and getting. animal features. this is how mark gets the lizard stuff in this au. anyway since the fic is from tide's pov i want to take a second to talk about what it would be like from marks pov. mark disobeyed one of overlords orders because it would have meant fighting the wards (who ashe . recently joined as part of the team) . overlord does not take this well and punishes him by using him for unethical human experiments. so between that moment and overlords death, mark had been subjected to over a week of near-constant testing and surgery and he was probably awake for a lot of it and. thatll fuck a guy up!!!!! pretty fucking severely!!!!! but in the grand scheme of things a week isnt that much time. which is why his transformation is only minimal and he can still pretty much pass as human with some disguising (some of the other subjects were. not so lucky).

mark was unconscious for the entire overlord fight, so he has no idea what happens. because he was unmasked, the heroes dont recognize him as a villain so instead of going to jail he gets taken to a hospital with all of the other subjects and is basically just treated as a civilian victim. but because nobody knows who he is or his relation to ashe/auxiliary.... nobody. tells him about what happened to overlord. the wards arent as closely involved with mark in this au (and honestly they dont really like him enough to care, they really just know him as "ashe's shitty dad" and thats about it). um. well. the only person who knows his identity and knows his relation is. tide.

working for a supervillain and constantly surviving out of the public's eye for fear that someone might discover your past doesnt leave a lot of room for friends, and his only living family is currently being turned into a puppet by another supervillain (not that he knows this yet) so the only person who really visits him is tide. theyre not friends, theyre not anything to each other, really, but . they KNOW each other. they UNDERSTAND each other in a way that. nobody else in the world would. go read roswells nhw tidalwave post its everything to me . anyway im getting distracted. like i said, over a week of constant unethical experiments and body horror will fuck a guy up. three of his base biological senses/instincts have been SEVERELY messed with (eyesight is fundamentally changed by the heat sense, he cant really thermoregulate well anymore, his balance is completely thrown off by the Addition Of A New Limb) and so that makes it. really hard for him to recover into some sense of lucidity. the next handful of days after he ends up in the hospital are a complete blur of consciousness, any time he opens his eyes hes totally disoriented, hes getting these awful migraines from the strain, he cant control his body heat and it seems like hes always too cold, the scales are fucking itchy, etc etc etc. hes bedridden most of the time because he cant even stand up on his own without support bc he has to get used to the weight of a tail. for those days where he's basically stuck in bed, stuck in his room, etc. he is. bored out of his mind, hes angry, hes scared (ohhh god hes in a hospital did someone do a background check do they know who he is. he hasnt been to a real doctor in over ten years), he doesnt know how much time has passed.

tide happens to visit the first day mark is feeling lucid enough to ask about ashe. this is like. a week or so into his recovery. he overheard one of the staff talking about the date and it made him like. snap awake because he realized hes been away from home and had no way to contact ashe in like. half a month. he cant ask any of the hospital staff about what happened to his son because thats a surefire way of getting a billion questions about his identity. so when tide shows up its immediately like "where is he is someone taking care of him i hate you heroes and everything you stand for but i know hes part of that team now please tell me theyre keeping him safe" and. tide is really really good at keeping a straight face but he just has this Look in his eyes and mark Knows in that moment that every single one of his nighmares is coming true. he tries to leave, tide has to catch him because he still cant walk and hes behaving like a fucking wild animal, hes biting and clawing and just in this rage because why didnt anyone tell me sooner i couldve done something i couldve protected him ("mark, you were basically in a coma" "i dont care") . nobody knows what actually happened to ashe yet. he killed overlord and then just. went missing. nobody saw him leave. they have no lead whatsoever on where he could be (yet) and it drives mark CRAZY dude like. all mark winters knows is grief and rage. eventually the wards are given that hint about where to find him and see him with the trickster and now THEY know, but. again, they dont.. know mark as well. they dont have any reason to go tell him right away. i havent decided yet whether it would be more painful for tide to break this news to him too or if the first time mark sees his son again is . on tv unmasked using his powers in some gaudy outfit he knows ashe would never choose to wear with his hair pulled back out of his face in some intricate braid and. why are his eyes orange . what the fuck happened to him. his wholeeeeee. entire world entire existence just comes crashing down around him .

mark winters universe's most hated man

[dinkflocculent]

Old Prey - Chapter Six: Raven

Beau

“Get in the bath.”

He closes the door, leaving me alone in the bathroom. The tub is filled with warm water, and he left new clothes on the toilet. Despite his mood, he added bubbles as if I was a cub. Maybe Soleda liked bubbles.

I put a paw in the water, feeling it dampen my fur and warm my freezing paw. Baths always calmed me down. The feeling of the water on my skin, my body warming up… it was just so relaxing. But it’s hard to relax when you’re in the same house with a lion that’s furious with you.

I undress and step into the bath, wincing at my frostnip. My pads have reddened and are painful when applied pressure. It hasn’t worsened to frostbite but is hell to deal with.

I stare at the ceiling, going deeper into the water. I failed. My one chance to free myself is gone. I don’t know what he will do to me, I fear he’ll hurt me.

The longer I stay here, the more my chance of freedom decreases. Leo will never change his mind about me. He wants to shape me ‘back’ into his beloved, molding me into a completely different identity. Making me forget who I am, who I was.

I can’t sit here and let that happen.

I jump out of the water, quickly drying and dressing myself. I open the door, getting out when seeing he isn’t there. I hurry to the window opening it and feeling the cruel cold. I don’t care if my frostbite turns permanent this time, I just need to get out here.

The sound of an aggravated growl fills my ears. The next thing I knew I was being roughly grabbed by my shoulders and turned around, faced with Leo’s seething expression, teeth bared.

He’s furious.

“You’re trying to escape again,” I try to run off, but he has a tightening hold on my wrist. “You could’ve froze to death, or suffocated yourself in that snow!”

“I’ve been so lonely without you, it’s been so hard living my life like this. You make me feel complete,” he lets out a shaky breath. “Yet this horrible thing has happened to you, making you forget all of your memories, every memory of us.”

“No, that isn’t—”

“Your father isn’t a rhino. You aren’t friends with a wolf. You don’t even go to Claws Academy. You went to Deer Valley,” his voice cracks. “I don’t know why this happened. Why did you leave me? Was I too clingy? Did you not like lions? Did you lose interest in me? Did you ever have interest in me?”

I’m the one being held by a violent, mentally unstable lion. But he is the one with tears wetting the fur on his face. He won’t break eye contact with me, looking deeply.

“I-I don’t know,” I try to reason. “I’m not her. I’m Beau Barrese, and I was never in a relationship with you. We’re nine years apart, it can’t be possible that we were in high school together…”

“We’re only two years apart…”

“No.”

“You’re Soleda Anstead, you could’ve been Soleda Santifelon…”

“No.”

“But you look so identical to her, you have to be her!”

“No! I am Beau Barrese, I never loved you nor knew you!”

He grabs my shoulders, his claws almost digging into my flesh as they protrude.

“I kidnapped a young, defenseless beast… my life is over, I’ll be seen as a pedophile. Oh, God.”

“It-It’ll be okay,” I lie, trying to calm him down. “I’m sure you won’t be accused of—”

“I need to get rid of you, I need to get rid of you. Every trace of you.”

My body freezes. My mind went into a complete state of panic, but I couldn’t move. All I see are his pupils constricting, his fangs baring and salivating. All he has to do is devour me, clean the blood, and bury my bones. Then I’ll just be another unsolved missing beast case. My father would never stop blaming himself.

He just looks at me with those wide, predatory eyes. Hesitating. Not lunging and biting my throat, killing me. He doesn’t want to do this. He thinks this is the only thing he can do to reverse his dreadful mistake, by committing a horrific act.

I spent every day of my life worrying about a fate like this. Always being told that it’s rare for someone to devour a bear and that all of my anxieties will leave me once I grow big. But they were wrong. I was right. I was right the whole time.

I don’t want to be right. I don’t want to die like this, I need to escape my fate. With everything that’s happened to me, I realize that my father’s words weren’t just worried ramblings.

“I pray this will never happen,” he began. “But to stop a sick beast from devouring you, you must calm them down. Look within. The largest beast always has the softest place inside their heart.”

I dread that I have to do this…

“I remember when we used to share tongues!”

He stops, his face going blank.

“Isn’t that what cats do with their loved ones..?”

“You… You were the only one who appreciated my felidae body. Not like my father who only liked my fangs, claws, and deep voice.”

I try to have the softest voice I can muster, to act like Soleda. “You’re deeply soft and sensitive, you only need love.”

“Oh… Oh, yes! I’m just a small kitten, like you used to call me…”

I want to rip my fur off. I have to act like this so I’m not eaten alive? God.

He lets go of my shoulders, handling my wrist like glass as he guides me to his bedroom. His room has clothes and other random objects scattered across the floor and bed. It looks nothing compared to the nicely cleaned room that I was kept in. It was like he made it just for me. How long has he been planning to keep me like this?

“I’m so glad you finally came to your senses, Soleda. We can finally be together again. You’ll be a Santifelon!”

I give him a smile, internally screaming.

He brings me into bed, bringing the covers over us. He brings his arms around my body, holding me so very tight, not any possible chance of letting go. He begins to lick my forehead. It isn’t as disgusting as I thought—it makes me feel like a cub again. It makes me feel as defenseless as a cub. Trapped in a house with someone who would kill you if you tried to leave.

The gentle lap of his tongue makes my eyes droop. I allow them to close, hoping to wake up to this all being a dream. But it’s something I can only fantasize about.

I am his, and I can’t do anything about it.

[generic-sonic-fan]

Now I know Shadow not thinking of Eggman as family is the more popular take. But may I present to you: Shadow treating him as the baby of the family.

Him preferring Robotinik tech

Him always referring to Robotinik as Doctor as a form of pride

Protective of him if he’s hurt or mentally unstable.

Him resenting characters saying he’s pure evil.

Ivo is treated as much as a weapon as Shadow is and Metal

Shadow having baby pictures and scavenging for childhood ones.

Just, Shadow Robotinik.

(First of all, if you haven't already, required reading for this post is Robotnik Family Reunion.)

I'm not sure I agree with your take 100% of the way, but I do love to explore the relationship between these two as being closer than most people headcanon. I don't think Shadow acts as the older of the two- they're cousins, if Shadow's counting himself as Maria's sister, which makes them roughly the "same" age. But I do think that they have a strange sort of familial relationship that neither of them can really quantify.

Shadow is someone who cares very deeply about family. Not in an overt, loving sense; almost more of steely obligation. Rouge asks why Shadow even bothers with Ivo and the only reply he has is "he's family". Shadow can't just forget and move on. He's a Robotnik. If something truly happened to Ivo, (especially a chronic illness!) Shadow would be there. There's no other option to even comprehend.

Shadow holds a sort of respect for him. Calling Ivo by "doctor" is the main manifestation of this. But that's not to say that they like each other. They disagree on some fundamental things. Ivo reminds Shadow too much of Gerald's latter years with his desire to conquer the world, and those scars are still too fresh to heal. But there's also an understanding that comes from that. Shadow knows what it's like to be so angry at the world that the only solution you can see is violence. Instead of merely conquering, he tried to destroy everything. Ivo, at least, operates under the pretense that he's making the world better, and that's something Shadow can almost agree with, if it weren't for the scientific and callous disregard for the well-being of others that Ivo brings along with it.

Shadow remembers what it was like to be "evil", and knows it's much more complicated than that. When Sonic and the rest of the gang get to calling Ivo "pure evil", it doesn't sit right.

. . . but then sometimes Ivo does something so colossally stupid or evil that Shadow loses patience and considers just killing the man. To avoid making the decision, he lets Sonic be the one to give the final blow to whatever robot Ivo has himself holed up in for the latest scheme, and looks the other way as Sonic lets him escape every time.

They definitely have periods where they're closer than others.

Sometimes, during the good periods, Ivo lets Shadow get ahold of some of the old family heirlooms. He's got lots of things from old houses that he's inherited as the rest of the Robotnik family dropped like flies over the years, things with little use to him, so he lets Shadow pick through the remains. The most valuable find so far has been a blue ribbon that Maria wore as a baby before the ARK, along with a picture of her parents. Ivo says this exchange of family property is to bribe Shadow from breaking in and erasing his access to the PROJECT: SHADOW files from the EggNet, but. . . let's be honest here, he wouldn't have to go as far as actually giving gifts this important and meaningful to Shadow to achieve that.

Shadow talks about all this with Rouge sometimes. Rouge has had some unsavory family members in the past, so she's able to give some advice. With Omega, though, the topic is probably the biggest strain in their friendship. Omega made up his mind about the whole "family" situation since day one: Ivo is not his "father", and he is not a Robotnik. Shadow has only once made the mistake of implying that he and Omega were cousins once-removed. It took him a week to heal the injuries and even longer for Omega to start speaking to him again.

(Sometimes Shadow, despite himself and despite everything, catches himself feeling a strange sort of gratitude that Ivo built Omega. He keeps this very, very private.)

So, yeah- Shadow Robotnik indeed (no matter how messy the title and all the emotions that come with it may be.) Thanks for sending this ask. I'm always in the mood to have my brain picked about these two.

[omiteo777]

I always wondered, what was post abstracted relationship with kinger, jax, gangle, and Ragatha?

Kaufmo - For Kinger, Kaufmo always had respect for the King chest piece. He and Kinger tend to work on the planning for escaping the circus. They like to have conversations about their times together before the experience with abstracting. He’s just happy to know that Kinger had never given up and tried his best to keep himself from abstracting. He’s also happy to know that the King chest piece is recovering from being mental unstable since the clown and his other friends are back from abstraction, especially Queenie.

Queenie - Kinger and Queenie treat each other like husband and wife. They never once leave each other or hesitate to help one another. As of now, they are working on the planning with escaping the circus, followed by Kaufmo and a few others. It’ll take time, but hopefully they can make it out of here soon enough.

Rett - Kinger likes to take the time to comfort him after everything he’s been through. He knows sign language pretty well and uses it to communicate with the dog, where he understands and sympathizes with his friend. He wishes the best for him and hopes that he heals after escaping the circus if that’ll be possible in the near future.

Wriggle - The worm on a string is like a soldier to Kinger. Never once does he hesitate to help the King chest piece. He sees him as a strong person who keeps himself intact for the sake of his friends and Queenie.

Moppsy - The sock puppet finds comfort near Kinger. She sees him as a father figure and likes to stay by his side. The King chest piece takes the time in keeping his friend calm and makes sure that she doesn’t abstract again.

Yucko - The yellow clown and King chest piece have respect for one another. Although he dislikes the plan in escaping the circus, thanks to Caine’s intentions, the clown still stands with Kinger and prefers to assist him with defense whenever he’s in a dangerous situation.

Bizz - The King chest piece relates so much to the jester. He understands how he feels and acts as he went through the same thing before he and the other abstracted characters were rescued. He wishes him a full recovery by the time everyone escapes the circus if possible. Whenever he loses memory on the situation they’re in, or whenever he yells out without warning after spacing out for a moment, Kinger makes sure to keep him calm and refresh his memory by reminding him of where they are and what they’re doing now.

Doz - Kinger can have patience towards the purple dinosaur. Despite her attitude towards everyone, the King chest piece tries his best to reason with her. Doz however, sees him as unworthy to be a King chest piece, thinking of him as a weak coward who didn’t care much about his friends in the past, hence why they abstracted in the first place, even though he truly did at heart and continues to care for them no matter what.

Blonk - Kinger takes the time in assisting the pink cyclops when it comes to his disabilities. He believes that it’s his responsibility to make sure that Blonk doesn’t hurt himself or get lost in the circus, knowing how scared he is of the hidden, unnerving secrets if so. The pink cyclops can only sense the King chest piece by touching him or feeling his presence, but deep down, he knows that Kinger deeply cares for him and wishes him all the best in a better life for the future.

[that-darn-clown]

laptop decided to freeze while writing this last time, so here we go again:

so. thought about Rewrite!Malhare and Help Wanted (OG) and that one "the haunted house loves you and doesn't want you to leave" post. also your original response to my ask going into detail on the plot of Help Wanted in the Rewrite where you said it was like if Purble Place wanted you dead.

like, if we can consider William's mental state at this point (had already been dead and stuck in a building, both alone in a backstage area with the door blocked off and surrounded by ghosts who either hated him or were terrified of him, and was now currently being tormented by his son in a hell of his son's creation with the occasional appearance of the other souls of his victims), He Likely Ain't Doing Too Hot. he's probably desperate for any positive human contact. mix this in with William still doubling down on the fact that he was a good father and having some control in his current situation, and you've got one unstable (in multiple ways) lil glitchy hare, who can swap between being a manipulative charismatic, silly guy to being fucking terrifying within seconds. (and is only 2% of Afton's soul in AI form but y'know)

so like. imagine this from the perspective of our three protagonists:

you're Vanessa. your abusive dad just kinda moved in with you, because you felt an obligation to take care of him. you escape to video games and the internet as a way to ignore your current...circumstances. you download these games by Fazbear Entertainment, the games constantly getting recommended to you as you browse the internet for some reason. then this...AI thing starts talking to you. you spend more and more time talking to it, and you hardly even realize it. it keeps making these...odd statements. it compliments your fursuit, a rabbit (makes sense). it seems to comfort you as you vent about your current life problems. then it gets worrying. it says things like "You remind me of my son, I think you two would get along! :)" and "Your father's terrible! I would've been a much better father to you than him." his suggestions keep getting more worried, and you've had to switch your sessions online with it to being during the night, since it's...oddly clingy. and, of course, the other two people in your house have to use the computer, too.

then, it starts suggesting that you kill.

starting with your father.

you're Summer. your girlfriend roommate has been acting weirder since her father moved in with you both. she's been on the computer for hours at a time. even weirder...the game pack she downloaded is on your account, too. you decide to investigate. you discover this...Thing, too. it's toying with you, you know it is. as to why...well, that's anyone's guess. it keeps messing with you, messing with your progress through the games. and you don't know why. you record audio logs, keeping track of all of this, but you hide them the best you can. it...starts asking questions. about her. "How long have you both known each other? :)" "Vanny doesn't seem to like her father here...is that why she comes to talk to me so often? :)" "Has Vanessa expressed any interest in murder before? :)" even worse, she's getting...weirder. and not in a good way. she seems more...volatile now.

you don't know what to do.

and, finally, you're Bill. you're surprised that you're even in this situation in the first place. you were honestly expecting her to slam the door in your face and tell you to fuck off, but...she doesn't, surprisingly. but you can tell things are tense. she's been getting on the computer more, playing these...well, to be blunt, they're kid's games. she's, what, 23 now? great, now they're on your account, too...wait, Fazbear Entertainment? that's a name you haven't heard in years...well, for good reason...you don't have the happiest memories with that place...but it's under new management now, so who knows? then...you come across IT. it's hostile to you, knowing things about your history that it just...shouldn't. with your daughter, with your brother...and it hits you. somehow, you're talking to your brother's killer. it keeps fucking with you, messing around with you as you try to get through these games, not letting you leave until you do it "right," all while practically taunting you, sometimes bringing up your brother's murder. you don't know why this thing doesn't just let you get through the games as fast as possible, if it hates you so much. it won't have to deal with you, then. even worse, your daughter is...hostile, now. she seems like she's about ready to snap at you any moment.

you don't feel safe in the house now.

(don't mind me. just rambling about random thoughts i had about this)

[thenightling]

So Jack Skellington is problematic Now...

Ugh... In my re-embracing of my childhood favorite (Nightmare before Christmas) which turns thirty years old this year, I have had the displeasure of encountering "New" interpretations of the characters. I kind of hate that the Tumblr generation has discovered Nightmare before Christmas.

I'm stumbling across hot take after hot take about what an awful person Jack is and people "Cleverly" pointing out that Jack didn't listen to Sally, that he talked over her, that he does a lot of harm... Yeah, that's kind of the point. He's a f--k up. And he is oblivious. But he's not evil. And he's not abusive.

I even came across one tonight that said he's mentally unstable. No, his emotions are conveyed in a musical with song numbers by a very expressive and eccentric man who likes to play with his own vocal range and emotional expression in song. That's not "emotional instability." That's passion. All of Jack's emotions and reactions are warranted in the story.

One of the earliest hot takes I came across called the movie a "Dumpster Fire." And the person essentially said that Jack needs to be punished and that the mayor should strip him of his Pumpkin King Title. I think they don't realize a king out ranks a mayor, usually, and Jack isn't some beauty pageant winner. He is the king of Halloween. I think this new backlash against the character stems from interpretations that the movie is about cultural appropriation. People thinking Sally is too passive because they're used to "Strong women" actually fighting and kicking ass. But Sally is a strong character. She just doesn't do physical combat. I think we need to veer away from this shallow interpretation of "strong" requiring brute force. Sally is defiant. She questions things. She poisons her creator to escape him on a regular basis. And she even almost got away with freeing Santa Claus (almost at the cost of her own leg). That and a cultural stance of being anti-monarchy. It's kind of depressing seeing this sort of hate toward Jack. I know it's a children's film but it says a lot when people can't forgive the protagonist of a children's film for being oblivious (toward Sally and about taking over Christmas). There are actually people who think Jack will eventually get bored and lose interest in Sally because she's just "another high" for him and think he's a narcissist. If Jack was a true narcissist he would not have rushed to their rescue the way he did. Also The soundtrack album and novelization both tell you that Jack and Sally had "Four or five" children together. Jack never gets bored with her. The thing that Jack was missing the whole time was love- an emotional connection to another on a personal level. That's why he became obsessed with Christmas. He sensed the pure love attached to the holiday. He just didn't realize how close that potential connection- that love actually was. To think Sally is just another high for him is to miss the entire point of Jack's Lament, what the emptiness and longing was inside of Jack, and also ruins the intended sweetness of the ending. Despite what a lot of sequels do today with romances, these two were meant to be a Happily Ever After- without question. The idea was that Jack's obsession with Christmas came from a high, yes, but that high came from sensing the love innate in the holiday itself. That's the longing and emptiness he felt in the song Jack's Lament, the lack of deep interpersonal connection- love. He had fans but he didn't really have someone actually care about him as a person and get to know him or try to.

Jack would probably have other adventures and screw ups. But I don't think he'd get bored with Sally, she is a connection he has with no one else. And that's very important to someone who has experienced profound loneliness.

In regard to Jack's behavior in the movie... "Never attribute to malice what can adequately be explained by stupidity." Jack isn't stupid. But he IS very naive. And he makes horrible mistakes. Once he realizes he has made these mistakes he sets out to make things right. A more adult version of this issue came up when I first got into Neil Gaiman's The Sandman. Someone sent me an anonymous ask on Tumblr that read "Do you acknowledge all the terrible things Morpheus has done or do you ignore them because he's your fave?" He's my favorite partly BECAUSE he's a screw up. I like characters that make terrible mistakes and then attempt to set things right. I like redemption stories. I like character growth.

Has our culture reached some very unsympathetic and rather cruel point that protagonists can't make bad mistakes, can't have faults and failings? They need to be perfect and always do the right thing at all times lest forever be condemned as problematic?! For God's sake, I'm reading rants on why the King of Halloween wanting to do Christmas and not listening to the girl who has a crush on him should result in a beheading. Kids... Calm down. Not everything needs righteous rage.

[astroyongie]

Kep1er April Reading

Note: please tale it lightly and have fun ! 

Yujin

Love: After she broke up with her partner, she has been in a relationship again since two month ago. This person is making her happy for the moment, they are giving her everything that she wants. Honestly she is just happy  

Career:  I sense that she had a huge argument with a higher up or a manager due to something that was taken away from her. She feels kinda rejected and very annoyed about the situation

Health:

Physical: She has something that is attaacking her vocal cords, but also giving her pain around her shoulders and backs, maybe a flu?

Mental:  She is good

Mashiro

Love: Her love life is tied to her professional life. At the moment Mashiro isn’t dating anyone, nor is she allowed to see people for the moment

Career: when it comes to her career, all the opportunities she has have been given and now she has to work very hard to repay everything that was given to her. Mashiro has quite a few debts. She also writes a lot and aspires to one day show her talents

Health:

Physical: She isn’t eating well/enough. Heart issue and headaches behind her eyelids

Mental:  She suffers from poor mental health, doesn’t sleep well, is unstable and where comment and hate are harsh for her. She is under treatment

Xiaoting

Love: She is currently in a relationship and things seem to be going well. She needs to be careful tho, because although her relationship seem to be healthy and happy, there’s someone lurking and waiting to snitch her away from her partner

Career:  She has a lot of decisions to make. Xiaoting receives a lot of opportunities, one of them related with mc/acting/modeling/participating in a show kinda of stuff. She really wants to accept it but she is scared that financially this falls upon her

Health:

Physical: healthy

Mental:  poor mental health as well, although she is being followed for it. Family issues are what affect her a lot, and Xiaoting is very silent about her issues

Chaehyun

Love: She isn’t in a relationship, however she is very close to one of her friends whom she had a crush on. However their friendship is strong and she doesn’t want to change that. Also, Chaehyun knows this person tends to lie a lot and she doesn’t want that for herself

Career:  career wise things are a little complicated at the moment. I se a lot of people inside the company who didn’t had good intentions with her, I see ruined opportunities and things that were taken from her to be given to other members. She argued a lot about it, but the only conclusion was that she got even more on the bad side of these people. Chaehyun was working very hard for a solo activity but I don’t know if it will ever come out

Health:

Physical: Thyroid issues and throat pain

Mental:  Very emotional at the moment, she is using things to escape the real world. She is pretty scared

Dayeon

Love: Dayeon is single at the moment as well. She was starting to get involved with an older person, but this person just left her hanging there after some time, since they weren’t interested in a “child”. So at the moment she is disappointed and single

Career:  Things are rather going very well for her, but feel a lot of greedy energy from Dayeon. I see that she is financially supported and is having a lot of work and opportunities to work on, however she feels like someone inside the group is jealous of her and she feels that it’s unfair that they take out on her

Health:

Physical: She is healthy

Mental:  all okay

Hikaru

Love: Hikaru is single as well and currently not looking into any relationship despite feeling a little bit only. She is actually helping her friends getting hooked up and she is focusing on her friendships more than on her heart

Career:  Someone inside that company doesn’t want her well at all and she needs to be careful with hat feminine person because they are the reason why she doesn’t get that much attention or opportunities are removed from her

Health:

Physical: Issues around her throat but most importantly around her womb and stomach area.

Mental:  Hikaru suffers from anxiety, she closes herself a lot

Bahiyyih

Love: I am suppose to keep her relationship discreet, so all I am going to say is that she is in a relationship and that for the moment they text each other a lot

Career:  Things seem to be going very well for Bahiyyih, although some doors have been closed to her, I also see that she is surrounded y benefits and financial stability at the moment. Which is also the reason why she doesn’t worry much about her career

Health:

Physical: healthy

Mental:  she thinks a lot about her childhood and she is a little bit tired mentally

Youngeun

Love: She started seeing someone very recently and although they haven’t officialize things between them, they are going out together and they are kinda of together. Youngeun have been longing for a relationship but she is taking it slow since she knows she gets bored easily

Career:  Her career is going very well. I see a lot of opportunities going her way, and also a lot of people asking for colabs with her name. Youngeun is happy with her situation, and with the fact that even financially she is stable

Health:

Physical: some heart palpitations

Mental:  despite her energy being all over the place, she is very happy at the moment

Yeseo

Love: I didn’t got much about her love life, other that she is single and she learn many things about a past lover of hers that is making her feel very sad and cringe due to their stupid actions. The trues and the rumors she hears about them are making her feel stupid enough to have accepted him in her life

Career:  Yeseo is stable career wise, the company is paying her well and she is allowed to give her opinion and to participate in all activities for the group. She also been offering a lot of opportunities that the company is treating at the moment

Health

Physical: healthy

Mental:  Despite being someone very agitated she is rather okay

[strangerqueerthings]

Dear Billy

A letter from Billy's mother. Whether it gets to him is unknown, but there are some things that need to be said.

Also on AO3

CW for abuse, implied sexual abuse, medication control

Dear Billy,

I don’t even know if this will reach you. The divorce lawyer promised he would get it to you when you turned eighteen, and Neil couldn’t hold it from you, but I don’t put much faith in men anymore. All I can do is hope that somehow, you get this letter, and that you will hopefully understand why I did what I did, and that it was all to protect us both.

I don’t want you to think less of me, or especially yourself, but you were an unexpected gift.

I hadn’t planned on having children. Not with Neil, at least. I was starting to see the harder side of him, starting to notice how he tried to tighten his grip on every aspect of my life. This included my birth control. I don’t know how he did it, to tell you the truth. There’s so many ways he could have done it- antibiotics in my food, grapefruit juice in my drink, replacing my pills with placebos. All I know is, despite taking my medication every day, I found myself pregnant with you.

I was terrified, but I was also delighted. I was terrified because I didn’t know what was in store for me. I was young- barely eighteen myself- and pregnant by a boyfriend who was starting to scare me.

I should have run. I should have left, should have had you on my own. It would have been hard, but we would have been safe. I didn’t, because I was young and scared, and Neil made me believe that I couldn’t survive on my own- I hadn’t even been able to manage my birth control, how could I take care of a child by myself?

That’s what he had me believing, anyway. I believed him. Believed I would end up losing you to the state, or that we’d live in squalor, and that you’d resent me for raising you without a father. So I married him, because I believed I had no other choice.

He was fine, almost normal, almost kind, until after you were born. It was hard. He expected me to resume all my wifely duties shortly after I took you home from the hospital. He berated me when I didn’t do the housework in a timely manner, yelled at me if I spent too long feeding you, screamed at me if I didn’t get you to stop crying.

I didn’t know it at the time, but I had Postpartum Depression. I hadn’t been allowed to recover on my own time, hadn’t been allowed to feed you long enough, or properly, and it all affected my hormones, and I was miserable.

I fought through it for you. I took the screaming, the yelling, and everything else I can’t put to paper. I was able to weather it, because I would look at your face, and it made the fight to survive worth it.

I was going to run away with you. I saw Neil raise a hand to you, and I’d had enough. I would let him hurt me, but not you. Not you, my son.

I don’t know what Neil told you about why I left, or who I left with, but I can imagine that he told you I was a whore, that I left for another man. I promise you, it was not the case.

The “other man,” Neil was so worried about was a friend who was trying to help me run away- with you. He’d been a friend since childhood, and he was helping me get a divorce lawyer, helping me save money, to plan our escape. He was helping me document all the instances of abuse, so I could keep the court from taking Neil’s side.

In the end, it didn’t matter. Neil forced my hand that night, and while you slept, Neil called the police on me, and said I was unstable. My post-partum depression was brought up, and a record of mental instability was established against me. When Neil added in the suspected infidelity, my lawyer told me that if Neil fought hard enough for custody, he’d win. He said that fighting would only keep Neil longer in my life, and expose you to all the things he had done to me, for I would be forced to talk about them.

I didn’t want you to have to be dragged through that, for the other children to know you had a broken home, or worse, that your mother was crazy.

I’d rather you resent me for leaving, than have the burden of knowing what Neil did to me, what he did to drive me away- because I didn’t want you to feel any sort of guilt over not being able to protect me, because that was not your job. It was mine, and I failed you in that.

I genuinely thought it would be better for you if I stayed out of your life until Neil was no longer able to intervene, to make things worse. He had made veiled threats when I first brought up visitation rights, and I couldn’t put you through that.

I am so sorry, my son. I am so sorry that I believed Neil’s lies, that I let him think I couldn’t raise you on my own. I am so sorry that I wasn’t able to be in your life.

I am not sorry, however, for having had you. You are the single best thing I have ever done in my life.

I will never forget your smile on the beach, how proud you were- and how proud I was- of that seven foot wave you effortlessly surfed on. I will never forget your messy hair and mumbly voice in the early morning when I got you out of bed for school. I will always remember the first time your tiny fingers wrapped around mine.

Your first word was Mama, and I will forever remember how you looked me in the eyes with delight as you said it, over and over, waving your little arms as you asked to be picked up.

You were always the best thing in my life, and I can only hope you don’t hate me, Billy. I loved you so much, and I still do. I just wish I knew what kind of person you are now. I wish I could have seen your graduation. I wish I could have embarrassed you with a million Polaroids of you and your date for prom. I wish I could have helped you apply for college.

I can only hope this letter finds you, and that in time, you and I can find one another again. I want so much to make everything up to you.

I want to be there for whenever you get married, if you do find love. I want to be there if you make or find a new family of your own. I want to support you through the harder moments, and celebrate your successes. Now that you’re eighteen, we have that option again, and I hope that we can try again.

Just know that I never stopped loving you, Billy. Know that you will always be my son, and even if you can’t forgive me, I will always have a place for you- both in my home and my heart.

I love you, Billy.

-Delilah.