#which is what lead to my mental breakdown and partial hospitalization

[afterthedreamer]

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[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the word

Thanks to @writingsfromspace for the tag!

My words: find, water, star, fly

Your words: ground, copy, thought, bottom

Tagging @awritingcaitlin @writernopal @winterandwords @sarandipitywrites @mjjune @dyrewrites @sarahlizziewrites @i-can-even-burn-salad @sleepywriter00 @sunset-a-story @stesierra @imsoveryveryconfusedatlife @finickyfelix

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

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Ash nearly faints

Take a shot of water every time I say water in this excerpt

Argument between Rose and Maddie

Gwen meets Akash

Find - from The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

I felt like collapsing in a cluster of red ferns by the time I reached the trees. Soon, I was using the trunks to hold myself up. A sudden ringing in my ears made my head feel like it split open. I let out a cry as I pressed my fingers to my forehead. I heard a little girl screaming. I tried to find the origin of the sound, but I found no one. The screaming didn’t stop. I kept going forward, covering my ears, trying to make it go away. I collapsed on the ground in a patch of violet-colored flowers, curling into a ball. My head spun as I stared at the petals. They weren’t like any other flower I’d seen. Their purple color was so vibrant, I debated its existence. There were three layers of tear-shaped petals swirling around the center, creating a dizzying spiral. I closed my eyes; the petals were making me sicker. Slowly, the screaming stopped. My vision cleared. I shook my head and pulled myself up and rested my body on the nearest tree trunk. I closed and opened my eyes slowly as the world slowly came back into focus. What just happened? Who was that?

Water - from The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

I entered the kitchen, pushing off the wall so I could rummage through the cabinet. I pulled out a glass and filled it with water from the fridge. I guzzled the water but almost spit it out. As soon as the water graced my lips, a sudden blue light flashed in front of me. Shaking it off as an effect of the devices, I refilled the glass to the brim. The blue lights happened again. During the third refill, my eyes rested on the time, a small light on the fridge. It was six am. There was no way I used the devices before even two. And there was no way that vision took more than five minutes. “Shit!” I hissed as my shock caused the water to spill over the glass. I guzzled the water again before grabbing a towel to clean up my mess. Once I did, I stood back up, tossed the towel on the counter, and looked at the clock again. I sighed. I wasn't sure what I was going to do in the remaining time that I had before everyone else awoke.

Did you take the shots of water? Do you have to pee yet?

Star - from The Secret Portal Part One (Maddie POV)

“What’s happening?” Rose murmured. “You lead us through a death portal,” I muttered, joking slightly. Rose swiveled her head toward me. “Excuse me? You were the one who had a mental breakdown when Lexi didn’t answer her damn phone!” “Well, Lexi and Ash ended up here, so I had the right idea,” I said, not sure why she was mad. “Fine. You were right. Gold star.” Rose glared down at me. “And don’t blame me for what happened to Noelle.” “It’s partially my fault,” I said, lightly pushing her away from my face. “I suggested Lexi's disappearance, but you led us here, so a bit of yours, too.” Rose stepped toward me again. “This. Is not. My fault.” “I said it’s partially my fault,” I insisted, pushing her away again. She pushed me back this time, which irritated me. I only pushed her because she was in my face. “Why don’t you admit you’re partially responsible for Noelle’s injury?” I pushed in retaliation this time. “We’re gonna get her to a hospital, and then we’re gonna look for my sister, who you seem to have forgotten about because you’re too wrapped in yourself to care if Lexi’s okay.” I bit my tongue. That wasn't a good thing to say. I wasn't sure where it came from. Rose’s jaw clenched. She lifted her fist—I thought she would push me again, but she just jabbed me with her finger on every word— “Don’t. Ever. Say. I don’t care about Lexi. She means more to me than you could imagine.” “I’m her sister,” I pointed out. “How could you—” I poked her back— “imagine how much she means to me?” Rose took a step back. She looked down at her feet for a second. I did the same. Gwen pointed out I was arguing earlier when I didn’t mean to, which sometimes happened to me. Arguing wasn’t gonna get Lexi—or Ash—back, and it wasn't gonna get Noelle to a hospital either. I wondered if Rose would hate me forever after this.

Fly - from The Secret Portal Part One (Gwen POV)

My left foot slammed into a vent cover, knocking me off balance and causing my butt to slam against the cover, knocking it off. I fell through the hole and somehow managed to grab the edges of the vent. I heard the cover crash onto the floor below me as I dangled from the ceiling. “Hey, who’re you?” a voice said. I looked around, trying to find the owner of the voice when my eyes finally rested on a boy. He was probably a year or so older than me with dark brown skin. He had short and spiky hair and his ears stuck out a little. He wore a yellow polo t-shit over a long-sleeved white shirt and dark-blue jeans. It took a moment to realize the boy was at eye level while I hung from the ceiling. I looked down and saw the boy’s feet were a good ten feet from the ground. He was floating. “Who are you?” the boy repeated. I looked back up. I realized he was kinda cute. Even with the messy bedhead. “Um, Gwen.” “Akash,” he said. Actually, especially with the messy bedhead. I realized I was staring when Akash smiled. “You’re new around here, aren’t you?” When I didn’t answer, he added, “You want me to help you down?” I nodded, and Akash wrapped his arm around me. I flinched slightly—a cute boy was touching me!—but allowed him to do so. I let go of the vent and let him fly me to the floor. I suddenly realized I had wrapped my arms around him. I quickly pushed away from him. “Thanks,” I muttered. I glanced off to the side and panic ran through me when I noticed a bed. I could feel my cheeks turning red. I just fell into a cute boy’s room! As if I wasn’t embarrassed enough.

[detentiontrack]

What was your mental hospital experience like? /gen

Honestly it wasn’t too bad!! But I was only in there for 3 and a half days (my last stay was over a week). I went to the ER at 7pm and got checked in, and then I had to wait until 5am to see the psychiatrist (which I understand. He said he’s working for 3 hospitals and had to go back and forth) and then I finally got transferred to the behavioral center around 7am. I hadn’t slept in 3 days and couldn’t sleep after I got checked in and got a room, so I had a little bit of a breakdown, but then I saw the doctor and he gave me a TON of sleep medication and I passed tf out. There was literally nothing to do in there, so I mostly slept. I only went to one or two groups the entire time (there’s around 2-3 groups every day) because I was so sleepy, and I was only really leaving my room for medication and meal times (side note: the food was like normal hospital food with no seasonings or flavor, but it wasn’t too bad). They also refused to give me any of the books I brought (they were all appropriate and meant for like middle schoolers, mostly Percy Jackson, and they were paperback so idk why they didn’t hand them over. I asked the nurses and my doctor like 5 times to get them out of the storage locker and give them to me but they never did) but there WAS a bible in my room for some reason, so I read almost half of the entire bible in 3 days. I was a little nervous because it was my first time in the adult ward (my last admission was in 2022 when I was 17 so I was with patients 14-17), but the other patients were really nice and knew how to mind their own business. I saw the social worker and some therapists a few times, and I also saw the lead psychiatrist, who put me on these new medications and diagnosed me with borderline personality disorder. Although he was kind of a jerk. He talked shit about my normal psychiatrist (who I love and have been seeing since I was 15), got mad when I asked “too many” questions about my new medications (I like to be prepared so I ask a lot of questions about new meds), got mad when I asked him where he got his medical degree (this one was kind of understandable. I meant it genuinely because I was curious, but because I was so drowsy and because I am autistic, it came out sounding kind of snarky or sarcastic), and on top of everything else, he tried to convince me to get rid of CZ, and THEN he tried to convince me that he spoke to my mom and she was going to rehome CZ or take him to a shelter while I was inpatient (I kind of believed him and got scared. It turns out he did not speak to my mom even once and certainly did not say anything about getting rid of my literal emotional support animal). He also put in the discharge notes in the physical health section that I’m “obese” (I’m only 3 points over the obese bmi category and my weight doesn’t affect my health whatsoever) and recommended that I lose weight (yeah recommend the person with a history of an eating disorder to lose weight. That’ll go well /s) and I’m convinced that was personal because I asked him where he got his medical degree.

I’m honestly really surprised that they released me so soon, but I was doing a lot better by the end of my stay and I think they figured my new medications would kick in soon enough. Some of the conditions I had to agree to (and sign a contract about) before they sent me home were 1. I’m not allowed to have any sharp objects, even sewing scissors 2. I’m not allowed to have any pills in my room, bathroom, or kitchen, so my mom has to keep them locked in her room and give me a singular dose of each twice a day 3. I’m not allowed to move out or live alone, and 4. I have to agree to go to a partial hospitalization program after my discharge. All in all, it was a pretty positive experience and I think it helped a lot. I recognize that I’m extremely privileged because a lot of people don’t have access to good mental health care/medications (my family is poor but because we’re poor, I get really good insurance from the state until I’m 26) and a lot of people have really bad inpatient experiences, so I am grateful it was a good experience this time. I kinda rambled here but I hope this helps anyone who wants to know what an inpatient stay is like!

[transingthoseformers]

He is not. Definitely not.

He is injecting, for a truly minor procedure, a band aid of a surgery, and underestimated Ratchet's personal disgust and revulsion.

It hits him while he's inside, making the dear of his patient hit him personally rather than being something that he can enjoy. Trepan with his and Ratchet's instincts slowly pulls out, and vomits shaking manually shut down his own emotional receptors and put the patient under. Without the active fear he quickly and efficiently finishes, cleans to hide it, goes through the day numb, and turns them back on at home to get hit by the full range of self-disgust and utter fury that leads him to throwing Ratchet’s brain around like a stress ball.

He fully focuses on attempting repairs and finds a lot of his work has been dangerously undone. He refuses to come out about it, though lest he be marked as potentially dangerous. He has the data ghost of a "dissident" that's enough to get him flagged, and he knows personally what could happen.

This makes compounds into further stress because he's been pointedly ignoring the persistent Orion, struggling with unfamiliar morals, and new guilt over lying to Pharma, who he worries about.

Trepan degrades and falls into Ratchet's mental patterns to the point he wakes up and goes to the hospital before realizing he runs into Rung in the waiting room. Rung had just dropped off a patient for repairs due to an incident, and he pegs what is going on and says, deliberately, "Ratchet" and Trepan answers and starts having a breakdown.

Rung, gently, escorts him somewhere private and talks him through it. Trepan is lashing out, but Rung is being compassionate yet firm. He understands exactly what is happening and is raging and grieving on the inside, realizing what it means for how Ratchet died.

Trepan lets Rung calm him down and admits he doesn't know his own mind anymore. He's gotten good at hiding it, but what triggered this was he was allowed to go back to work and reacted poorly to injecting.

Trepan almost reaches out but pushes Rung away and threatens him to not tell Pharma.

Rung doesn't, yet only because he knows Pharma won't believe him as he has known Trepan longer and leans on him. Rung also isn't fully aware Trepan reported Ratchet intentionally not just was an unlucky minion who works for the Institute. He knows that the Senate has mnemosurgeons onboard, and they were the ones in power who made the choice. Trepan wouldn't have selected Ratchet or approved him for a P.A. Bit he knows exactly who would and decides he needs to make a point to visit Senator Shockwave about his most recent legislation on mnemosurgery regulations.

Rung is more focused on the safety of those involved. He can see the potential danger to himself and others in thecclearly destabilizing Trepan. He also has taken on the responsibility of being there for Pharma. Rung does supply Pharma with the reality of mnemosurgeries use, Senate laws, and Ratchet's activities to let him draw his own conclusions and investigate when he's ready.

Despite his own disgust he even makes the choice to go check up on Trepan which leads to his first meeting with Orion Pax who has been hounding Trepan for a follow up interview that added to Trepan's stress. Rung politely excuses himself and Trepan pointedly avoids him after.

Yesssss

Oh Trepan

I do not feel bad for him right now😁

I hold firm by my opinion that mnemosurgery is terrifying as shit, and by extension Trepan is triple terrifying.

dAMN ON HIM THROWING THE BRAIN. after all. He can't throw around the psychological parts of Ratchet inside him. But he can throw that.

Mmhm and now he's afraid of something happening to him because after all. If he was in the other's shoes, fuck knows he'd punish first ask questions later in order to keep the status quo.

This is so fascinating because for all intents and purposes, he is partially Ratchet. And this is fucking with him so much.

And Rung can see both of these facts, thus Trepan losing it even more

again god that's gotta be a horrible death, dying during mnemosurgery.

So Rung doesn't know everything, but what he does know is rather concerning. I mean the truth is concerning but yeahhh.

Senator Shockwave, the unlucky bastard himself

Rung may hate Trepan, but he sees a duty in this. Trepan matters to Pharma, and Rung cares about Pharma.

[ravennm84]

Serafina II

Part 1     Part 3

The 2nd installment of the “Marinette’s Haunted Doll” series. I was seriously shocked by how much response I got from part one, so I hope this lives up to your expectations. Blood, gore, and death are coming, along with some mental freak-outs. You have been warned. 

Part II

Despite wanting to stay with Marinette to comfort the girl after the tearful apologies by Mylene and Ivan, Serafina couldn’t return until her work was finished. There was still much to do and people to punish. 

She arrived early with Mylene, which allowed her to observe the others that entered the classroom. Kim had returned to school that day in a wheelchair. The cast on his leg went up to his waist and the one on his arm went up to his bicep. His face and exposed skin were covered in bruises and his right eye looked like it had blood in it. 

“How are you feeling, dude?” Nino asked him as he entered alongside Adrien.

“Really sore,” the boy admitted. “Doctors had to reset my leg at the knee and said that my arm was a three piece offset fracture, so they had to use screws to put it back in place. Other than that; had a concussion, a lot of bruises, and a couple cuts; but no internal bleeding or ruptured organs. They said after a few months and some physical therapy, I should be as good as new.”

Nino gave him a solemn nod. “Glad to hear you’re going to be okay, dude.”

Kim’s expression dropped a bit. “I heard about Alya, I’m really sorry, man.”

The boy lowered his head while Adrien patted his back. “I really… I can’t believe she’s gone because of some freak accident. It makes no sense!” Nino jumped to his feet and started pacing as more students filed in. “I mean, she wasn’t supposed to die like that! Getting caught up in an akuma battle, childhood disease, there would be a reason for that! But that was just pointless!”

Mme. Bustier did attempt to calm him down, but her kind words fell on deaf ears before he grabbed his bag and left the room. No one could blame him, and only Adrien followed to make sure he would be alright, and to make sure he wasn’t akumatized.

Lila came in not long after with a curious bag in her hands. Serafina watched the liar as she looked around the room. She had a feeling that the liar would try something after her last attempt to frame Marinette had failed. When the girl tried speaking to Mylene, the doll was proud to see the girl refuse to acknowledge her as she continued to speak with Rose and Juleka. When it was clear that she was being ignored, she tried speaking to Ivan, only for him to give her a harsh glare that had her shuffling backwards. With Max and Alix still at the hospital and Adrien not in the room, that left her with Sabrina. The redhead had been sitting alone at the front of the room since Chloe had transferred schools after the Miracle Queen incident.

“Hi Sabrina, how are you doing?”

The girl smiled up at the italian, glad to still have a friend. “I’m doing okay, at least a lot better than a lot of our class. I heard Max lost sight in his one eye from the chemicals and Alix might have to have cosmetic surgery to get her face back to normal. At least Kim might be back to normal in a few months after going through physical therapy. But Alya…”

Lila faked her tears at the mention of her lost follower. She was really more annoyed than sad, Alya was easily manipulated, went along with everything she said, and Lila had been able to use her blog to build up her popularity. And the girl had been a decent attack dog, just point her at someone and off she went. Now that she was dead, maybe she could turn Sabrina into her new lead follower, she was already partially trained and it wasn’t like the blonde bitch was around anymore.

“I know, it’s so terrible. She was my first friend when I moved here, it’ll be so hard without her,” she faked a few more tears. And just like that, Sabrina took her hand in comfort and said a bunch of soothing words while she continued to fake cry. 

After a moment, Lila placed the bag she’d been holding on the desk and pushed it away from her, making sure the action caught Sabrina’s attention. “What’s that?”

Lila fake sobbed even harder, hiding her face in her hands. “Ma-Marinette, she-she said it was m-my fault that Alya’s dead. She practically threw that bag at me and said to use it,” she said before breaking down in more fake sobs.

Carefully opening the bag, she gasped when she saw it was full of razor blades and a couple of kitchen knives. Sure, she knew that Marinette didn’t get along with Lila, but to actually give this to her and tell her to ‘use it’? How could she be so cruel?

Serafina scowled as the red head hugged the liar and promised her that she would take care of it. Her anger erupted as Sabrina stood from her desk with the bag in hand, and began walking towards Mme. Bustier’s desk. The girl didn't take two steps before tripping over nothing and falling onto her side. Luckily, she did not land on the bag. Unluckily, she gripped it too tight and the impact forced the knives and razors through the bag and deep into her hands.

The girl screamed and cried as blood rushed out of the wounds and down into her sleeves. She begged Lila to help her, but the italian backed away from the girl in shock. Mme. Bustier gripped her head between her hands and began saying “not again, not again” before running out of the room. The only ones that helped her were Juleka, Rose and Ivan; the smaller girl sprinting off to alert the nurse and the principal, while Juleka and Ivan got Sabrina to her feet. Ivan kept the girl upright and moving out the door while Juleka held the girl’s hands above the level of her heart to keep her from bleeding too much.

Those left in the classroom were in shock as they stared at either the door or at the blood staining the floor. No one said anything for a long time, not even Lila. She hadn’t thought anyone would get hurt. She just thought she would get Marinette suspended and everyone would be on her side again. Adrien returned before the others, completely shocked when he saw the blood and Kim explained to him what had happened. The blonde sent a scathing look at Lila but said nothing.

It was a while later before Rose, Ivan, and Juleka returned to class, along with M. Rupere. He informed them that their classes were cancelled for today. “After everything that has occurred this week, I’ve decided that all of you will be meeting with the counselor today. He will decide if more sessions are necessary and for who, but his door and mine are open if you need to talk. M. Deveraux will come to speak with you one at a time. Kim Le Chien, he had requested to speak with you first. Mlle. Rossi,” he looked sternly at the girl, “would you please follow me, we need to talk about the incident with Sabrina Raincomprix.”

Serafina smiled as the liar trudged out of the room after the man. She was satisfied with Sabrina’s punishment and doubted if Mme. Bustier would last another day before having a total mental breakdown. She also knew that Lila would be in even more trouble after M. Rupere looked into the girl a bit more. But just to make sure, Serafina touched her on the way out. To most people, that would do nothing; but to someone like Lila, it would cause her to become more and more unhinged until she did something drastic. Very soon, Lila would be out of the picture and those deserving of punishment will have paid their debts.

~oOo~

It was more difficult sneaking home with Adrien than she had expected, especially with the tiny god of Chaos and Destruction in his bag. Plagg was his name, and he was very defensive of his kitten and had threatened to cataclysm her. Serafina told him that she would not purposefully harm his ‘kitten’, but there was something she had to take care of at the Agreste Mansion. The doll had long suspected that Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth and she was going to find out tonight if it was true. Plagg was reluctant to agree since it would hurt Adrien; but if it was true, they had to put an end to it.

After arriving at the mansion, Plagg easily convinced the boy to sneak out and check on Nino. After he left, Serafina sensed something on Adrien’s desk. Being an enchanted/haunted object, she could sense other objects like herself… such as Miraculous jewels. And right there on the desk was a pin shaped like a peacock, one of the jewels that had been missing and used by Mayura. If there had been any doubts before about who had been terrorizing Marinette, they were gone. 

Tucking the pin into her small outfit, she began to search the building, starting with Gabriel’s office. She had expected the man to be present, but he was missing. And given that Hawkmoth was a very active user, she had no doubt that he kept his jewel on him at all times. So, she waited.

It was about an hour later that Gabriel Agrest entered the room, and not from the door Serafina had expected. The man had a secret entry in the floor in front of a portrait of a woman. He was muttering on knowing better than to use Bubbler again, but that the negative emotions had been too strong to ignore. She also saw the purple kwami hovering over his shoulder, but the creature stopped when it sensed her. Gabriel strode out of the room, barely noticing that Nooroo had stayed behind and flew over to the doll hiding behind the desk.

“What are you doing here? If the Master finds you, he will destroy you.” The kwami said with worry.

The doll conveyed that she knew that his master was Hawkmoth, just as her human was Ladybug. She was here to protect her and return the butterfly and peacock miraculous to their rightful place. Also knowing that Gabriel had become too corrupted for his miraculous.

“I’ve tried to tell him that the wish would be dangerous,” Nooroo told her with downcast eyes. “He wants to make a wish to revive his wife, but he doesn’t realize that the cost would be to put Adrien, someone he loves equally as much as Emilie, into the same state of death. She isn’t even truly alive anymore, her body only lives because of the machine she is in.”

An idea spawned in Serafina’s thoughts and she barely kept herself from smiling. She asked Nooroo to help her activate the secret passage so she could get to his wife, but the little kwami shook his head. “Even if I could get you down there, the motion sensors would trip and he would attack you.”

Smiling this time, Serafina promised the little god that Gabriel would not attack her. That she would make sure that Adrien would be safe and the two kwami’s would go to their rightful place. All he had to do was help her open the door. Although reluctant and slightly scared, the little god opened the door, hoping that the nightmare would finally end. 

Down in the lair, the doll saw the mechanical coffin placed in the center of the room and went to it. The motion sensors caught her quickly, but she had been planning on moving fast anyway. Opening the coffin, she settled herself into the woman’s arms. Nooroo had been right, Serafina could sense that the woman’s soul had departed from her body a while ago and it was only the machine that was keeping her body alive. With no other soul to contend with, this would make what she was about to do next all the easier.

Nathalie had called to alert him the moment the alarms went off in the lair while she and Simone were out on an errand. He was moving faster than he could remember with Nooroo following close behind. Gabriel transformed on the way down, prepared to attack whoever had stumbled in, but his breath caught in his throat halfway down when he got a good view of the room. 

The coffin was empty.

Rushing forward, he began frantically searching the room for his wife, calling her name. He turned to rush back upstairs and froze. Standing behind him, looking dazed, was his wife. Her eyes were unfocused and her arms were hugging her middle, but it was her. Dropping his transformation, Gabriel cautiously approached her and she flinched back from him. It took a few minutes and a lot of gentle coaxing before he was able to wrap an arm around her shoulders and lead her to the elevator. When they got to his office, he watched her carefully as she began walking around the room. He wanted her to sit down and rest, but he was still in shock that she was awake and standing in front of him.

Eventually, her green eyes met his. “Where’s Adrien?”

“I… I don’t know, he should be up in his room.”

Emilie’s head tilted slightly, her eyes searching his. “What have you done? Did you make the wish?”

“No, my love. I was going to when I got the jewels, but Ladybug and Chat Noir evaded me.”

Tears grew in her eyes as she continued to stare at him. “You tried to make the wish? Knowing that it would have cost our son’s life?” 

Gabriel froze. He hadn’t known that wishing Emilie to come back would cost Adrien’s… but Nooroo had tried to tell him. He remembered the kwami trying to tell him about the cost and he had forced him to not speak. “I’m sorry, Emilie. I didn’t-”

“You knew,” she interrupted, her voice lacking any emotion as she continued to stare at him. “You knew from the beginning that what you were doing was wrong, evil. You chose to ignore what it would cost.”

“Emilie, my love, please don’t say such things,” Gabriel begged as he rushed forward to wrap his arms around her. “All I have wanted since the day I lost you, was to hold you in my arms again and hear your voice. I was lost without you and was willing to go to the ends of the earth to bring you back. Is that so wrong?”

He had just barely met her eyes when he felt the twin pains in his arms. Jumping back, he looked down to see both wrists had been cut deeply with a pair of his fabric cutting scissors. Blood was draining from the wounds at an alarming rate. His hands were shaking and he was already feeling light headed as he grabbed a handful for fabric from his work table in an attempt to slow the blood. He wanted to call out for help, but they were alone. 

His eyes grew hazed as he looked to Emilie, surprised that she was staring at him with such contempt. “I know what you’ve been doing while I was in that coffin. Tormenting the city and people I love, isolating our son and treating him like a burden. If you had ever succeeded in getting the Cat and Ladybug miraculous, it would have destroyed Paris. But you didn’t care. As you said, all you cared about was hearing my voice and holding me in your arms. Congratulations, your wish came true, and you will be the one to pay the price. Not Adrien.”

His legs gave out from under him as the fabrics dripped from the excess blood. He couldn’t understand how this had happened, Emilie would have never done something like this… but was this really her? With his vision fading, he took a hard look at his wife, only now noticing the dullness of her eyes, the greying pallor of her skin, and the fact that she only seemed to breathe when she spoke… “Who are you?”

Her head tilted again, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly. “Serafina. Quite astute of you to figure that out in your state. Your wife’s soul passed on a long time ago, all you have been doing is preserving a corpse. And I was telling the truth; even if you had made the wish, it would have cost Adrien his life.” Her hand shot forward, removing the butterfly miraculous before he could stop her. “Your actions have hurt someone close to me and I could no longer stand back and allow it to happen.”

She stood, walking to his desk to pull out a piece of paper and writing something down before neatly folding it and leaving it on his desk.

“Wh… What…”

“You just wrote a letter to Adrien; admitting what happened to his mother, that you were Hawkmoth, and the reason why you did what you did.” She said calmly before looking back at him. “Whether he tells the rest of the world is up to him. As for the miraculous, I will give him a chance at redemption. Though if he should fail, you may be seeing him sooner rather than later. Either way, they will soon be back where they belong, with the guardian. And you, good sir, have just committed suicide after bringing your wife’s body upstairs, so you would be able to hold her in your arms as you died.”

Unable to sit upright anymore, Gabriel barely felt his body collapse to the floor. He was hardly aware of Emilie lifting one of his arms to tuck her body to his side. The last thing he was aware of was something that he swore would haunt him in the afterlife; a porcelain doll emerging from the folds of her clothes and standing beside them. It stood there on its own, watching him until he could no longer keep his eyes open and he took his final breath.

Taglist (even longer):

@themagicmistic​ @andromeda612​ @ramos123​ @t1dwarrior-of-earth​ @justanotherweirdo277​ @irisfox​ @thestrangestofthemall​ @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw​ @certainmuffinbagelcalzone​ @the-fandom-girl @wisecolorthing @mewwitch​ @luxurioushellgirl97​ @seraphichana @fantasiame​ @whydoexamsexist​ @wispyrainbow​ @legodetectivemalsblog​ @kindasoundslikealien​ @shadowangelreborn​ @kazedancer @unmaskedagain​ @7-sage-7​ @irontimetravelflower​ @ghostmaster83​ @izang​ @ulmban​ @plushbookworm​ @corabeth11​ @darkened-flame​ @caffeinetheory​ @iamablinkmarvelarmy​ @raiderofthelostbooks​ @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan​ @city-of-all-tunas​ @aadnrsstar​ @kitten12113​ @interobanginyourmom​ @pandacatxd​ @nerd-nowandforever​ @jesussavedevenme​ @zoiechance​ @the-smallest-kittenz @wonderbat91939​ @maskedpainter​ @tazer6787​ @that-girl-sakea @seesea22​ @with-forward-motion​ @ola-is-dead​ @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @bayball​ @2confused-2doanything​ @queen-in-a-flower-crown​ @sabrina1414 @ceres-zephyr​ @if-you-give-a-chat-a-cookie​ @zalladane​ @tails-and-scales​ @rumbelle18​ @sam-spectra​ @collegefae​ @pale-lady-dreamer​ @animegirlweeb​ @evaraux @consumeconstantly​ @iz-bell-saiah​ @puspa-san​ @wishing-to-be-a-fictional-chara​ @sassakitty​ @miraculous-ninja​ @fandom-trapped-03​ @idontfuking​ @sillyfishrubberducky​ @anonymousreviewer-t​ @i-am-fallen-angel​ @zotinha456​ @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen​ @chocolatecatstheron​ @crypticsabbat @startouchedqueen1318 @para-dox-normal​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @incredulous-reader​ @professionalfangirl1738​ @fangirlnerd001​ @redscarlet95​ @sixtyeightdays​ @iamtotalfandomtrash​ @tazanna-blythe​ @animehime94​ @mysticsoulgirl​ @miraculouspenta​ @local-witch-of-mn​ @roseinbloom02​ @senpaiweird​ @iggy-of-fans​ @tropestropestropes​ @sleep-deprived-aroace​ @comteqfr @neromerp13​ @prudencerika​ @galaxylightmoon @c-s-stars @spartanxhunterx @shadowhex99 @abrx2002 @lunartaravlar @theymakeupfairies @myazael @wannajointhecrabcult @some-weird-multifandom-girl @marvel--unsolved @kuroko26 @mcheang @nach0ava @syrencall @mexicantttt @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @enchanted-nerd @actual-disaster-human @mashmallow619 @clumsy-owl-4178 @hollowwisteria @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @fandom-trapped-03 @lunataravlar @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @mariposa-macaroon @starlightshield @255940g

[saturnsgrove-ed]

Saturn's Grove

Entry 1

Monday, June 14th, 2021

TW: eating disorders, ED behaviors, self loathing, mental health struggles, jokes about suicide that aren't actually 100% jokes, dark humor, abuse mention, dysfunctional family.

NOT A PRO BLOG. THIS IS JUST MY FEELINGS. NO THINSPO EVER.

Cw: 164

44lbs from next GW, 54lbs from UGW

!!! -Originally from an ed discord server personal vent channel ("diary" channels), for context on some of the points I've made in the second to last paragraph.

I am currently debating throwing all of my food away. I might. I probably will, actually. Give it to the chickens, let them gorge and grow fat and happy on my self induced suffering-- that sounds about right.

Anyway, what spurred this shit? Great question. Not planning on answering that so early here, but I'll preface, in short, with 🌟Family Trouble🌟 and past history of 🌟Abuse🌟

For future reference, if you see "🌟" Its a lovely tone indicator that I am being sarcastically reverent to that which causes me the most pain. :)

Escapist fantasies are nice, I've been thinking about dropping everything and moving to Missouri. But why the fuck would I move to Missouri? Not sure. Just like the landscape, I think. West Virginia, too. Anything that is 1: not the desert, and 2: at least three states away from my family, would be lovely. Do you ever get that desire to simply.. walk off into the wilderness and just die? Welcome to the vibe of my life! Death and escapism are irrevocably intertwined here, because isn't death just the ultimate escape?

Unfortunately, I am a coward, so the ultimate escape will have to wait until I have a breakdown severe enough to make me grow a pair and try it! Probably not gonna happen. As I stated before, I am, first and foremost, a 🌟coward🌟. Which, I suppose is what also leads to my terrible coping mechanism of lying in the face of danger or conflict -- instead of just coming out with it when things get shitty.

On to other things...

I have started a 3-ish day fast, a liquid fast because I am weak, to punish myself. I would like to be able to go for an entire month, we'll see how that goes. I was friends with someone, once, in an old ED server who managed an entire month before ending up in the hospital. I'd like to think I could manage it, and, due to living out in buttfuck nowhere Arizona, maybe I could just die! Doubtful Apologies if my humor offends, I'm really only partially joking, and... Well, you did come here of your own volition.

Also excuse my lengthy and roundabout ways to explaining things, 'tis the curse of an author who never writes in first person. Third person is far more appealing, but it would be strange to refer to myself as "Kaden", using pronouns that are not a single letter, or do not explicitly start with "m" and end with "e". Strange doesn't encompass it, really. You should try it sometime; write about yourself as though you're looking in from the outside. It's terribly revealing and I don't think I've ever been meaner to myself. You can only say "I hate myself" so many ways in first person perspective after all... second person is lovely, however. "You stupid bitch" "Why would you eat that" "This is why you're a fat, ugly fuck." Lovely, but third person? Oh man. So strange, but so satisfying. Reading it back later on is like reading a personal attack from a close friend, and it is terrible fuel for my self destructive tendencies -- alas, it is still just a bit too strange to do consistently.

This is what I was talking about when I referred to tangents, ironically enough. The idea of personal diary channels is actually a really interesting one; personal vent threads, the private and intimate illusion of a personal diary, yet the public scrutiny and possible ridicule of an open discord channel. My heart is palpatating at the very thought, though I suppose that could just be my vitamin deficiencies.

Anyway, that's all for now, but I'll be back soon enough, I'm sure. Don't be surprised if my writing style flips around a bit depending on my mood-- this is my lowest which, interestingly enough, lends itself to a rather in depth but still sarcastic and self depreciating voice in my words and explanations of things. Being buried by your own thoughts and feelings had that effect, I suppose.

Bye for now

[youllallriseintheink]

Your Own Medicine

Someone once asked me what it would take for Joey to start taking the ink-related problems in the studio seriously. I answered privately that I would show him. Well, here it is. (Or at least, my own best shot at fucking traumatizing the Drew.)

---

“They haven’t even started on the new branch of Heavenly Toys, and you increased their funding? Why?!” Joey yelled.

Grant looked only slightly nervous- a good sign, because lord knew he wouldn’t be if there were something to be mad about. “The basement where you wanted them to set up has a serious pest problem. The extra money is to call an exterminator. That’s all.”

Joey sighed. Of course. It was like everyone in this studio would take the slightest excuse to shirk work. “And they wouldn’t set up because the exterminator would have just torn everything down anyhow, right?”

Grant broke eye contact. This part was rather hard to believe, but it wasn’t his story, or his fault. “No. They said they heard growling down there. Someone described it as being like a wolf’s. They didn’t want to go down there until things were figured out.”

Now Joey understood. His prison for failed ink experiments was in the floor beneath where they were supposed to be setting up new toy-making devices. He’d just show Mr. Cohen the hatch from which the growling was coming from, and everything would get moving again! Time was money, after all. “Oh!” he chirped, getting up from his chair. “Okay, this is an easy fix. Come along.”

As soon as the door creaked open to the basement, Joey could tell that things would be a little more difficult than that. For starters, the lights refused to turn on. By the light of the floor above it, Joey could see a floor littered with ink stains, empty bacon soup cans, and other debris. It was the type of environment that made a person whisper their words, even when there was no need to. “Did they mention anything about the lights not working?” Joey whispered.

“No,” Grant whispered back. “This must be new. Maybe a result of the pests.”

There were some flashlights on the steps- as though someone had set them up for them. Joey stepped into the dark basement, Grant right behind him, leaving the thin beams of their flashlights as their only way of seeing once the door closed. Joey shivered. He really regretted the floor’s maze-like layout now. But, the plan remained the same- show Grant the hatch door, go back. Wouldn’t take more than ten minutes.

As they went on, the environment became more ink-soaked. The black floors and black walls were almost blinding, leaving the duo to rely on touch as much as eyesight to find their way. Not three minutes into their journey, Joey walked straight into a wall with a thud. The growl that emerged in response was none that he’d ever heard before. It didn’t sound like any of his ink creatures. What was more, it sounded close. Suddenly, going on until they found the hatch seemed like a very bad idea.

“You see?” Joey said, somehow finding it in him to sound confident. “I have an experiment right behind this wall. But it’s locked up, nice and safe. Tell the Heavenly Toys department to give me a couple hours, and they can get going. Alright?”

A second growl sounded. This one sounded closer. “You’re sure it’s locked up, Mr. Drew?”

“Yes,” Joey growled. Joey looked around with his flashlight, finding what he was looking for: a fire axe, hung up on the wall. He took it down and nearly threw it into Grant’s hands. “Here, take this if you’re so nervous. Leave the flashlight. I’ll lead.” Lord knew that Joey felt less anxious with one of them armed. Where were those growls coming from? Had one of his creatures mutated and escaped?

They carried on back. Joey thought he remembered the way they’d come- two lefts, two rights, another left... but he quickly found himself with no idea where they were. He could hear that creature coming closer- hear that third set of footsteps sloshing through the ink. Finally, they passed a projector playing a “Nightmare Picnic.” By the increased light, Joey could tell somewhat where they were, and he eased immediately. There was a floor map in one of the nearby rooms- he just needed to figure out which, and maybe they’d be okay. Then, a black, inky hand appeared from behind the wall. Joey screamed and dodged into a nearby room, locking the door behind them. The next thing he did was to hang his flashlight from the ceiling- it wasn’t much light, but it would have to do. Grant looked to Joey, desperate for guidance. He tried to say something, but Joey shushed him. There was paper and pencils on the table in front of them, so Grant wrote out his message instead.

What are we going to do?

Joey took a pencil and wrote back, stay quiet for a few minutes so that thing will go away, then leave. We can’t be far from the stairs up now.

I saw that thing’s face, Grant wrote back. It looked like Norman Polk. He wasn’t feeling brave enough to accuse Joey of anything, but he’d seen what he’d seen, and was very curious about what Joey would have to say about it.

Joey knew it was impossible. Sammy had noticed Norman getting infected about two weeks ago- long enough that he’d feel sick, but certainly not long enough to make him go crazy. He and Sammy weren’t planning on kidnapping Norman for another few days yet- they had plenty of time. It isn’t, Joey wrote.

Are you sure? He went missing a few days ago. And a few days before that, his wife asked me to talk to him because he had been acting really irrational and she didn’t know what was wrong. I don’t know what she expected me to do that she couldn’t- I guess she was just desperate. But he was very clearly on the brink of a mental breakdown. He even said that he needed to ‘go away’ for everyone’s good. Of course, I tried to steer him away from that and suggested he go to a hospital, but that was the last time I saw him. Maybe this was where he ended up.

Cold dread filled Joey as he read the message. There was no way- no way that the ink had affected Norman that profoundly after only a few weeks. But then... Joey thought of just how strange Norman was. His stalking, his strange questions, his reputation in the music room as an awkward creep. He was the kind of person whose movements, whose inflections of voice, whose shifty eyes all read strangeness- if not danger. Joey would have been surprised if the man didn’t have some sort of underlying issues. Maybe the ink had gotten to him quicker because of that.

Maybe you're right. We'll handle that once we've got the lights turned back on. But for right now, let's just focus on getting out. I think it's been long enough.

With that, the duo stepped out. The hallway was partially illuminated now, by a projector playing a Bendy cartoon against a wall. Joey hadn't made it five steps before a hand came out of the shadows and Joey felt himself being picked up by the collar and slammed against a wall. There could be no doubt now- his assailant was- or had been- Norman Polk, and looking none too good for a man only recently infected with ink. His entire right side was ink- his right hand black and cold as ice against Joey's chest while the other was white-knuckled and warm. Tendrils of ink spread across his face like veins, but left both of those angry, savage eyes untouched.

"What are you doing?" he growled. "You here to lock me up? Cause that's not gonna happen. Here to get rid of me So I can't spill your secrets?" It was almost amazing that such an animalistic voice could even produce words.

Grant spoke up. "Actually Norman-"

Norman turned to look at him briefly, then immediately turned back to Joey. "Oh. Or maybe you're here to do with him what you did to me, huh?"

Norman's lips peeled back from his teeth, blindingly white against the black ink. Then, with an animalistic bark, he began raining punches on Joey's face and chest with his right hand. Joey squeezed his mouth and eyes shut in a desperate attempt to keep the ink out. Momentarily, the blows stopped, and Joey heard Norman yell the words, "Stay out of this!" followed by Grant yelping in pain. It was in this moment that Joey managed to wriggle out of Norman's grasp, falling down onto the ink-flooded floor. "Run!" he yelled, before following his own advice. Hearing Norman roar with pain, he looked back to see that Grant had planted his axe in Norman's shoulder before following behind. Thankfully it seemed to be slowing him down. After they exited the illuminated hallway, they were in complete darkness, running into walls and feeling their way through. Finally, Joey saw it- the chink of light beneath the door that they'd escape through. Norman could be heard lumbering behind them, moving quickly but somewhat heavily. Stumbling over discarded cans and slowed by sticky ink, the pair made it to the exit and scrambled out. Joey locked the door behind them.

The two men looked at each other a moment. They were back in the light now, but it was as though they'd dragged the inky darkness back with them. Joey's face was covered in ink, along with the spot on his shirt where Norman had grabbed him. Grant had fared better, with only what resembled inky claw marks across his face. Finally, Grant broke the silence. "We need to talk. Your office or mine?"

Once they were safely out of the view of others, Joey attempted to explain himself. "Okay. I know that looked bad, but... but..." what explanation was there? Joey realized then that he'd have to kill Grant- he'd seen too much. At least it wasn't someone more irreplaceable. "I give up," he sighed, sitting back down in his chair.

Grant was evidently holding back tears. "You need to get this under control- whatever it is," he said, sounding more mournful than angry.

"I agree with you! And I promise I will!"

"Promise? With all due respect, Mr. Drew, a promise is what I make when I tell everyone that their delayed paychecks will be coming next week. I don't know, and I don't totally control it. And I have a feeling that this is the same way! I need more than a promise, Mr. Drew. Please."

"Go back to your office." Joey said in a low voice, hoping to be left alone. It really didn't matter what Grant thought of him if he'd have to kill him anyhow, and Joey was too emotionally drained to deal with this.

Grant got up to leave- normally this situation would terrify him, but after being the encounter with Norman, he was running low on fear. "That was my best friend. If you don't do anything to keep this from happening again, I'm calling in the police. I don't want to lose my income, but..."

"Now!" Joey yelled, and Grant finally obeyed. Joey hated the tone of Grant's voice. If he'd been yelling and hysterical, that would have been one thing, but he'd spoken as though he were only stating truths.

For the rest of the day and into the night, Joey was plagued with worries about how he’d purge that beast from his studio, whether Grant could leak his secrets before he got the chance to kill him, and whether anyone else could, like Norman, succumb to ink too quickly to be noticed. And who was to say that, after being hit in the face with Norman’s infected hand over and over, that he wasn’t infected himself? Everything had gotten so far out of his control.

Once he was unconscious, however, all of his thoughtful, adult worries vanished and only his most visceral fears remained. Only that creature plagued his nightmares, once again standing over him, a beast of black ink over sickly white skin, trickling down into that big, gaping mouth and over those teeth. In his dream, they were as sharp and bloodstained as the teeth of a wolf.

[bdwvi]

Hope In A Time of Crisis

Rabies, Scabies, Scurvy, Whooping Cough, Mumps, German Measles…

What do they all have in common? Epidemics that came, devastated lives and were eventually controlled…

In 1818, Ignaz Phillip Semmelweis was born into a world of dying women. The finest hospitals lost one out of six young mothers to the scourge of "childbed fever." A doctor's daily routine began in the dissecting room where he performed autopsies. From there he made his way to the hospital to examine expectant mothers without ever pausing to was his hands. Dr. Semmelweis was the first man in history to associate such examinations with the resultant infection and death. His own practice was to wash with a chlorine solution, and after eleven years and the delivery of 8,537 babies, he lost only 184 mothers--about one in fifty. He spent the vigor of his life lecturing and debating with his colleagues. Once he argued, "Puerperal fever is caused by decomposed material, conveyed to a wound. . .I have shown how it can be prevented. I have proved all that I have said. But while we talk ,talk, talk, gentlemen, women are dying. I am not asking anything world shaking. I am asking you only to wash. .. For God's sake, wash your hands."

But virtually no one believed him. Doctors and midwives had been delivering babies for thousands of years without washing, and no outspoken Hungarian was going to change them now! Semmelweis died insane at the age of 47, his wash basins discarded, his colleagues laughing in his face, and the death rattle of a thousand women ringing in his ears.

Growing up we thought that in 2020 we’d have flying cars and here we are teaching people how to wash their hands.

The panic occasioned by the current pandemic of Covid-19, the sickness caused by the latest strain of the corona family of viruses is arguably one of the worst in the last century. Many are in abject terror and utter confusion. In the midst of the crisis however we have a splendid opportunity to stem the breakdown the family has been suffering and plug its hemorrhaging. The partials lockdowns, inclusive of the temporary closure of schools and many companies shifting to a work form home mode of operation offers us a much needed reprieve from the ‘tyranny of the urgent’ ‘

In the first instance we have an opportunity to reconnect, or perhaps connect, for some, with ourselves. We can harness this time to create some distance from ourselves so we can see ourselves. In order to survive down here we need to breathe deeply up there, in the realm of the spiritual. To be absolutely clear, I am not in the least bit suggesting that the spiritually alert cannot or will not become victims of this disease. I am speaking of surviving the chaos, the madness, the panic, the anxiety, the crassness, the basal survival instinct that will drive us to selfish hoarding and such. The usual days and weeks of work and making the money doesn’t readily lend itself to that. If we consider it a kind of ‘Sabbath’ if you will, we can learn cease the rush, cease the busyness, cease the flurry of activity and mental clanging so we can center down.

When we take this time to center down it will allow us to be far more receptive and perceptive to those with whom we are closest, but are often farthest from in our quest to keep up with the Joneses. Take time to see, not watch those who share the space called home with you. See their hair length, see the dimple, see the birth mark. See the hopes dreams, fears and will to survive in their eyes. Hear their souls. Play together. Disconnect from the wires and wireless devices. Decide that you will carefully watch over the elderly and those living with disabilities in your community.

This is also a time when we can explore ways the family can share its soul with others by finding someone to share what may very well become limited goods and supplies with. Tragedy has a way of rehumanizing us or further dehumanizing us. Please let it be the former. The temptation to be self serving will likely increase exponentially. Resist. Allow that to be the mark by which your family will be distinguished. Lead by example so that legacy can be displayed before your children

The adage, the family that prays together stays together may yet prove to be the straw that breaks the back of this monster. This would be a good time to erect or re-establish the family altar. As you do allow the spirit of community to infuse your beseeching of God. Think of the other, think of the greater common good.

Consider this advice from one, Lynn Ungar

Sing. Pray. Center down. And when your body has become still,

reach out with your heart. Know that we are connected

in ways that are terrifying and beautiful. (You can hardly deny it now).

Know that our lives are in one another's hands. (Surely, this has come clear). Do not reach out your hands. Reach out your heart. Reach out your words. Reach out all the tendrils of compassion that move, invisibly, where we cannot touch. Promise this world your love--

for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, so long as we all shall live.

HOPE FOR THE INDIVIDUAL

Psalm 116:Psalm 116

1 I love the Lord, for he heard my voice;

he heard my cry for mercy.

2 Because he turned his ear to me,

I will call on him as long as I live.

3 The cords of death entangled me,

the anguish of the grave came over me;

I was overcome by distress and sorrow.

4 Then I called on the name of the Lord:

Lord, save me!

5 The Lord is gracious and righteous;

our God is full of compassion.

6 The Lord protects the unwary;

when I was brought low, he saved me.

7 Return to your rest, my soul,

for the Lord has been good to you.

Depending on an unreliable person in crisis is like taking off ava person's clothes on a cold day or like rubbing salt in a wound.

Depending on an unreliable person in crisis is like taking off a person's clothes on a cold day or like rubbing salt in a wound.

Prov. 20: 25 GNT

The Corona Virus has left us reeling from a sense of:

complexity

uncertainty

volatility

ambiguity

Remember

We cant predict the future but we know the one who is already there

We don't know the future but we know who holds it

2 Thes.3:16 May the Lord of peace himself continually grant you peace in all circumstances

The Lord of Peace, the prince of peace, Yahweh Shalom

Sovreign over all circumstances

Shepherds us through all circumstances

Saviour in all circumstances

Psalm 37: 25 I am old now; I have lived a long time,

but I have never seen good people abandoned by the Lord

Psalm 27: 1 The Lord is my light and my salvation

whom shall I fear?

The Lord is the stronghold of my life

of whom shall I be afraid?

Psalm 27: I remain confident of this:

I will see the goodness of the Lord

in the land of the living.

14 Wait for the Lord;

be strong and take heart

and wait for the Lord.

Be like Jeremiah who bought a field while he was in military confinement just before his nation was about to ransacked and his people taken away into captivity. Jer. 32:15 -  15 For this is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says: Houses, fields and vineyards will again be bought in this land.’

Jeremiah acted as one who knew that every crisis has an expiry date

He didnt allow his hopes and dreams to grind to a halt. He had a vision of life on the other side of the hill.

PRAYER FOR THE WORLD

Beloved around the world.

Heavenly Father, You have prepared your throne in the heavens and Your Kingdom reigns over all. Watch over us Lord and keep us safe. Despatch Angels from Heaven to the four corners of the earth and cover us in Your secret place. Lord preserve us from all evil and keep our eyes fixed on You, Father, at this time when it is so easy to panic and worry.

Almighty God, touch, strengthen and heal where healing is required. Release us from all fear, Father, and replace fear with your Spirit of peace - Your peace that surpasseth all understanding.

Father as we remain vigil, keep our eyes fixed on You, Jehovah Rohi, The Lord my Shepherd. Let us recognize Lord, that You alone can shield and protect us. We ask that the plague pass over us Lord. Draw men and women to You, Almighty God by the power of Your Holy Spirit, and release them from all bondage that would prevent them from drawing closer to You, Almighty God.

We ask all these things in the Name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth. Amen and Amen

Originally posted on my blog 

[warning-heckboop]

I had a dream last night--and I’ve never had a single dream that didn’t mean something important.

I just don’t know what this one means. I usually can figure out what they’re all leading to, but I can’t figure this one out. I can’t remember some aspects of the dream, so I’m wondering if I forgot something important.

If anyone wants to help me sort this stuff out, I’ll put a brief summary and the related dream symbolisms under the cut.

I only remember bits and pieces of this dream, if I’m honest, but here it is:

I was in a hospital room. I vaguely remember being told I was ill, but so was the person who was with me. There was a man, who, in the dream, looked like Justin from 13 Reasons why, but didn’t act like him. He was sweeter, gentle. We were both ill, and scared, so we slept in the same bed, cuddling. Next thing I remember, we were sitting in a bathtub together, fully clothes but in water. I vomited, but only briefly, and away from him. Suddenly, I’m out of the bathtub, and he’s still in it, with another woman sitting beside it. He started to vomit himself, except it was non-stop. I found myself avoiding him because of it. 

Then my dream shifted, as they often do. I found myself in a warehouse, one that seems partially abandoned, rushing somewhere with some people because we were late. When we arrive at the destination, which seems to be some office inside the warehouse, we’re told to grab some boxes, because we’re apparently helping someone move.

That’s all I remember, at the moment. Related dream symbols are found below:

To see or dream that you are in a hospital symbolizes your need to heal or improve your physical or mental health. You need to get back to the flow of everyday life. Alternatively, the dream suggests that you are giving up control of your own body. Perhaps you are afraid of losing control of your body.

To dream that you have an illness denotes despair, unpleasant changes, or some emotional breakdown. The illness may be symbolic of your inability to cope with a situation. You see that being ill is an easy way out.

To dream that you are cuddling with someone indicates your need for physical and/or emotional contact. Do not overlook the obvious meaning of this dream which suggests your heart's desire for that particular person. Also consider the symbolism of that person you are cuddling with and determine how you need to acknowledge, accept, and unify those qualities in yourself.

To see or be in a bathtub in your dream suggests a need for self-renewal and escape from everyday problems. You need to rid yourself of the burdens that you have been carrying.

To dream that you are vomiting indicates that you need to reject or discard an aspect of your life that is revolting. There are some emotions or concepts that you need to confront and then let go.

To see someone vomiting in your dream signifies the false pretenses of people who are trying to take advantage of you.

To dream that you are avoiding a person in your dream suggest that you are not confronting some aspect of yourself.  Consider what aspects and characteristics of the person you are avoiding which you are not recognizing in yourself.  Alternatively, this word may also be a pun for "a void" in your life that you have been unable to fill.

To see a warehouse in your dream represents stored energy or hidden resources. The warehouse also refers to memories. Alternatively, the warehouse means that you are putting your ambitions and goals on hold.

To see an abandoned or empty warehouse indicates that your inner resources have been depleted. You need to take some time off to restore your energy and replenish your resources.

To dream that you are late signifies your fear of change and your ambivalence about seizing an opportunity. You may feel unready, unworthy, or unsupported in your current circumstances. Additionally, you may be overwhelmed or conflicted with decisions about your future. Time is running out and you no longer have time to accomplish all the things you want. Alternatively, being late in your dream could be telling you that it is better late than never.

To see an office symbolizes practicality, status, accomplishments and your place in the world. If the office in your dream is unfamiliar or strange, then it suggests that you are comparing yourself to someone else. You are measuring yourself against other's standards.

To dream that you are helping someone move indicates that you are afraid of change. You are not quite ready to confront some new situation by yourself. Alternatively, to help someone move implies acceptance of some new change, even though you may not agree with it. 

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the word

Thanks @dyrewrites for the tag!

Slowly but surely catching up on these.

My words: follow, lead, smile, trust, hollow

Your words: fling, grand, edge, truth

Tagging softly with no need to participate , @blind-the-winds @little-peril-stories @loopyhoopywrites @mjjune @i-can-even-burn-salad @ahordeofwasps @addicted2coke-theothercoke @finickyfelix @coven-archives @annetilney + anyone else

TSP intro

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Keep reading for:

Gang finds the Gateway

Rose and Maddie have a bit of an argument

Greyson gives Lexi a candy cane

Jesus Christ when are Ewan and Jazlyn gonna confess their feelings

Niri and Ash talk about Hannah (Ash's sister)

Follow - from The Secret Portal Part One (Maddie POV)

“We should wait a few more minutes,” Noelle continued. “They’re just late. There’s no need to freak—” “Wait,” Rose said, holding up her hand, cutting Noelle off. Rose stepped forward, her eyes focused on something. She pointed down the sidewalk, at the corner of the building. “Did y’all see that?” The rest of us turned to follow Rose’s finger. “A wall,” Noelle deadpanned. “No, the weird shimmering effect.” I squinted harder. “I don’t see anything.” “Me neither,” said Gwen, arms still crossed. Kelsey shook her head. Rose sighed through her nose, then slowly walked to the corner. Once she reached it, she gestured to it like something was there. “Rose,” said Noelle, “there’s nothing there.” Rose huffed, then tilted her head, thinking. Slowly, she stuck her hand wrist-deep into the wall. Kelsey yelped an expletive in surprise before slapping her hand over her mouth. Gwen’s eyes widened, arms dropping to her side. “How— How did—” She sputtered, gesturing her hands slightly toward the wall. “What?!” “Damn,” Noelle said, uneasily crossing her arms over herself. “Cool,” I said. Because it was. Rose turned back to us. “Told you there was something there,” she said, seemingly unfazed. “I think I know where Lexi and Ash may be. It’s worth checking out.” She slipped off her backpack, set it on the ground, and stepped forward into the wall. She disappeared, leaving us all in silence.

Lead - from The Secret Portal Part One (Maddie POV)

“What’s happening?” Rose murmured. “You lead us through a death portal,” I muttered, joking slightly. Rose swiveled her head toward me. “Excuse me? You were the one who had a mental breakdown when Lexi didn’t answer her damn phone!” “Well, Lexi and Ash ended up here, so I had the right idea,” I said, not sure why she was mad. “Fine. You were right. Gold star.” Rose glared down at me. “And don’t blame me for what happened to Noelle.” “It’s partially my fault,” I said, lightly pushing her away from my face. “I suggested Lexi's disappearance, but you led us here, so a bit of yours, too.” Rose stepped toward me again. “This. Is not. My fault.” “I said it’s partially my fault,” I insisted, pushing her away again. She pushed me back this time, which irritated me. I only pushed her because she was in my face. “Why don’t you admit you’re partially responsible for Noelle’s injury?” I pushed in retaliation this time. “We’re gonna get her to a hospital, and then we’re gonna look for my sister, who you seem to have forgotten about because you’re too wrapped in yourself to care if Lexi’s okay.” I bit my tongue. That wasn't a good thing to say. I wasn't sure where it came from. Rose’s jaw clenched. She lifted her fist—I thought she would push me again, but she just jabbed me with her finger on every word— “Don’t. Ever. Say. I don’t care about Lexi. She means more to me than you could imagine.” “I’m her sister,” I pointed out. “How could you—” I poked her back— “imagine how much she means to me?” Rose took a step back. She looked down at her feet for a second. I did the same. Gwen pointed out I was arguing earlier when I didn’t mean to, which sometimes happened to me. Arguing wasn’t gonna get Lexi—or Ash—back, and it wasn't gonna get Noelle to a hospital either. I wondered if Rose would hate me forever after this. Kelsey let out an exhale that buzzed her lips. “So,” she said slowly, “let’s find help for Noelle, then we’ll look for Lexi and Ash.”

Smile - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

“Lexi?” Mrs. Korrin asked. “Don’t you have a partner?” I looked around the room. “No, everyone else is taken.” “Hm, I know we have an even number of kids—” The door slammed open, and a kid with messy dark hair was panting in the doorway. “Greyson,” Mrs. Korrin sighed, “is it going to be like this every day?” “Sorry, Mrs. Korrin,” said Greyson, moving to his seat. “Not so fast, we’re partnering up, and Lexi doesn’t have a partner. Get your worksheet, and come sit next to her.” Greyson obeyed and sat in the empty seat beside me. He turned to me, smiling. I didn’t return it. Greyson’s smile faded and he awkwardly tapped his pencil on the desk. My hand moved up to my hair and took off the hairtie. “You okay?” Greyson finally asked. “Yeah, I’m fine, let’s do the worksheet,” I muttered quickly as I undid the braid by running my fingers through it. Greyson pursed his lips, then reached into his bag. “Candy cane?” I crinkled my nose. “It’s August. How old is that?” “Candy canes last, like, years.” “That’s years old?” “No, it’s fresh.” “It’s August.” Greyson still held out the peppermint stick to me. I sighed and accepted his gift, with full intent to throw it away later. I looked over at Ash and Shelby. Ash laughed at something Shelby said. “Dude, that was a perfectly good candy cane!” I looked down at my hand. The candy had snapped in two. “Sorry, Greyson,” was all I managed. “Let’s just do this work.”

Trust - from The Secret Portal Part One (Gwen POV)

A tall girl with dark skin and hair in many braids was sparring in a matted section with a shorter, stocky guy wearing some sort of protective suit. A stream of fire shot out of the girl’s fist, and the guy disappeared in a flash of turquoise light. He appeared right behind her, which the girl predicted, leaping in the air and shooting fire out of a powerful kick. The guy in the suit teleported away again, though not before his suit was singed by the fire. Thrown off-balance, the guy’s teleport was unstable, and he fell to the ground, though regained his balance quickly enough to where I was impressed. The girl helped him up and she removed his helmet, revealing a mess of dark brown helmet hair. They said something to each other that I couldn’t hear. “Aww,” Wade crooned. “It’s been nearly five years,” said Parker. “One more, I win.” “I bet this December,” said Robbie. “Running out of time.” “At least yours can still happen,” said the guy who had been arm-wrestling with Sam—Liam. “I bet one year.” “You’re betting on when they’re gonna ask each other out?” I asked, not being able to decide if this was mean or funny. “And which one of them will do the asking,” said Liam. “It’s only for fun,” Robbie added, picking up on my uncertainty. “Most of us think Jazlyn, but Tyler thinks Ewan’s got it in him,” Akash said. “Trust me,” said Tyler, folding his arms over his chest. “Ewan’s a sap. He’ll make it a whole thing with candles.” “Tyler says if he gets the candles, it’s double,” said Liam. “How much are y’all betting?” “Everyone who participates,” Gabriel explained, “which is everyone, will have to pay whoever’s closest five bucks.” “So ten each?” “Yep,” said Tyler. “So if I’m right about Ewan and the candles, I get eighty bucks. Or 230-something wamps.”

Hollow - from The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

“She never told me about you,” I said. I felt a jolt. “It’s not personal. She wasn't allowed to talk about the Alii with me, and if she brought you up, it would have led to questions as to how you met.” She could’ve made up an online friend, Niri muttered as he slumped back in the chair. The pain in my chest. A warmth. Anger? Was he angry with Hannah for not telling me about him? She didn’t pry into my personal life, so why should I pry into hers? Still, Niri was upset. “Y’know, I could see if I could hook y’all up?” Niri glanced at me, seeming to perk up as the pain dissipated. I allowed myself to smile a tad. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.” Niri gave a soft smile. Thank you. I would love that so much. I returned the smile, then glanced at the gloves on the table. “Why did you want me to enter your mind instead of putting on your gloves?” Some things get lost in translation, said Niri. And… I dunno. I guess I wanted to have a conversation without a language barrier for once. It’s not like I can use the gloves on Ceteri outside of home. I got a hollow feeling in my gut. In my chest. It seemed as if Niri tried to cover it up as he said, I also already had them off. Didn’t want them to get wet as I worked. “You don’t wanna work while I’m here, do you?” Niri didn’t have to answer in his head for me to know he didn’t. “It’s okay. I need to go spend time with my friends anyway. My other friends.”