#yes my best friends hallucinations are real and currently possessing him

[bugsbenefit]

Joyce and Mike are constantly operating based on "it's not paranoia if you're right" and that has somehow worked out for them because they've never been wrong

Mike Wheeler 🤝 Joyce Byers - Embracing insane levels of delusion that have people questioning their sanity, but being right

[sapphire-innit]

DRISTAAAAA TIMEEE

VOD: TommyInnit Speaks To Dream’s Sister AGAIN

(rp): Drista!! I love this chaotic child and am looking forward to seeing the children bully each other lmao. I especially love the mythos around Creative mode, and that the most benevolent god on the Dream SMP is just as likely to ban you as hand you a shulker box lol.

I do wonder how in character cc!Tommy is going to be able to stay during this stream: on one hand he’s a master at staying in character even during lh moments, and on the other Exile arc is some Dark Shit and Dristas like what, 14?? Overall I expect this to be one of the lighter streams, with a smattering of moments where we remember that, oh right, Tommy’s pretty actively suicidal at this point and he sees this as one of his last hurrahs.

Speaking of our boy Tommy: it's very clear we are getting closer and closer to the infamous pillar. He switches rapidly between Fight and Fawn reflexes and has mostly internalized Dream’s treatment and conditions at this point. The one stand out moment being him calling out Dream killing Mexican Dream last stream, and pointing out he was changing his story even when Dream tried to lie and say he died of “a drug overdose [...] or natural causes”. I’m curious if Tommy is going to bring it up again, and even more curious if he eventually believes Dream about it; something to watch out for, for sure. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this moment of rebellion happened right after he had someone both stand up for him and spend time with him that wasn’t actively hostile or going to end (supposedly, at least by intention)

Hey we didn’t start off drowning for once!! cc!Tommy was also singing, though that could have been mostly out of character as well. Still, remarkably in a better mood, he even mentions having an appetite! You love to see it, and it's clearly because he’s looking forward to Drista’s visit

He’s building a log tower and on one hand, Tommy building Towers is a natural state of being, and on the other…. I know the pillar is coming and I am scared

A mention of the Anti-Dream hole… I still worry about when exactly and how Dream is going to find it. Still, I’m glad it exists, both for Tommy having a space for things important to him, as well as what it represents about his mental state re:not giving over completely to Dream

DRISTA!!!! LOL she was already online we didn't even see her join LOL. CHAOS GREMLIN she just flew over in creative mode and started wrecking shit, as is her right lmaoooo

“You massive jer--, (quieter) whats a nicer way…, YOU MASSIVE DICKHEAD” oh, Tommy..

I like how he tries to punch her even when shes CLEARLY IN CREATIVE MODE ADSADASD

The violence inherent in fourteen year olds,,,, adsfsadfsdfds

I hate this conversation why is this the conversation asdffdsfsd TEENAGERS

DREAM YOUR NOT EVEN A TEENAGER WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING THE SAME LOGIC

Well SHE can destroy the obsidian asdfsdfds She just Spleefs

“What would Dream do” Probably worse lets be honest

Is he actually gonna go back to L’manburg?? I don’t believe it but I also want :(

Again with the stabbing

AND DOWN HE GOEEEESSSS

“I have the fork, but I'm also killing you” afsafsdfdsf Tommy why are you wearing your good shit omg

Lol cc!Dream trying to defend his character for mocking Tommy’s accent adsfsdfds “I would NEVER” in the totally not believable tone lmaoooo

DID SHE REALLY GO AT HIM WITH A FORK I'M FUCKING DYING DSAFDADSFDS

“I will take it from you and I’ll kill him”... I have so many thoughts about how this works in lore. Is Drista possessing Dream? He can kick her out clearly, but she still has God Powers…

Lol and now SHES mocking his accent lmaoooo (... is it bad she sounded pretty close to me? lol)

Adsfdsfswd casual chaos Drista just broke the Nether Portal

Asking Drista to stop destroying things is a big ask to be honest lmaoo. Also she seems to be at least somewhat informed that ‘Dream is not supposed to be nice to Tommy’ or at least seemed hesitant to do /weather clear

GOD THE LAVA BUCKETS AND THE POTION OF HARMING adsfsdfsdf

“Tommy [beheaded him] actually… and killed Mexican Dream” Dream you motherfucker

“How to Sex 3” THE PANIK!!!!!! From Both cc!Dream and Tommy!!! This server is Not Child Friendly lol (Doesn’t…. That not even include sex things…. afasfsd)

Honestly I can’t stop smiling this is so wholesome somehow even with all the cursing and violence

Pigstep IS a bop, Tommy is right

“Just let him, just let him this one time” :(

“Tommy I still have the Fork” Drista totally willing to stab her brother to visit L’manburg

HE TOOK THE FORK ASDASDAS

Yes, closing your eyes will totally protect you from Forks lol

“I don’t need school, I dropped out” Is this Lore Crumbs, is this Lore

HEYYYY ITS THE BEDROCK, the one piece of bedrock he has lol, I think he still has that in current day right?

Drista is writing her name in BEDROCK adsfsdfds “I’m not going to be able to get rid of that actually” “That's the Point”

LOL SHe also recognized the burrito as from Mos lmaooo

Somehow “I really want to go to the other place.. I don’t know why he won’t let you” hit hard… it was def ooc, and she doesn’t have the full context, but still… its just someone else wanting and asking for Tommy to be able see L’manburg…

Afsdfsd the Small Gasp when she spleefs herself omgg

HES THERE!!! HES THERE!!!!!! L’MANBURG!!!!!!

Punz!!! WHY!!!! Were you there bc Drista might let Tommy through, was this a safeguard for the LORE. Also he’s currently working for Dream directly right, as a merc?

Drista trying to save Tommy!!!! Punz why are you winning a fight with someone in creative adfsadfsd He’s too good lol

They have negotiated a visit… I’m so emotional I wasn’t expecting this…. No one told me we got a real L’manburg visit !

BIG Q SHES FOURTEEN!!! Omg they didn’t tell him it was Drista. BIG Q!!! BIG Q DON’T SELL HER DRUGS

“He was Naked” good for you Drista, good for you. There’s something so hilarious about Drista just stabbing Quackity over and over again cause she’s uncomfortable lol (as is her right)

LOL THE FINAL KILL WITH MAGIC WHEN HE’S ALREADY DROWNING IM

Wha --- what video was it????? What is this Tommy picture on the Technoganda???

….”are you sure I’m allowed here” Dream’s conditioning is strong :(

“At many minute I could get mugged” To be Fair Tommy, that was true before

Did Tommy just suggest spawning in a Wither asdfsdfds

DRISTA DOG ARMY!!!! Aww and Tommy has one too~

THE BENCH!! THE HOUSE!!! Aaaaaaaaa He’s sitting on the bench nature is HEALING

AAAAAAAA A BLAZE!!!! Pfffft

…. Who destroyed the front of Tommys house?

,,,,Drista what are you doing with that soULSAND

“OK we'll turn on him” adsfsdfsd

OH HEY TECHNO!!! Lol “Oh god he meant me” fucking mood big man

……. Tubbo hallucination……… fuck

LOL HE COMBAT LOGGED “YOU CALL THAT COMBAT” I'M

To be fair, logging against a /kill is probably the only way to get away lmao

…...F

“Getting thrown off a cliff is literally how Theseus died!!” lol its also hilarious to me that Tommy def does not remember being called that. Personally I don't think it fits him super well anyway, but I do like it as something Techno calls Tommy, that shows how much he misjudges Tommy's character and intentions. No heroes here, just a kid trying to do good by their friends and what they care about

Techno actually looking up how to kill someone in creative mode

…. :( I just want my actual clingyduo content this is meeeeannn

OH HEY TECHNO …. You fucker he would and it would be HILARIOUS (get mad if Drista opped Techno that is lol)

….

….

IS THIS WHY THEY’RE BEDROCK BROS????? BECAUSE THEY BOTH HAVE DRISTA BEDROCK??????????????????????????

HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS ???

LOL TRUE DUO SUPREMACY TUBBO’S GOT TECHNO'S BEDROCK

Oh F Techno got him with the Obliterator lmaoooo

“I have 114 levels PLEASE” asdfdasfsdf

LOL Tubbo with the TNT there's our nuke boy, I'll take my crumbs where I can get them

THE SHULKER HOLY SHIT

“Don't let someone get it!!”” ADSFDSAFSDFDS they all tuRN CC REAL QUICK WHEN THE SHULKER BOXES COME OUT

Awesamdudes like: MORE PLEASE AFDASFDSF

Techno immediately snitching about Elytra and dRISTA GETTING THE ACHIEVEMENT

EVERYONE SNITCHING IN CHAT I'M!!!! DREAMS REACTION ASDFSDFDSF

Drista being the chaotic giver of illegal gifts is so fucking good I'M THRIVING

THE RUN ON PUNZ !!!! omg

Also can we just take a minute to appreciate Tommy being allowed around people <3 <3 This is so wholesome and good and chaotic as all hell

“I thought I was Tom Cruz for like a whole week” ...TOMMY??

LOL SHE BANNED TECHNO OMG

Dristas on a banning Rampage afsdfsdf

BAN GOGGY OMGGG

Omg shes actually making a wITHER DASDASDFAS

Oh no poor Tubbo I didn’t know he was liVE

319k viewers jeezus

Awwwww Techno hyping up Wilbur's song :) that's so sweet actually

…………….Fuck you Dream :( saw the chance to Twist the Knife in c! And TOOK IT

LOL THE FUCKING FORK IS THE BEST BIT LOLLLL

Lol ironically the Bedrock bros song is the oNE COPYRIGHTED ONE, god why did Minecraft ever copyright Pigstep what a shit move honestlyyy

Pigstep fucking goING TO TECHNO LOLLLLLL “this is the most powerful item on the server since it DMCA’s people”

LOL PUNZ TRYING TO STEAL ANOTHER SHULKER

Poor Sam he actually has to BUILD give this man a SHULKER

Lol Everyone wants a shulker so much

….aww he tried to toss the pigstep disc lmaooo DRISTAS LITERALLY HOLDING IT Scaaaaaammmmed

Drista “I NEED IT ON HAND” So committed to violence !!!

The fucking creepers on the way out omg fuckign PERFECT

LOL TOMMY WASN’T READY FOR THE TURN AROUND ON CURSING LMAO You can tell he's always been the youngest who people aren't sure how much they can curse around lmao He's so soft honestly he talks such a big game and then CRUMBLES when called on it lol

Asfdsfs she fell through the same hole again afsdfsdfsd

Drista has been introduced to a Weapon and she’s gotten ATTACHED lmaooo

Wait HOLD THE PHONE Dream has multiple sisters??? Lol

“Yeah I like Shit” Dream: “whAT???”

Bye Drista it’s been nice!!! I hope she had a good time, she seems like a good kid (who is definitely not a content creator lol though she keeps up admirably)

Drista’s one of the few people who can make Tommy speechless lmaooo he looks actually shocked lol

Also first mention of GhostInnit…. cc!Tommy…..

Keep preparing…. Was his original plan to rush Dream even if (maybe especially if…) he died? Fuck man

Also holy shit was this stream right before Quackitys? ? amazing

This was honestly such a BLAST and a really good time, and I can see why its viewed as one of the few breaks we get during Exile :) I feel so refreshed and it was so so nice to have Tommy hanging out in L’manburg having fun with his friends (even if Tubbo was stuck being a Hallucination and Also Banned lol) No deeper insight, I just haven’t stopped smiling for an hour and a half <3

[toutallyahoe]

Everybody Talks ~ Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyuu) pt 2

requested by: --

a/n: holy shit— i had to break this one shot into three parts?!?

ugh, this is why i prefer wattpad and quotev bruuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhh

you gremlins better enjoy this

part one | part two | part three

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"Hey sugar show me all your love?

All you're giving me is friction,"

It had been already a week and a half and his soulmate finally stopped listening to the song like it was god or something. Well, his soulmate never fully stopped as his soulmate seemed to play on it occasionally from time to time but it wasn't like earlier in the week where Hajime could barely sleep or focus on anything since the song was blasting on his ears in full volume.

Hajime was thankful that his soulmate finally regained their sanity back to not blast the song on a loop twenty-four seven like a maniac.

Still though, instead of the song "Everybody Talks" by Neon Trees on loop, it was replaced by an instrumental of the said song. Not really much of a change but hey, it was more bearable with out the singer singing the lyrics so loud Hajime was sure he'll go deaf.

And yes, Hajime knows the name of the song and the band. How can he not be though when he had been hearing this one particular song again and again for a week and a half. It seemed like his soulmate changed their taste again. More or less. It was a common occurrence as the dark haired male seemed to noticed that his soulmate enjoyed listening to music a lot.

Hajime liked to think his soulmate was perhaps an aspiring musician as the dark haired male sometimes hear some songs he never heard of, even if he searched it in online as best as he could.

"Hey sugar what you gotta say?

It started with a whisper!"

Snapping out of his thoughts. Hajime sighed again when he heard the familiar song... again. It seemed like his soulmate was listening to the song again. Actually, his soulmate had been listening for it for awhile now but had had the volume down that the dark haired male could easily tune it out. But it seemed like his soulmate was trying to have their eardrums bursting again.

"And that was when I kissed her!

And then she made my lips hurt!"

Shaking his head, Hajime reminded himself to focus. Currently, he had been asked by a teacher of his to deliver a box. Having nothing to do as Mondays he doesn't have any volleyball practice, Hajime agreed to take the box towards the light music club.

"I could hear the chit chat!

Take me to your love shack!"

The dark haired male had a bit trouble locating the club room of the light music club though. Hajime wasn't one to be interested in other extra curricular activities and other clubs as he was busy with his own club to manage. Being the vice captain of the volleyball club full of raging testosterone and hormonal boys, and having to deal with their bullshit was enough already. Hell, he even had to deal with Oikawa Tōru and that guy was the president! You could tell the stress the dark haired male had to deal with every single day.

"Mamas always gotta back track!

When everybody talks back!"

Hajime shakes his head again as he turned his attention the the box on his hands. The box wasn't that huge nor heavy. Maybe a bit heavy and the dark haired male assumed it was some music instrument or some sheets of music notes. Either way, he has to be careful since who know what was inside and how he'll be in trouble if he messed whatever is inside the box.

"Everybody talks, everybody talks,

Everybody talks, everybody talks,

Everybody talks, everybody talks back!"

Shifting his gaze from the box to the doors he was passing by. Hajime made sure to read the signs of the door to find the light music club he had to deliver the box too.

"It started with a whisper!

And that was when I kissed her!

Everybody talks, everybody talks back!"

   

It took awhile for the dark haired male the light music club room. Turns out the club room of the light music club was on the third floor, the third to the last room of the end of the building. Looking at the door of the room, it was the same as the rest of the doors of the rooms in the school. The only thing new about it was the sign on top of the door said "LIGHT MUSIC CLUB" in a very neat, bolded writing. Hajime almost passed the room for a second as everything was the same if he wasn't looking for it.

Sighing, the dark haired male noticed his soulmate was rather quite. They had been for awhile and Hajime didn't know whether to be overjoyed or not. He had noticed that his soulmate was also going silent for awhile and would normally just listen to music late at night or around the end of classes. Maybe sometimes listening in classes but mostly skipped unlike what they used to.

This really made Hajime curious on why the change of schedule his soulmate is currently doing as his soulmate was relentless and would always jam out to their song. But right now, Hajime should focusing on the task at hand. Going back to reality and cursing his soulmate— even when they are not annoying him with their music blasting in full volume inside his mind, Hajime is still getting distracted by them. Cute but also, how annoying.

Looking at the door again then at the box in his hand. Hajime breathed in and out. He did not know why but oddly enough, he felt a bit nervous. Maybe he was just stressed out? Perhaps. The dark haired male really doesn't have a single clue.

The dark haired male decided to just get this over with. Swallowing the anxiety that just appeared out of nowhere, Hajime was about to knock on the door when the familiar song came inside his mind again, but this time... more louder...?

"Hey baby won't you look my way?

I can be your new addiction."

"What the hell...?" Hajime muttered, confused and bewildered. The dark haired male swore he was hallucinating the song his soulmate was playing all the time. He had to be right or perhaps he was having auditory problems? Maybe he finally lost it with his soulmate's non-stop jamming to the song that it made him finally gone insane.

"Hey baby what you gotta say?

All you're giving me is fiction."

It took a second or two for Hajime to realized he wasn't going insane for listening on a song for almost a week and a half non-stop. No, the dark haired male realized the song wasn't only playing inside his mind, but also somewhere in front of him. And Hajime looked at the door in front of him, he knows the sound was coming inside the light music club room.

"I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time,

I found out that everybody talks,

Everybody talks, everybody talks—"

The dark haired male didn't know what had came over him or what had possessed him to do such a thing, but he, Iwaizumi Hajime grabbed the handle of the door and hastily opened it.

"It started with a whisper!

And that was when I kissed her!

And then she made my lips hurt!"

The room had a cozy feel to it. It was like any room of the building in size but it had its own personality than the other rooms aswell. The window were covered with thick, black colored curtains that were shut tight at the moment. The walls were painted darker shade than the other room, a color of maroon.

Inside the room were chairs and some table on the side and most important of all, many different instrument raging from percussion to stringed and woodwinds instruments. There are mic stands and even a small podium inside the room. But Hajime wasn't focused on the room though. No, he was more focused on the person inside the room.

Inside the club room of the light music club was a lone male. This was [Last name] [Name]. Hajime only knew him because the male was the president of the light music club and had classes with his chocolate brown haired best friend.

[Name] had [Hair color] hair that was rather messy and wild looking and had its tips bleached white. [Skin color] skin that maybe held some imperfections that Hajime couldn't tell from the distance the two were in but the dark haired male noticed the [Hair color] haired male was wearing the Aoba Johsai school uniform.

Well, of course he was. [Name] was a student of the school after all, but the [Hair color] haired student seemed to had his white jacket discarded and put on a chair that was inside the room along with his bag. [Name] was standing in the small podium in the center of the room, two large speakers beside him that was blasting the rifts of the bass guitar that he was playing in his hands.

[Name] was wearing white headphones over his ears and had his eyes closed as he sang onto the microphone in front of his. His eyes closed, clueless to his own surroundings and was only lost to the music he was listening and singing too.

"I could hear the chit chat!

Take me to your love shack!"

Hajime felt his heart beating so fast inside his ribcage. He swore his heart would escape as he stood on the doorway of the room, frozen and gaping like a fish out of the water as his eyes widened in shock.

"Mamas always gotta back track!

When everybody talks back!"

Was this real? This had to be a joke, right?

Holy shit. His soulmate— his fucking soulmate wasn't farther away than he had thought. His soulmate was [Last name] [Name], the president of the light music club and they were only a few steps away from each other. Not the miles and miles apart Hajime had admitted to himself a long time ago.

"Hey honey you could be my drug?

You could be my new prescription."

Was this the reason he had been hearing the song "Everybody Talks" for a week and a half now? Because his soulmate was truly an aspiring musician?

"Too much could be an overdose!

All this trash talk make me itchin'!"

It seemed like Hajime wasn't wrong about his thoughts on his soulmate enjoying music because they had a passion for it. His soulmate, [Name], was literally the president of a club dedicated to music making!

"Oh my, my,

Everybody talks, everybody talks,

Everybody talks, too much..."

As Hajime continuously stood there like a statue, the [Hair color] haired male finally noticed him when he had opened his eyes to see the dark haired male.

"It started with a whisper..." [Name] softly sang as he then stopped strumming the bass guitar on his hands and took his headphones off his ears. Instead, he let the white headphones hang loosely on his neck as he jumped of the mini podium and went towards the frozen male.

"Uh, hey?" [Name] awkwardly greeted Hajime as he stood in front of the dark haired male. "Do you need something?" The [Hair color] haired male asked as he looked at the volleyball player up and down.

[Name] knew who this was. This was the infamous ace of the males volleyball club of Aoba Johsai. The pride and joy of the school, the volleyball club was. Iwaizumi Hajime may not be popular like Oikawa Tōru (who he share homeroom with) like the rest of the other members of the club, but the dark haired ace still garnered recognition from others. He was, after all, the ace of the sport.

Now this brings the question on why the ace of the volleyball club was in his club's doorstep. Normally, no one comes into the light music club except members (who already went home as everyone Mondays are no club time for them) or close friends of the said members to watch them goof off and perform. And [Name] was pretty sure that Hajime wasn't a close friend of his members as he prided himself to actually known his fellow members in the light music club. After all, what kind a president would he be if wasn't close with his members and his members friends?

So, if it isn't any if those two, this leads to only one conclusion.

Snapping his fingers in a "hurrah" moment. The [Hair color] haired male did not paid mind on Hajime flinching a bit on the snap of his fingers as he sent the dark haired ace an apologetic grin.

"If you're here because of how loud I'm playing again, I promise I'll keep it down!" [Name] had awkwardly said as he grinned. This wasn't the first time people actually visited the club to complain how loud they were playing, or more specifically, how he was playing. [Name] was a passionate guy and it his passion also shows in his playing. And so, he sometimes gets too into his music.

"So, uhhh, don't worry!" The [Hair color] haired male chuckled but his relief was immediately washed away and was replaced with confusion when he saw the dark haired male shakes his head and avoided eye contact with him. Did he do something wrong?

"No, that's not it," Hajime had said as he awkwardly coughed and avoided looking at [Name] in his [Eye color] eyes. Why was he feeling embarrassed again? He wasn't the one getting caught singing their heart out for goodness sake! Yet, Hajime felt a bit shy which was uncharacteristic of him.

This was his soulmate though. Iwaizumi Hajime may be jumping on the gun here and was probably wrong but the inner hopeless romantic he denied that he had was desperately screaming at him that this was no coincidence.

The light music club president was singing the fucking song his soulmate was listening to and Hajime could still hear the song playing even just a tiny bit and the dark haired male could practically hear [Name]'s music on the headphones hanging lazily on his neck. And it was the same fucking song.

Clearing his throat. Hajime reminded himself to focus. He could tell [Name] about them both being soulmates after he delivered the box that he was asked to give.

"Tōrasu-sensei asked me to deliver this," Hajime had said as he finally looked at the other male and saw the [Hair color] haired male just noticed the box he was carrying. Hajime had to bite back the nerves coming back when he made brief eye contact with [Name].

Fuck, he had been waiting for this moment his whole life, so why did he feel so nervous?!?

Hajime didn't expect his soulmate to be so closer to him and be a male. Yes, the dark haired male knew the possibility of having the same sex soulmate as it wasn't a new thing really. In fact, having same sex partners are more common than what other people would think. Still, Hajime never expected this and he was having mix feelings about it.

"Oh," Hajime was dragged out of his thoughts again by [Name] with the male sporting a dumbfounded look for a second as his lips was in a "o" form. The [Hair color] haired male seemed to realized what he was here for and had flashed him a large smile. The dark haired male just noticed that [Name] actually had a few piercing in his ears and that he had really nice [Eye color] eyes that shined with energy.

"Thanks for delivering!" [Name] thanked as he carefully took the box from the dark haired male when Hajime was too busy looking at him. The [Hair color] haired male was a bit amused when he noticed Hajime blinked a couple of times when he took the box away from him. Looks like the volleyball player was lost in his thoughts.

"I had been waiting for this baby for awhile now," [Name] said as he patted the top of the box and sent Hajime a grateful smile. "So, thanks, really."

"No problem," Hajime shrugged as he nodded his head at the [Hair color] haired male. It seemed like the dark haired male was back and acting normal again. Not that [Name] would know really as he wasn't closed with the volleyball player.

"Not to be a bother but, what's inside the box?" Hajime had asked as he rubbed his hands, eying the box he just delivered. Hajime had his guesses earlier ago but he couldn't tell which of his guesses were correct really. The dark haired male noticed the male in front of him seemed to light up and beamed at him.

"Oh! It's supposed to be a surprise," [Name] had said. This caused Hajime to be more curious on what's inside the box, and [Name] seemed to actually be eager to tell as he sent Hajime a grin. "It's some stuff we'll be using in the school's festival next week!"

"Ah, is it some new instrument or something?" The volleyball player asked as he saw the light music club president chuckle while shaking his head. Hajime had to force himself to calm himself down when he saw the [Hair color] haired male sent him a wink with a cheeky grin on his lips.

"Now, I can't tell you about that!" [Name] had said with a laugh as he went to the nearest table and placed the box down. He then turned and gave Hajime another grateful smile. "It would ruin the surprise if I do."

"I see," Hajime muttered as he can't stop the small smile creeping onto his lips. "Then I'm sure it'll be a great surprise then!" Hajime said. The dark haired male didn't noticed how the [Hair color] haired male seemed to be a bit surprised with his words but he immediately grinned happily by Hajime's words.

"Oh, you bet!" [Name] said as he went back to stand in front of Hajime, holding his hand on to shake the dark haired male's hand. "Name's [Name] by the way! [Last name] [Name]!" He introduced.

"Iwaizumi Hajime," Hajime introduced himself aswell as he took the [Skin color] hand that [Name] outstretched for him to shake. A small smile on his lips as he shook hands with the light music club president.

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< prev | next >

[daydreamed-snippets]

TW: Sorry, I’m in a mood. Talk of Suicide. Abuse of prescription medication. Underage drinking. Hints at abuse

It was quiet here in the bones of the old house. Cold. Drafty. Wildlife feasted on the general decomposition of trim. Faded tile and decaying drywall dangling at odd angles. Bricks lay uprooted by greenery. Furniture slowly losing its form was arranged haphazardly throughout the house. Winn could see her breath hang in the air, curl in a tight spiral before dispersing into the night. A single electric lantern kept watch beside a nest of her own making: a bedding of dried leaves, her favorite crochet blanket, and a little radio faintly playing an upbeat tune.

Oh, and a bottle of whiskey and every fucking antidepressant and mood stabilizer those bastards had ever prescribed for her. 

Playing eenie meenie miney mo, she uncapped a half-empty bottle of citalopram and popped all of it into her mouth. She took a swig, throwing her head back to ensure she swallowed. Looking around she supposed it was a fitting epitaph. Her end would be here, in this broken mausoleum, a showcase to humankind’s fundamental need to create something sublime but ultimately fail in its maintenance. To conceive something beautiful but become indifferent and bored with it, letting it fall into ruin. Wreckage that is only redeemable by nature itself. It would be nice, she thought, if something productive, beautiful even, grew out of her decaying life too. 

Then maybe everything would have been worth it.

Absently plucking at weeds poking through fractured flooring, she huddled over on herself waiting for the drugs to take effect. Her stomach turned as she tried not to think. Tried not to repeat the same question over and over in her head.

How many times did she have to lose everything to take the hint? How many times did she have to hit rock bottom before her knees buckled and her legs snapped trying to stick the landing as she broke herself to please everyone?

For her, the answer was four. Not that that matters now. Cause now it was too late. Now she finally gets it. Now she gets why her Mami was so unhappy. Why Miami's boyfriend, Leonard, wasn’t happy. Why her doctors weren’t happy. Her teachers, her friends. Everyone. Why the world was unhappy. Maybe her death would make them happy again.

A breeze picked up, whistling through the gaps. It sounded like someone was whistling and walking around the house, wooden planks creaking. That should have terrified her but her mind was starting to feel a pleasant, sleepy haziness. She took another half-empty bottle by her feet and downed the contents, choking on her own saliva and the aftertaste of the alcohol. 

Thoughts continued to rush in, unabated, like a broken dam. Each empty bottle held its own story, mostly of the times Leonard lugged her to another shrink, to “fix” her while her mother sat in the car, finding solace in a glass bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. Finishing it before Winn’s hour-long appointments were over. 

None of it ever seemed to satisfy Leonard. Not that he ever waited for her to finish her prescription before shoving the next pill down her throat, deeming the previous one ineffective when she would have another episode. Promising that the next drug would be it. That the next one would work. And she believed him. Each and every time, she believed. Whatever was wrong with her, these next pills would fix it.

But they never did. 

Soon it turned into, why can’t you be like x? Why can’t you just do x? Your attitude is why x is happening to you. Do you even want to get better from x?

She could put anything in for x. The equation stayed the same, with one common denominator: 

Her. 

Winn. 

She was the shared numerator whose value was always zero. And anything that is multiplied by zero forever equals zero.

Another half-filled bottle, another swig. Her heart started slowing down. So did her breathing, face becoming flush. She was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. 

Another floorboard whined under stress, and a voice followed it. “That is an especially painful way to die, dear one,” someone called out to her. “Overdoses can be messy affairs when attempted through the unpredictability of drugs.”

A surge of fright course through her. Who was that? A ghost? Leonard? She didn’t know. They remained out of sight. She looked up through the smog of her mind, unaware that anyone had breached the house grounds. She curled more into her nest. 

It couldn’t be Leonard. At least she didn’t think it was him. It was hard to tell right now. It didn’t sound like him. Her chest wouldn’t stop stinging, though, at war with medical sedation and her adrenaline. Trying to play it cool, she schooled her tone, wishing she had a taser on her. Cursing how stupid she was to come here without one. “You lost?” she called, scrubbing her face with the bottom of her palm, her coordination clumsy. “The main road‘s that way.” She pointed, not exactly knowing if that was the right direction anymore. “House gone to be destroyed in the morning. The bots won’t check to see if anyone’s in here before they start smashing.”

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” he asked, coming into view. It sounded more like a statement. “Because you don’t think anyone will find you before they start demolition.”

She squinted at the man in an impeccable blue suit, refusing to answer. Definitely not Leonard. But…

“Mmm, I know you,” she said scrunching her eyes, fighting to place the face, fighting to find a name. Yes, she has seen him somewhere, but her mind could only remember one location in which she encountered him. A place shrouded in metaphoric perception and youthful symbolism. A place that is both romanticized and villainized oftentimes in the same breath. A place she could only visit when she closed her eyes at night and slipped from this reality to another. 

“The man of my dreams. How—?” She swallowed, thoughts tripping over themselves. Her speech started to slur. He squatted in front of her, full weight on the balls of his expensive shoes, keeping his immaculate attire away from the dirt of the house. He moved gracefully, and though his smile looked concerned it was still every bit disarming.

“Uhh, I mean man from my dreams,” she stammered. “Uh, how is this?” It dawned on her. The part of her mind that was still intact. “Hallucinations. I’m dreaming. I-I’ve passed out.”

“You have not,” he said, making no move towards her. Simply staring her down with hooded eyes. “At least, not yet. And though I am, how did you put it, ‘the man of your dreams’, I’m not some figment of your imagination, Winnifred. I am quite real, and I’m here.”

Winn barked a laugh, “Oh my gods, for real? ‘I’m here’?” she mocked. “Everything’s good, I’m here.” She grabbed the bottle, his eyes following, and took a sip. “Fo sure, like that would really matter now. You can get your damn hair swirl outta my face with that.” 

She made a move for his hair, uncoordinated and choppy, catching herself when she leaned forward too much and fell onto her hands. It took a while. He remained still for her, attentive, but unmoved. She was able to ruffle his dark blond hair out of its slicked-back position, wrapping a finger around the bit of lock that fell over his brow without falling again. 

Their eyes met.

Realizing what she was doing she yanked her hand back as if burned. Confusion swept through her. He raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Convinced?”

“I can touch people in my dreams, it’s just...” It’s never felt so real. 

She reached for another prescription. Clearly, she was delusional. Clearly, this was a trick. She poured out the oval-shaped pill preparing to swallow it whole. It was quite possible that she was out cold, body slumped over like the furniture of this house. Quite possible she was unconscious and this was her mind’s last chance at providing her with a final comfort. A childhood sentential to keep watch as she fades away.

She tilted her head back, arm poised to sling the pills into her mouth. 

The man moves. 

He shifts to catch her wrist in a light but firm hold. The bottle slips out of her fingers, clatters to the floor, along with the pills, dropping between boards and out of reach. Winn curses. 

“Don’t touch me,” she said pulling away easily. “You don’t know me like that.”

“Listen to me, Winnifred,” his voice held a command. “I have not moved heaven and earth—I have not rescheduled my life just to watch your throw away yours. I do know you. I’ve known you since you were four years old. I’ve visited your dreams since your first nightmare. I’ve watched over you the best I could from afar.

“When I said, I’m here now, it wasn’t meant to be crass or derisive. So many people have let you down in your life, I being the chief among them. But I am here now. Things will get better. Let me prove it.”

“That wasn’t real. And dreams isn’t knowing someone.”

He tilted his head. “I know that your father left you when you were six. I know that your mother has been bounding from boyfriend to boyfriend, looking for validation but never really finding it. Each suitor worse than the last. The current beau is a monster called Leonard.”

She gulped, running a hand over her face. Tucking a curl behind her ear. He watched, gaze overly familiar. Possessive without even touching her. Eyes extracting what he wanted. She imagined he didn't take no for an answer. She imagined he changed outcomes to fit his ambitions. 

She felt unable to hide. 

“I know what he’s been doing to you,” he said, voice changing.

“H-how?”

He let out a breath of air. “I know this because I’ve seen your dreams. I know you’ve been having a recurring one of Leonard assaulting you, and then ending your life. It may happen in different facets and different places, but the theme is resoundingly the same. You also have recurring dreams of your mother’s lifeless body lying on the side of the road while traffic rushes by. Sometimes hitting her, most of the time not.” He adjusted his cufflinks, before completely abandoning his position to sit on the grassy floor. “You’ve been having these particular dreams for a while. It is because you venture into Leonard’s dreams each night, before going to your mother’s. It’s not unusual for someone with your abilities since they are the closest people to you. You’re able to see what Leonard will do to you, whether he’s willing to admit to his own perverse desires or not. And you’re able to view your mother’s darkest fears. Of being abandoned by everyone.”

“You’ve always had a talent for dream wandering and precognitive dreams. You were once able to control your dreams, steer away from the nightmares with my help.” 

“I can’t anymore. It’s too—” her voice cracked, and she was reminded of his face. His words. How Leonard taught her to hold her breath, to clamp down on her tongue. He taught her to hide truths, and keep secrets. To bear the scars without screaming, and conceal them. He showed her to shut up while her dignity—her pride—would rage beneath the surface while he was near.

“Those dreams are just dreams. That’s what Leonard said.” She needed to adhere to that. If anything could appease Leonard it was that. And she needed to appease him. Her mother was too weak, too afraid for her own life to safeguard Winn’s, and yet too desperate for a man to head out on her own. Besides if they ran, Leonard would eventually find them. He always found them.

“Trust me, like you once did,” his voice was soft, yet it cut through her racing thoughts like a well-crafted blade. He held his hand out to her, the gesture speaking of promise and nostalgia. Reminding her of how of a strong presence he was in her dreams. The one bit of sanity in an array of insane characters and worlds. He slew monsters, clothed her when she was naked, stopped her before she'd slip into a free fall. Laughed with her. Held her when she cried. He was kind to her. Above all, he showed her tenderness when no one else did.

“Remember me,” he went on, “as I was. I can be that for you again, in this waking land. You can still choose to come with me and leave all of this sorrow behind. Or,” he withdrew his hand when she turned her head, refusing to take it. “You can choose not to, and I will sit with you until you lose consciousness. Then I will carry you to the nearest medical facility where they will pump your stomach, and a physiologist will evaluate you. One not worth the paper their license was printed on. They will, in all likelihood, lock you away in a psychiatric ward, to be forever treated as a pariah. It’s your choice.” 

Her eyes jerked back towards him. He said it like a threat. Winn supposed she was running out of time. She wanted to trust him, but… she hadn’t seen him in her dreams for two years. He said that he’s there for her, but he hadn’t been. And she’d learned that being alone felt safer. 

She pulled back, making a move to stand. Maybe he’ll let her go. Maybe he wasn’t even here. His fingers didn’t act like a vice when he grabbed her earlier. She easily slipped him then. Maybe she can do it again. Maybe—

Her legs buckled under her, nerve endings on fire. She vomited, hopefully not on him. Gods, not on him. Her vision blurred, darkness edging the rim. She felt hands on her but wasn’t for sure. She was dazed. She needed to resist. Or maybe she needed to give in. She couldn’t open her eyes though was mildly aware of the feeling of being lifted, of a certain weightlessness. 

Winn was heaved against a strong chest. Instinctively, her hands went up, fingers curling and uncurling around dream man’s lapel in a display of rebellion or surrender, she wasn’t sure. She wanted defiance but it was so easy to just give in. Darkness claimed her.

Like it mattered because he wasn’t really there. Right? 

[anyrchyangel]

MDZS fanfic sensitivity beta

Hi~ I’m Ana

I’m,,,very bad at Tumblr >.< but I am writing a fic in the mdzs fandom and would really love a sensitivity beta to look over some of my canon references and use of Chinese terms. I’m very new to the wuxia/Xianxia genre and I don’t want to accidentally say or use a term that offends or misrepresents the genre.

Beta-ing is hard work and I’d never expect anyone to sign up to beta without having first peeked at what they’d be working on, so I’ve placed the first chapter of my fic down below.

Some disclaimers/primers: this fic is a crossover between Kimi no na wa/Your Name and mdzs--you don't have to have seen Your Name to follow along, but it wouldn’t hurt to know the plot I am ripping off >.< It includes body swapping and a major character death (if we count wwx dying and coming back to life as mo xuanyu as actually dying...) and for some reason, I have made everyone witches...yeah. Sorry >.< WangXian is the main (and kind of only) ship! Rated T solely because I am incapable of not cussing. I don't plan on writing any smut or explicit scenes for this series <,< (...for now.)

Anyways, here's chapter one of the series. Please let me know if you’d be interested in beta-ing for me! I really want to polish this fic before posting it on ao3 or anything >.<

he who swallowed a falling star

chapter one [everything must have a beginning]

Mornings have never once been Wei Wuxian’s friend. He hates mornings—he hates the sharp light of dawn and the cacophony of noise that comes with the world waking. He much prefers the night, the quiet and stillness, the ambience and mystery. There’s no mystery in the mornings—there’s only groggy musings as one cracks open their eyes to the stinging light of day and wipes away crust from their lashes. His body always violently protests to waking—sleep is so precious! It’s calming and good and nice and to be forced awake is among the greatest tragedies of mankind.

Except…except this morning he doesn’t feel like groaning and burying his head into his pillow. This time, his body actually feels sort of…good? That can’t be right. No one feels good in the mornings; the only ones who do are sociopaths and masochists.

And yet as he stretches awake with a yawn, his limbs feel light and his mind feels rested. So much so that his surroundings are immediately clear.

He has absolutely no idea where in the world he is.

He’s in a bed, at least that much is clear—a very soft bed with sheets that smell like sandalwood and covers with textured silk. Exquisite fabric, he’d never so much as been allowed to touch something so expensive before—he has a knack for putting stains where formerly there were none, so all of his own clothes and sheets are of durable fabrics. Stains add character! There’s a story behind every stain…not always an exhilarating story but a tale, nonetheless.

The room in which the bed he is resting on is absurdly clean. So clean as to seem clinical, or maybe decorative, as if he’d stumbled into a dollhouse meant for display purposes only. It’s lovely, a pretty screen separating the bed from the sitting area, decorated with an elegant painting of mountains bathed in mist. The furniture is expensive and luxurious and just looking at how nicely it’s all been cared for makes Wei Wuxian break out into hives. What even is the point of owning furniture if you’re not going to use it?

He taps his chin and tries to remember the night before. Just how much liquor had he drunk to find himself warming someone else’s bed? Had he even been drinking last night? Shit…maybe he should take shijie’s advice and cut back a bit. His eyes wander to the finger tapping away and he pauses because…well that really doesn’t look like his finger. Or his hand. Or his arm.

He scrambles to the nearest reflective surface—a basin of water in a porcelain bowl that’s probably more expensive than everything he owns combined. The face that looks back at him is…breathtakingly beautiful. Skin the color of white jade, softer than the inner petals of a peony, silky midnight hair draped down broad shoulders to rest at the small of his back, and bright golden eyes somewhere between the shade of the sun as it reflects on ice and wheat dancing in a breeze upon a gilded field.

It’s so beautiful that it narrows down the theories currently running through his head down to two: A) he has died and (mistakenly) ascended to heaven to live the rest of eternity as the most beautiful angel to have ever existed, or B) he’s dreaming. B) seems more likely, especially since the likelihood of Wei Wuxian going to heaven is probably somewhere in the negatives. Plus, witches don’t go to heaven…or technically even believe in heaven. Not to say that there isn’t an afterlife but—he’s rambling. His mind is whirring with so many thoughts that even he can’t keep up with them all.

“Huh.” Oh this man’s voice is so deep and rich that Wei Wuxian’s spine tingles at the sound. “Shit, even his voice is beautiful.”

He hums a few nonsensical notes just to listen to the different octaves; a deep voice, but a melodic one. He wonders if this person is a singer—he certainly has a lovely voice for singing. His eyes wander around the room, searching for…well he’s not really sure. His own body, perhaps? Proof that this is a dream? Or maybe signs of spellwork gone incredibly wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time one of his experimental enchantments went awry.

He starts rummaging through drawers and opening doors, hoping to learn more about the person whose body he now possesses. The handsome stranger is astoundingly boring. Not a speck of dust anywhere or a book out of place—even the poetry on this person’s shelf is…bland, at best. He tosses open the closet, hoping for literal or figurative skeletons. Someone this perfect can’t possibly exist in real life. Maybe instead of a dream this is a hallucination—Wei Wuxian has trouble believing that his active mind would conjure someone so dull but, well even he has off days. Or nights, he supposes. Is it night where he’s dreaming? Doubtful, given his sleep schedule but—he’s rambling again.

Within the closet hangs a full-length mirror, and he pauses in his rummaging to admire the body of the most boring person he’s…well they haven’t technically met, have they?

He’s even more beautiful in the crystal-clear reflection, tall and toned with arms that should be illegal. Wei Wuxian grins and quickly strips off his outer robes (so white that they remind him of mourning robes. He gets distracted when he imagines the scene he must have made whilst asleep—so ethereal and white and pure); the image that greets him is ridiculous. Abs that could cut steel on skin the color of flawless white porcelain, not a blemish in sight. His fingers dance across the muscle, laughter bubbling out of him. Oh what a sound—this gege really is perfection given flesh, isn’t he?

He smiles at his reflection and conjures as many funny faces as he can come up with. Well if he’s stuck in an angel’s body, he might as well have some fun, shouldn’t he?

.

.

.

Wei Wuxian bounds across the halls, chased by the knowledge that he is most definitely late for breakfast. Dawn has already segued into late morning, and if he wants any sort of meal before lessons, he will have to sprout wings and fly across the residence—an idea he’d actually toyed with before, but enchantments that alter the flesh are too finicky and he quite likes keeping all his fingers and toes.

He mentally prepares himself to face the routine “How could you have slept in so late!?” from Jiang Cheng and the “A-Xian, are you not sleeping well?” from Yanli and the knowing smile from Jiang Fengmian, matched only by the scathing glare from Madam Yu that has accompanied every breakfast he can remember having at Lotus Pier. To which he will smirk and tease Jiang Cheng, complain and pout to Yanli, return Jiang Fengmian’s smile and cautiously avoid Madam Yu’s gaze.

Wei Wuxian loves his morning routine, even if it doesn’t technically count as having happened in the morning.

“How do you always manage to sleep in so late!?”

Ah, Jiang Cheng is so predictable—Wei Wuxian loves that about him.

“I was having the best dream!” He responds as he flops onto his mat at the table, shoveling food into mouth as fast as he can pour extra chili sauce onto everything.

“Oh? What about?” Jiang Fengmian’s smile is no less endearing for being as predictable as Jiang Cheng’s anger—perhaps even more so because of it.

“Hmmm,” he pauses in stuffing his face to try and remember his dreams, but the haze of sleep has yet to lift, “huh—I can’t actually remember?”

“How do you know it was a good dream if you can’t even remember it?” Jiang Cheng’s sneering makes him smile, bits of rice on display for his favorite (and only) brother.

“I don’t have to remember every detail to know that it was a good dream!”

It’s true—although he can’t remember anything of what he’d dreamt, the feeling of joy lingers, even as the fog of sleep lifts under the light of day.

“Here, A-Xian, have some lotus seeds. I saved some for you.”

He gulps down some tea to clear the sticky rice from his teeth and perches at Yanli’s elbow with his lips parted, her eyes crinkling into adorable crescents as she pops a lotus seed into his mouth.

“A-Li.” Even on the best of days, Madam Yu’s tone could strip paint from the walls, varnish from the wood within the halls; it was like listening to the crack of a whip, or the rumbling of thunder. Yanli wilts under her strict gaze, eyes dropping to the hands she folds in her lap.

“I am glad to see you back to yourself, A-Ying.” (I’m not sure this is a good way for jfm to address wwx—in the original text he never actually says wwx’s name, but he does call jc A-Cheng; I want to show here that jfm favors wwx) Jiang Fengmian’s tone is the opposite of Madam Yu’s; soft where hers is harsh, calm where hers is agitated. The difference between them is jarring—like the crack of lightning meeting the quiet currents of a flowing river.

“Yes, how very fortunate we are to see you returning to your ways.” Another crack of lightning, this one closer to the babbling brook that is Uncle Jiang, the waters left disrupted and discordant.

“Wait, what?” Wei Wuxian has never feared the thunder, nor the storm.

“You went psycho yesterday and woke at dawn. You even cooked breakfast, but it was bland as shit. It was honestly the most disgusting thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Where Yanli wilts under Madam Yu’s glares, Jiang Cheng grows more uncertain, and uncertainty breeds anger within him. Except this anger is often a guise, smoke to the fire that is his worry. Wei Wuxian smiles at him, basking in the concern the same way a flower dances in the breeze.

“Aw, don’t sound too concerned Jiang Cheng.”

The way he snorts and rolls his eyes makes it easier for Wei Wuxian to gloss over the fact that he can’t really remember the day before. An odd gap in his memory, but he shrugs it off and sneaks more lotus seeds from Yanli, who hides a smile behind her hand as she passes him the morning paper.

“Did you see? The comet will be visible on the day of the banquet. Maybe we’ll see a falling star or two.”

“Hmm? Would shijie like falling stars? Maybe I’ll catch one and bottle it up, just for you.”

Her laughter is honey, her smile sunshine; perhaps he should bottle that instead, for use on rainy days or cold winters when the lotuses close their petals.

“A-Cheng, you have lessons to attend to. You do not have the luxury of falling behind.”

“Yes, mother.” The only time Jiang Cheng ever sounds subdued is in deference to Madam Yu, and the sound grates against Wei Wuxian’s ears.

“A-Xian, you should head off to lessons too. You don’t want to be late.” Yanli sneaks the last of the lotus seeds into his hand; he’s convinced she’s on a mission to fatten him up, to which he has zero complaints. If he could gorge on shijie’s lotus seeds for eternity, he would.

“Oh? From what I hear, Wei Wuxian’s time is better spent hunting pheasants and flying kites with the younger witchlings.”

What a nasty storm to deal with so early in the day. He doesn’t fear thunder, but nor does he seek rain.

“The kites were actually an enchantment I was testing out. I finally fixed the talisman to facilitate one’s qinggong[1] to the point of weightlessness. Those kites were—”

“You did what!?”

“There’s no need to shout, Jiang Cheng. The actual enchantment is pretty simple if you cast on the right night. I have a theory that the casting is a lot easier during a full moon, but I managed just fine when it was waning—”

“You—Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng’s cheeks puff with indignation, his face as red as the chili sauce Wei Wuxian slathers on every meal.

“Yes, I’m here!” He answers with laughter, snickering and dodging as Jiang Cheng lunges for him, waving at Yanli as he darts out the room. He’d skip class if he didn’t want to write down another idea for an enchantment in his grimoire, of which he’s about forty percent sure is in his desk…or buried under his other inventions somewhere in his room. Or maybe he left it in the atrium when he was searching for a specific constellation?

Jiang Cheng chases him from the residence, out through the courtyards and down into the docks of Lotus Pier. He smiles and waves at the merchants, eyeing all the pastries and water chestnuts, winking at runny-nosed children from the nearby households. His heart feels both heavy and light—too full to dream of moving and yet so buoyant he might drift along with the next passing breeze.

The giant lake gleams under the light, lotuses dancing and swaying in the wind, the sound of home bustling around him. Wild magic whispers through the air, flows through the undercurrents of the lake, along the waterways for miles and miles until it reaches the ocean. An idea pops into his head to attempt to track the energy, map out the ley lines, but he catches the shadow of a pheasant nearby and pushes the thought down his list of priorities.

He smiles and dodges Jiang Cheng’s attempts to toss him into the lake, grappling each other into headlocks as they make their way towards the lecture halls. He sighs at the idea of another long, boring monologue in spellcraft theory, but the idea of enchanting a few papermen to dance behind the Adeptus keep his steps light. The witchlings always love a good show—perhaps he’ll put on his own little play for them. With the right paper, he might be able to craft a jade rabbit and play the story of Chang’e and Hou Yi. Maybe he could make them sing? A whistle from a witch is a powerful thing. Or he could tell the story of Ragnarok, the Twilight of the Gods—his head buzzes with ideas, excitement filling his veins at the prospect of researching more of the lost stories of old gods and immortals.

Endnotes:

[1] Qinggong (in most cultivation/wuxia novels) is the art of manipulating qi to walk on water or move across surfaces; it’s also a real technique in Chinese martial arts. Read about it here

If you got this far, thanks for reading! Even if you're not interested in beta-ing, I’d still love to hear feedback! I don’t normally post such long pieces on Tumblr, but I wasn't sure what else to do >.< I hope you liked it!

[crimsxnflxwerz]

Don’t Want it Troubling Your Mind [bfu fic] -chapter 5

Don’t Want it Troubling Your Mind Fandom: buzzfeed unsolved Pairing: Shane Madej/Ryan Bergara; Shane Madej & Ryan Bergara Summary: Shane Madej really liked Ryan Bergara. He was funny, a joy to mess with, and took his brand of teasing pretty well. He would consider him a friend, kind of. But when the team goes to investigate the Franklin Castle for ghosts, Shane gets more than he bargained for, and the results could cost him his friendship with Ryan. Rating: teen Warnings: Demonic Possession, Existential Crisis, Complicated Relationships Authors note: This is a repost from Archive for people who don’t like Archive/prefer tumblr/etc. sup guys.  Triggers for this chapter: skipping meals, implied assault, choking/violence

Ryan drove first. It was his car after all, so it made sense. Before they had started the trip, the two of them had collected several bags full of snacks and treats so that they might eat that instead of taking stops. Currently, the boys were in a fight over which snack food was better: veggie straws or chex mix. There were arguments for both sides, of course. ‘Well veggie straws are better for you.’ ‘Do you actually believe that Ryan?’ ‘Well, they’re called veggie straws not cholesterol straws, Shane!’ Ultimately, they agreed to disagree. Shane thought that a playful argument about snacks was the perfect beginning to a long day with his best friend.

They passed open fields, their green just barely kissed by frost, warming in the rising morning sun. They passed clusters of pines, looming far above their heads, holding their secrets deep within. They passed deer, and birds, and cats. They passed through sleepy towns, their browns and reds melding together into a new thing, a new entity. Each person connected to each other like paper chains. It was about three hours into the trip before they took their first pit stop. Shane checked his watch: 7:12 am. He felt like it should have been later in the day. Stepping out of Ryan’s car, he stretched, yawning. Ryan snuck up on him and grabbed him at the ribs mid-stretch.

“Haa-!” Shane breathed out sharply at the sudden intrusion. Ryan laughed and turned to walk into the rest stop. Shane chased after him. “Get back here, jerk!”

After a bathroom break, they wandered into the attached cafeteria. It wasn’t too busy, which was good, because Shane didn’t feel like dealing with lots of people at the moment. Steve and David said they were going to get something at the McDonalds. Ryan was eyeing the Starbucks, so Shane just tagged along with him. They stood away from the counter, studying the menu, wondering what they wanted to order.

“How do you think their oatmeal is?” Ryan asked, his arms crossed over his chest in thought. Shane looked over at him. Shane smiled at Ryan’s adorably frazzled hair and clothes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a while. Shane wondered if Ryan would sleep during his turn driving.

“Not as good at their coffee,” Shane said. “But look, they have booberries in it.”

“Th—they have what now?” Ryan asked, side-eyeing his friend.

“Booberries. God, Ryan, don’t you know what a booberry is?” Shane dramatically rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the amused smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh, my god,” Ryan laughed and elbowed Shane’s side. “You’re such a nerd!”

“And you aren’t?” he asked.

“I’m not the one making spooky fruit puns, so no.” Ryan said.

Shane was silent for a moment, before he nodded in agreement. “Damn, you’re right.”

The two ordered their food and coffee and waited around for it at a side counter. It was so early, and so quiet. Kind of eerie, in fact. Shane looked through some of the apps on his phone, but quickly grew bored.

“What do you think we’ll find in Villisca?” he asked, turning to look at his friend. Ryan looked up from his phone, staring off across the cafeteria in thought.

“Honestly? Another spooky house with a haunted past.” He said simply. “I feel like places where people were murdered are particularly touchy. There was no justice. They must be hurting.”

“Wow,” Shane started jokingly, “You don’t need to go all Lovely Bones on me, Ry.”

Ryan lightly punched him in the arm with a laugh. “I’m serious! I know you don’t believe in ghosts, but what if they are real? Wouldn’t you be angry? If someone killed you and got away with it?”

Shane considered it for a moment. He listened to the grinding of coffee beans and distant idle chatter. Wouldn’t you be angry? He thought about the demon that constantly poured emotions into him. It was always angry. Wouldn’t you be angry?

Yes.

“I don’t think I’d be angry,” he said. “Mostly because I’d be dead.”

“Oh my god, Shane.” Ryan said, exasperated.

“Well, it’s the truth!” he said.

“Don’t you have an ounce of wonder in your body?” Ryan asked. “Or are you just scientific fact to the bone?”

Shane scratched his chin. “I believe in Bigfoot.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Bigfoot was made up by a dude who frequently pranked his town. Do you really believe in a prank?”

“If any supernatural being does end up being true, I put my money on Bigfoot.” Shane said. “Maybe it’s not intelligent, maybe it’s just a strain of mutated bears. Whatever it is, it seems more plausible than ghosts.”

“Okay, man, whatever you say,” Ryan said, grinning. “Just let me know when you catch Bigfoot on camera.”

“Now I feel like I have to catch Bigfoot on camera, just because you said something.”

After they were done at the rest stop, they hopped back in their cars, Shane in the driver’s seat this time. For the first hour on the road, Ryan and Shane laughed and joked, but eventually the conversation dwindled to a trickle, and then to a halt. Ryan closed his eyes after daydreaming out the window for a time.

As the day sped by, Shane wondered if he should be worried. He thought a lot about Anael in the stretches of silence that filled the car when one of them was sleeping in the passenger’s seat or stretched across the back row. As much as he would like to say that he wasn’t concerned about Anael, he would be wrong if he did. There’s something very, very real about Anael’s threats and ploys. Something physical about the black dog that had chased him through his apartment. There was something terrifying about its absence, like there was something looming over him, waiting to strike. Like a snake waiting patiently for a rodent to cross its path, or a lion crouched in the savannah grass, blending in seamlessly. If Shane didn’t think about it, would that be worse than freaking himself out? He considered that Anael was just being purposefully absent for long enough to make him paranoid. It reminded him of receiving the silent treatment from someone, left alone to eat your heart out in abandonment.

He didn’t crave Anael’s attention, he just feared what was coming from its absence.

Hours down the road, Shane would look out the window during Ryan’s turn to drive, his eyes getting lost in the heart of the dark forests lining the highway. The trees bent and swayed with the wind, curling in on themselves and blending together as the car rushed by. Inside, however, deep underneath the long pale tree bones was a pulsing interior. Thousands of eyes, watching, waiting, patiently for them. He wondered what it would be like if he were there. He wondered how he would feel deep inside the beast, alone. He shivered at the thought, before slipping into a light nap.

They arrived at their hotel at 11pm. They couldn’t film today, so staying at the residence in question would be pointless, since they wouldn’t have any build-up to sleeping overnight. Besides, everyone was too tired to set up cameras or think about ghosts after the long drive. They were all stiff from sitting too long, and would rather lounge around and chill before the shoot tomorrow.

Shane, Ryan, Steve, and David stepped out of their cars in the hotel parking lot. Steve and David offered to go and check in, leaving Shane and Ryan outside to decide on a place for dinner. Honestly, there wasn’t much around. A few local diners, bars, probably all closed now. As he was desperately searching for a signal in this middle-of-nowhere town, he felt Ryan tap him on the arm.

“I think I found a restaurant that’s open ‘till one,” he informed Shane. “We could just pile into one car this time.”

“What’s on the menu?” Shane asked. He could go for some traditional late-night dive food. He was already getting a creepy vibe from the small town. It reminded him of the town where the Keddie cabin murders took place, like they were intruding on something they shouldn’t. Some comfort food was all he really wanted.

“Just looks like burgers.” Ryan said, skimming a picture of their menu. He looked up then, staring across the street towards an abandoned gas station with a tractor parked near an aged-looking car wash. “Do you—do you feel like we’re being watched?”

“Watched?” Shane asked, following his gaze to find what he was looking at. There was nothing there, but it was so dark that he couldn’t really tell. There were just so many shadows. “I think you’re just tired from driving all that way. Did you know some people hallucinate when they’re tired?”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “This town is creepy, man.”

Shane couldn’t agree more. “Yeah, it is small and in the middle of nowhere.” He paused. “Anything could happen out here.”

“Including the murder of four traveling ghost hunters,” Ryan pointed out helpfully. “Add our own disappearance to the list of unsolved cases…”

“Ry, we’re not gonna get murdered here,” Shane said. There was a loud bang far to their left, like a metal trash bin getting knocked over. Ryan jumped at the noise. “Well, at least I hope we won’t.”

Ryan had instinctively reached out and grabbed Shane when the noise happened. Shane could feel the warmth of him against his chilled skin. It was pretty brisk outside, and feeling the warm touch made him want to wrap himself around Ryan and never let go.

For a moment, he felt hot with embarrassment over the thought. Sure, Ryan was warm, and it was cold, but why jump to such an idea? He was glad that they were getting along better now, but something inside him was starting to crave these accidental touches and intimate exchanges between just them. He thought about what Anael had said back in his car, all those days ago. ‘We’ll see who wants what in time.’ It had been a threat then, simple as that.

Shane had known Ryan for months, months. What would make him develop feelings now? What crawled into his chest and wrapped itself around his heart? Shane knew the deal, drastic moments reveal your true feelings, but something about the development was off. Before Anael, he could count the number of times he felt conflicting emotions about Ryan on one hand.

Then the door to the hotel opened and Ryan’s hand fell away from Shane’s arm, and Shane let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding in. Shane felt himself put a little more distance between him and his friend, not totally sure if he could trust himself so close to Ryan right now.

“So, what’s the haps?” David asked. “We’re checked in, now we’re hungry.”

“There’s a diner down the road that’s open until one.” Ryan said. He gestured to his car. “Want to pile in and go?”

The crew got into the car and let Ryan drive them down the road to the diner. When they arrived, they noticed that the building was pretty old and retro-looking. The parking lot wrapped around it, but there were only about three cars parked, all at the front. Shane guessed that they were the employee’s cars. Inside, only half the lights in the dining room were on, creating an eerie mood that could only be described as paused. It was silent but for the background buzzing of old lights, empty but for the shadows moving in the back only visible through a tray slot in the wall. It smelled of old leather and cigarette smoke. The booths were all red and white, the floor a checkered tile. The walls were decorated with 80s pinup posters and old relics on shelves meant for viewing only.

The group awkwardly stood in the entrance next to the hostess stand for a little bit. They dared not make a noise, for fear of unpausing the video and forcing everything back to life. Eventually, the spell was broken when a woman wearing a red polo, black pants, and a retro apron walked out from the back and up to them. She had long blonde hair that was pinned up, and she clicked a pen in her hand several times before speaking.

“Four?” she asked, and snapped the bubble gum she was chewing. Shane couldn’t help but think that she was the epitome of every stereotypical 80s waitress. If only she was wearing roller skates, it would really complete the look.

“Yes, thank you,” Ryan jumped in when no one was responding. He gave the group a disappointed once over. Shane almost laughed.

“Follow me,” the blonde turned and lead them to a table that was a corner booth. The corner was more window than wall, looking directly into an abandoned building on one side, and across the street into an expansive cornfield on the other side. Shane decided it was too freaky here to look outside, so he sat across from Ryan so that he could look at him instead.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” she said, and left them to their table.

The group looked at their menus. They were dated, with ratty corners and some were scribbled over with crayons. Shane thought it reminded him of an 80s version of Cracker Barrel.

“Does anyone else find this place shady as fuck?” Shane asked. Ryan rolled his eyes, but grinned nonetheless.

“Honestly, this place is so retro that it’s weird,” David admitted. Steve nodded in agreement. “This honestly feels like the abandoned set of an 80s schoolyard film.”

“Are there Jiffy Pops on the menu?” Shane asked avidly, watching Ryan as he said this, and letting his smile grow when he saw Ryan laugh in response.

“They wouldn’t have those, even in the 80s!” Ryan said, thumbing through the menu, but still grinning. “Jiffy Pops, what are you, my grandpa?”

“Milkshakes it is then,” he said, pointing at a tall-glass vanilla shake with a cherry on top in the drinks section. “And fries. I love a good milkshake and fries.”

“Why are you so gross?” Ryan asked. David and Steve chuckled while looking over their menus. Shane faked offense at the statement, shooting Ryan a look.

“Milkshakes and fries are a delicacy, Ryan.” Shane argued.

“Sure, they are,” Ryan joked. As Ryan looked back over his menu, Shane let his eyes linger a little longer. He could tell that despite the jokes and playful banter, Ryan was stressed. He could see it in the straight line of his back, a rigid difference from the slight curve of it when they laid together on Shane’s couch for a movie.

Shane wondered if it would be too weird to offer Ryan a backrub.

As they waited for the waitress to return to take their orders, David and Steve talked about something they’d seen while driving, or some drama that was happening in the office. Shane didn’t hear most of it, since he was only half listening. Under the table, Shane’s foot accidentally bumped Ryan’s. Silently, they exchanged glances. When their eyes met, Shane felt a deep, dark heat bloom in his stomach. Like an ember burning hot in the core of his body. The other’s voices were suddenly far away, like the only thing in the universe was Ryan.

The trance was broken by the waitress returning to the table. She cracked her chewing gum, and the tension snapped like a rubber band breaking in your hand. Coming away, Shane still felt the sting of it, a raised line across his chest.

The others ordered, but Shane was still reeling from the intrusiveness of his own thoughts. He wasn’t sure what this all meant. When the waitress got to him, he looked up at her with a look of discomfort on his face.

“I’ll just have a water,” he said. “Where’s your bathroom?”

She pointed down a nearby hallway and moved to go back behind the counter. Shane could feel his friend’s eyes on him. He hurried away down the hall. He tried the bathroom door, and at first it was stuck, so he yanked harder. It came loose with a loud creak. It was a one-person bathroom, which was good, because he didn’t want anyone walking in on him in this state.

As he locked the stall door, the lights flickered. He felt a presence there with him. All the heat in his body was drained out, leaving him shivering in the bathroom. It smelled in there. Smelled of stagnant water and watered down bleach. He grabbed the edges of the porcelain sink, leaning heavily on it as he stared at himself in the mirror. He looked pale, paler than usual. His eyes held a glint in them, reminiscent of the demon’s shining yellow eyes piercing deep into his soul.

He turned the faucet on, relishing in the soothing sound of water running, breaking up the silent tension that had built up around him like walls of ice. He studied the water rushing down the drain, wondered what it felt like to get washed away, like a leaf carried off down a sewer grate on the side of the road, or a child dragged underneath by a wave, held captive in a watery embrace.

They had just arrived, and yet he was already feeling a pang of homesickness reverberating within him. Maybe choosing to spend this time with Ryan wasn’t such a good call. Maybe this was just what Anael wanted. Maybe he was playing right into the demon’s hands.

No, it was just a few nights, then he would be back in his normal schedule. Just a few nights, then he could establish if he wanted to keep Ryan at arm’s length or not.

Back at the hotel, he forgot that they agreed on two double beds. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, he was a grown man after all, and could sacrifice his space to save money. They all got ready for bed, and almost as soon as everyone was tucked in, the lights were off. Shane waited for about five minutes, before he got up, threw a jacket and his shoes on, and left.

He wrapped his arms around himself as he made his way outside. Once he left the hotel, he went and sat on the edge of the sidewalk, looking out into the dark.

He shivered, the cool october night air rushing right through his pajamas and jacket. He wished he could be more mature about this, or just put all these crazy, nonsense feelings right out of his brain and just be done with it. He wasn’t even sure anymore if this was only Anael. He felt a tugging on his heartstrings whenever he thought about Ryan and the complicated relationship between them. He just wanted everything to be the way it was before, was that so much to ask?

After a moment of sitting in silence, he heard the hotel door open behind him. He turned and saw Ryan standing there in his hoodie and pajama bottoms. He looked surprised to see Shane there on the sidewalk.

“What the hell are you doing?” Ryan asked, crossing his arms. “Come inside, you’re going to get sick out here.”

Shane looked away, back towards the mess of woods across the street. He yearned to be swallowed whole by the darkness, gripped harshly by the cold and plunged into silence. Maybe then he could forget about his feelings, he could sleep without dreaming.

“I can’t sleep.” he lied. He was tired, but he knew that all that was waiting in sleep was Anael. He didn’t trust himself to sleep next to Ryan, either. What if Anael took control? What if something happened? “Just go back to bed, Ry.”

“When are you going to stop pretending to be okay?” Ryan asked, coming to sit beside Shane on the sidewalk. “I can tell there’s something wrong. You didn’t eat at all at the diner. You? Not eating? That’s crazy.”

Shane couldn’t help but let out a weak laugh. “Yeah, that place was weird, though. Maybe I didn’t want to get food poisoning.”

Ryan clutched his stomach dramatically. “Oh no, you were right! They poisoned us all!”

Shane shoved Ryan’s shoulder lightly and smiled. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his arms there. It was moments like these where things felt normal. But he could feel the heat crawling up his back. A tight ball of want settling in his chest, burning, the steam from it rising and clogging up his thoughts.

“Seriously, though,” Ryan started. He sounded more sincere, his voice softer. “I really care about you. If there’s anything I can do. Anything you want to tell me.”

Shane felt the confession bubbling up in his throat. He wanted to tell him so badly, about the demon, about what was happening, about his feelings, about everything. He wanted to badly for someone to know, to see him, to understand what he was going through. But the words were caught behind his lips. They refused to leave him. He tried to push past the barrier, but he just wasn’t strong enough.

“I know Ryan,” he said softly. “Let’s go upstairs.”

As they stood in the elevator, waiting to reach their floor, Shane noticed Ryan’s hand dangling at his side. He imagined what it would feel like in his own. He could reach out, right now, and grab it if he wanted. Take hold of Ryan’s hand and just tell him.

The elevator door dinged, and he let out a small breath of disappointment, watching Ryan step out first. They shed their jackets and climbed into bed. They laid facing away from each other.

Shane felt unconsciousness creeping up on him like a predator. He wasn’t sure what he was going to see tonight. He hoped that it was nothing. As the darkness overcame him, he begged that tonight would be dreamless.

Shane could hear Ryan’s muffled voice coming from behind the door. Each time he tries to grab the doorknob, it evaporates right before him, his hands passing right through it, tiny pieces of it scattering like gnats, only to reform as his hand leaves the space. He gives up on the doorknob and throws his shoulder again the door instead. It’s hard as stone, even though it appears to be made of wood. His shoulder aches at each attempt. Ryan screams on the other side of the door.

“Stop it! Leave him alone!” Shane shouts, banging on the door. He hears a crash on the other side, and a muttered curse. He tries the knob again and it’s solid now. He twists it, and the door swings open. He stumbles in upon Anael in his body clutching a gash above his eye. Ryan stands, partially undressed in the opposite corner with an digital alarm clock clutched in his hands.

“Get away from him.” Shane growls and tackles Anael, wrestling with him, fighting until he ends up pinning the demon by the neck. He squeezes Anael’s throat, and it’s a weird image, because he’s technically choking himself. He feels nauseous as he fights it, feels his own hands on his neck, but he can’t let go now, he can’t let Anael hurt Ryan.

He can’t let himself hurt Ryan.

“Get out of my body!” he screams. Anael seems to struggle for a little longer, before his eyes roll back into his head. Suddenly, he falls forward, his arms disappearing into the body beneath him. He hears Ryan shout his name, but it’s distant and muffled. Once he’s fully enveloped, all he can hear and feel and see is inky blackness. He falls deeper and deeper into the blank void of space, getting farther and farther away from Ryan’s voice. He doesn’t seem to breath, or move, or see much. There’s a ringing in his ears, and then, and then.

“Just let me in, my child.” a voice says. “And you can sleep. I promise.”

And so Shane slept.

[sebastianxainsworth]

Redemption // self para

Sebastian pushed open the door with a loud ominous creak, an action he’s managed to do dozens of times in the past for various occasions. This, however, was under different circumstances. The first time in three months he and Ryan left the city and longer since...

The last time Seb stepped foot in the penthouse office of the Ainsworth tower was the day he sent Theon tumbling through the window. The glass had long since been replaced by a brand new sheet, the blood cleaned extensively, and the desk itself vacated other than the current residence of Wayne. Thankfully, the man was gone for the night, leaving the rest of the tower for the youngest Ainsworth to explore old stomping grounds and simply wait.

Sebastian couldn’t understand what possessed him to make contact with Madyson and he wouldn’t expect her to come, not after their first and last meeting. Who would dare grant the wish of a deranged man who held a letter opener to her throat? Would she be forgiving or leave him without answer as he dealt with his demons alone out of spite within her anger? Sebastian didn’t feel right having the discussion over the phone or through text messages despite how easy it would be, not when it was this significant.

Seb moved across the threshold, his steps echoing through the silent din as he reached the large oak desk his brother and father sat at before him. Its twin matched the same one back at the mansion, but there was something incredibly royal and intimidating about this one. The deals that crossed its shiny surface, the conversations and secrets dwelling within the wood like an imprint. He never considered it in such a way, but the desk became witness to the company he desired to take the mantle of. His hand glided along the top, fingers barely glancing over the small antique knick-knacks lining the edge. It was difficult to imagine Theon sentimental about the little things, then again, he hardly knew his brother at all.

Madyson watched the man from the door frame for a long moment as she observed his quiet reaction to what should have been an ordinary office, but now she must have known was the sight of a former murder scene. The thought sent chills down her spine, the same factoring into her hesitation from coming here from the start, however, her previous words reminded Mady why she did this for a living. Was this Sebastian asking for help finding his way again? “Doctor Beckett?” The formal title shot through her thoughts like a hot knife and immediately caused the blonde’s posture to straighten as she stepped into the space. “You were having a moment. I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“You weren’t. Preferred if you did anyway.” Sebastian moved his hand from the desk to the wheeled leather chair, gently swiveling it back and forth, “I, um, I just,”

“You just wanted to talk?” Mady filled in the blanks with a slow nod, “As long as you promise to refrain threatening me with a knife, I clearly see you’re in desperate need of someone to talk to.” She made herself at home in one of the chairs in front of the desk and dropped her bag at her feet, pushing aside the weird sensation looking at the window behind him. “Consider me a listening sound board.”

She was being too nice. Too understanding. It made this all the more worse. “About that, I need to apologize. You came to the house with nothing but an open heart and willingness that night and I pulled you into something you shouldn’t have been in.” Something Seb was involving her in a second time around, the man realized, as he responded quietly, “I’m sorry, Madyson.”

“I was never angry at you for that, Sebastian. You were fresh off of doing, you know, what you did and Ryan was under medical treatment the last I remembered from that session.” If she could call it a session. Mady placed her hands in her lap and looked down, “You weren’t the first of my patients to threaten my safety.” She repeated, “I’m not angry.”

“You should be. I went full psycho.” Seb’s fingers squeezed the chair’s back, “After what happened with my brother, I was,” Crazy? Delusional? Or maybe in deep enough to know what power felt like when he took it in his own two hands? Sebastian possessed power before, that came with the last name and family reputation, but he just didn’t know how to use it. That learning experience died with his brother. “I was just on this high. I thought I could do what I wanted, where I wanted, to who I wanted without consequences.”

Madyson pressed her lips tightly together, gathering her thoughts cautiously and carefully. There is always more to the story. “Apologizing wasn’t the only thing this was about, was it?” She responded quietly.

“No.” Seb’s equally soft response came as he pulled the chair back and slid into it with a low squeak. “I enjoyed it. Killing Theon, I enjoyed it and I can’t pretend I’m able to separate who I am between who he and my father were. I tried denying it with myself, with Benji, and I can’t.” Saying Theon’s name triggered an apparition he could see from the corner of his eye, forcing Sebastian to glance behind Madyson and spot a vision of his brother lifting his dark gaze to the ceiling in an eyeroll. The moment lasted longer than it should have and more often than the man would confess to.

The woman turned her head to see exactly what he was staring at, finding nothing but an empty door. Like he saw something she couldn’t quite see with her own eyes. Oh, no, this was an all too familiar sign. While Mady hated making assumptions, his history gave her one significant conclusion. “Sebastian,” She turned to face him with a sympathetic expression, “Do you mind describing to me what you’re seeing? Who you’re seeing?”

“Theon.” Seb groaned, leaning forward and placing his head in the palms of his hands, “They’re just flashes. Sometimes, I’ll have full-on conversations with him like he was actually in the room and I know it makes me sound like I’m fucking crazy. I’m not. I killed the fucker and I expected him to stay dead.” He lifted his head slowly, “You said I lost my way before, Doctor Beckett, but I obviously lost my goddamn mind too. The world already took away everyone I ever cared about, so what’s my sanity?” The Ainsworth patriarch released a second groan, “I lost Ryan, Doctor. I lost what was left of my family by my own decision-making and my best friend can’t handle a single second standing in the same room with me. This city, three months later, still thinks I attacked Newford. And the worst part, Madyson, I deserve this. I deserve every second of it.”

Mady stuck by her original diagnosis. The nature versus nurture theory became invalid when Sebastian’s case proved environment and biology were key factors in his deteriorating mental stability. He was now having hallucinations no one else apart from her knew about, lacking sleep, and it’s obvious he let go of his hygiene judging from the growing beard. “I cannot condone what you’ve done in your past, Sebastian, and yes, perhaps karma has caught up to you, but I don’t think you attacked Mr. Vincent. There’s always going to be doubts and theories and no one can say for certain what really happened. I just need you to know you’re still worth saving.”

“You don’t give up, do you? Never met anyone so damn relentless.” Seb’s lips quirked in a weak smile that was quick to leave, “You’re going to really waste a lifetime’s worth of years better spent on helping other people more deserving than me.”

“Perhaps, but I know I can help you. It’s not about what you do and don’t deserve, Mr. Ainsworth.” Madyson leaned forward thoughtfully as she permitted the silence to grow. Was she absolutely bonkers coming here and chatting with him? Or did the true insanity lay with the decision she considered? “This is typically the part where I prescribe you medicine for the visions, but this goes far deeper than your mind, Sebastian. You think you have no one here that cares for you, well, I’m disagreeing. You have me. So,” She sighed. This was it. “If you consent, we need weekly sessions. No more of these...spontaneous talks in the dead of night. Real, one hundred percent sessions, dedicated in my office.”

Okay, now, this was not what he anticipated. Going in with the apology and coming out with an official therapist jarred Sebastian. Therapy was scoffed at in his family, if you were having strong emotions and needing a conversation to speak of them, you locked that shit away. “Wait, you would do that for me?” The relief splashing along Seb’s expression lit a spark of overwhelming hope long lost in St. Cascadia. That’s what the city did, took away any shred of wishful hoping until you no longer knew how it felt. “Yeah, I mean, I want to. I need to.” Ah, then came the awkward and extremely uncomfortable thought. “What about Detective Hardass? He hates the factions, he hates the leaders, but he’s really gunning for me nowadays. He won’t like you and me doing,” The male waved a hand between the two of them for indication. “This.”

“No, he won’t.” And that’s what she was always fretting about in the back of her mind even on her way to the tower. It hadn’t flown over well with Derek when she talked to Morrigan and she was sure he’d nearly blown a gasket after she told him about the first very violent talk with Sebastian. Madyson was a grown woman with a job she loved and she can’t do it properly if she wasn’t helping everyone. “You let me worry about Derek. Besides, I still have doctor-patient confidentiality. I can’t tell him who I’m treating unless given special permission.”

“Tell him.” Sebastian granted without hesitation, threading his fingers together. “I’m not going to be responsible for ruining a relationship based on keeping secrets.” He knew what concealing the truth could do to any relationship. Lying about the nightmares and hallucinations or even hiding how deeply satisfying watching a man tumble through a window from Ryan, from himself, pushed away his wife. What she thinks he did to her brother may have been the real cause, but letting the cat out of the bag on his dwindling mental state would mean losing her entirely. Forever.

This was a dangerous game potentially playing with her life. Sebastian wasn’t a apart of her faction, in fact, she knew the gossip whispered about her helping the same man everyone believed had attacked Newford could have been considered career-ending, but it was downright scandalous. Speaking with a faction leader wasn’t taboo, becoming the therapist to one surrounded by controversy and heartache to her home is. Drake Vincent still hadn’t awaken and where was she? Supporting the man responsible, not the family.

Mady rose from her seat and glided forward, “I need to make myself extremely clear here, Sebastian, and I’m only going to say this once. If I feel any backlash from these sessions endangers my well-being or that of anyone I care about greatly, I won’t hesitate putting an end to it. I know what I’m getting myself into, who you are, your reputation. I may be willing to help you and foolishly,” Madyson pressed her palms to the surface of the desk and leaned forward slightly. Almost...threateningly. “But I will not tolerate the physical violence. Shout and scream as you wish, I can handle it, but no more letter openers. No more fists.” She heard Sebastian‘s chair squeak as he leaned back, “It won’t be just Derek you’ll have to fret over, it’ll be me. Do you understand?”

“Where’s this Doctor Madyson Beckett been hiding?” Sebastian couldn’t mask the playful amusement lacing his tone. The behavior brought a familiarity to the forefront previously shrouded by depression and self-loathing. Hidden from view, concealed from the light of day with a crippling breaking point that had been so much a part of who Sebastian Ainsworth is. Yet, with the darkness crashing through, he’d rise again. “Yeah. Yes.” Correcting his proper grammar, Seb pushed himself from his seat, “I understand.”

“Good.” Madyson moved to grab her bag before hearing, “If you really want to make this official, it has to be the proper Ainsworth way.” The blonde turned to spot Sebastian’s hand jutted out palm open. Deals were a Davenport trademark, a contract binding the signer or hand shaker, in this case, to a promise. It seems Seb found an affinity towards them just as his brother and father. She had nothing to be nervous for, right? “How impolite of me, good sir.” Mady reached out and took his, the two shaking their connected hands firmly.

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Doctor Beckett.” Releasing his grip, the youngest Ainsworth smiled. “And thank you. For everything.” The first deal. The first of many, it would seem.