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feverishly-kpop · 5 days

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Feverish Ateez Headcanons

Hongjoong

Hongjoong simply doesn’t have time to be sick. Ironically, however, it’s his workaholic tendencies that wear down his immune system, leaving him vulnerable to whatever bug is going around. He’ll try to hide it but won’t make it very long because, when he gets sick, he gets SICK. It’s never just a cold, it’s a full blown flu. Never a slight fever, but a shivering-sweating-can’t get out of bed-somebody make everything stop spinning fever. Despite the severity of his illness, Hongjoong needs constant reassuring that work is continuing to get done and that his dongsaengs are taken care of. Seonghwa has been known to instruct the rest of the members to stay tight lipped around Hongjoong when he’s sick, not wanting to stress him out any more than he already inevitably is.

Seonghwa

Putting himself first is a concept foreign to Seonghwa. If a member is sick it’s almost a guarantee that Seonghwa will be at their side making sure their every need is met, even when that means sleepless nights and long days. As far as he’s concerned, that is his job as the oldest hyung, but it’s only a matter of time before he has pushed himself to the brink emotionally and physically and falls miserably ill himself. Even then, however, he’ll keep testing his limits until he is incapable of continuing, at which point he will retreat to his own room where he’ll attempt to reject any efforts taken by the others to care for him. That is, he’ll try until Hongjoong pulls rank as leader, leaving Seonghwa no other choice but to acquiesce.

Yunho

Yunho absolutely hates feeling vulnerable which pairs very poorly with the fact that his fevers come on quickly and always run high - high enough that he immediately feels sluggish and dazed as soon as his temperature starts rising. That’s why Seonghwa or Hongjoong tend to realize that Yunho’s sick before Yunho realizes it himself, but from there things go downhill rapidly, leaving him achy, confused, and all around miserable. The members know to handle a sick Yunho with kid gloves, fully aware that Yunho likely has no idea what is going on around him. Seonghwa seems to have the magic touch when it comes to getting him to settle down, especially after he’s woken up by a particularly disquieting fever dream or nightmare.

Yeosang

A sick Yeosang is a grumpy Yeosang. The members can always immediately tell when he’s coming down with something because his usually sweet demeanor turns sour at the drop of a dime. The minute that he’s sent home from work or sent back to bed he makes no effort to hide how resentful he is. Of course he knows that it’s nobody’s fault that he is sick but that doesn’t change how frustrated he gets when he’s feeling “left out.” Everybody knows to give Yeosang time and space to sulk but, by the end of the day, either Wooyoung or Jongho has climbed into bed with him, partially because they know how badly the chills hit him when he has a fever, but mostly because nobody can stand seeing him so upset for too long.

San

San truly and honestly does not know when to stop. Even if he did, he doesn’t particularly know how to stop. He will continue to work through just about anything until his body finally quits on him. Best case scenario - he sits down and can’t get back up again. Worst case scenario - he faints. Both of which the members have witnessed too many times. Each and every time San thinks the embarrassment of this episode will be enough to keep him from going too far again, but somehow it never does. Once he’s been tucked safely in bed where the team knows he can’t do any further damage to himself, it usually only takes a matter of minutes before Yeosang or Wooyoung receive a text sheepishly asking them to come lie down with him so he has somebody to hold while he sleeps. Unless Yunho’s already asleep, in which case San simply invites himself into Yunho’s bed and wraps his arms around him, often times not even stirring Yunho awake.

Mingi

When Mingi is sick he just wants to be left in peace, quiet, and solitude. He’s insecure about letting people see him sick. It feels too close to showing weakness for his comfort. He knows it worries the other members but it is just easier that way for him. Mingi tends to push his boundaries. It isn’t that he doesn’t know what his boundaries are, he is extremely self aware in that respect. He simply values his art over just about everything, often including his health, and struggles to apply the brakes when he goes too far. But once he’s able to ground himself again he’ll see to it that he has what he needs and surrender to some rest. The members have come to respect his need for space, even the hyungs who fought him on it for quite some time before meeting in the middle - as long as Mingi was actually taking care of himself they’d allow it, with the caveat that the door opens if and when he gets too sick to be alone. Luckily for him, however, his symptoms tend to be milder than some of the other members when he falls ill.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung is rubbish at listening to the signals his body gives him when he needs a break and coming down with a fever is no exception. He’ll work until Hongjoong, Seonghwa, or Yunho realize that something is off and bench him, which will make him emotional 110% of the time, convinced that he’s being forced to sit down because he was underperforming and disappointing the rest of the team. His emotions typically remain dysregulated until his fever breaks and the members have a difficult time calming him down once he’s upset. They can always count on lots of tears. Without fail, he craves attention from Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Yeosang and wants nothing more than to cuddle and, of course, nobody can say no to Wooyoung.

Jongho

Do. Not. Baby. Jongho. He is independent and that doesn’t change in the slightest when he’s running a fever. He’ll avoid his hyungs at all costs and, when he does happen to come across one as will inevitably happen despite his best efforts, he tends to be distant, citing somewhere he has to be to do something important that he’s running late for. Eventually he’ll break though, once he’s worn himself down enough. Then he’ll slink back home and snuggle into the side of the closest hyung he can find. Jongho doesn’t have to say a word, they all know by now that this is standard operating procedure when Jongho isn’t feeling well. He truly doesn’t care which hyung he finds first, as long as they don’t say “I told you so.”

#kpop sickfic #kpop fluff #sickfic #ateez fluff #ateez sickfic #ateez headcanons #headcanon #sick headcanons #fluff headcanons

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ultramaga · 30 days

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#facebook #let's go brandon #leftism #corruption #fbi

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w1tchcr4ftt · 10 months

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Finally, here is the rough draft of the apocalypse AU

Wally Darling- the savior

Home- the protector/ the entity

Howdy- the tradesman

Frank- the identifier

Poppy- the medic

Barnaby- the right hand man

Sally- the entertainer

Julie- the peace keeper

Eddie- the messenger

More after the cut

Wally Darling- After the the initial explosion, air was deemed unbreathable due to the fact that it caused a contagious virus, the only safe place seemed to be Wally’s home and the area surrounding. Due to this Wally had become a refugee harborer, helping people find their families and friends, but nobody ever stayed. That is until a certain big dog came across trying to find a home

Barnaby B. Beagle- Wally’s best friend and right hand man, Barnaby serves as Wally’s assistant and is often the one keeping him sane. Whenever Wally goes off on his excursions to places unknown to Barnaby, he acts as the leader of the group, making sure everybody is happy and and doing okay

Julie Joyful- After a the blast, Julie was lost for quite some time before finally coming across a quiet little area with surprisingly breathable air. As the group became bigger, more fights started happening relating to iffy decisions and questionable outcomes. Due to this, Julie started doing everything in her power to keep the group from tearing eachother apart, and keeping everyone happy. Many of the groups members are very thankful for her especially a certain grumpy fellow

Frank Frankly- After Julie moved in, Frank followed suit. They serve as the resident scientist and identifier of the ill and infected. They also enjoy studying bugs that managed to survive the blast! They often bicker with Barnaby and Sally, but always ends in a pun and an annoyed groan from all who had to hear it. But it still gets a chuckle out of the local messenger.

Eddie Dear- Eddie works as a messenger, getting letters to and from the developing blast survivor settlements. He will often go out for a few days before returning, often resulting in Frank worrying. There hasn’t be a trip he hasn’t returned from yet, and everyone still gets their mail.

Howdy Pillar- The local trader who set his shop in the neighborhood. He often relies on Eddie bringing him produce from his mail trips, so they became good friends. Howdy often argues with Wally because he seems to always take his apples. Many of the other group members find their antics to be quite funny, so nobody ever stops them

Sally Starlet- Thanks to the air outside the neighborhood being toxic, most of the members are forced to stay indoors when air quality gets worse. Because of this, Sally has become the resident entertainer. She puts on shows with Julie, comedy acts with Barnaby, commercials with Howdy, and even her own 1-person plays. She enjoys being the center of attention, and she’s happy she’s keeping the rest of the group from going out of their minds

Poppy Patridge- Whenever Eddie comes back from a mail run or Wally returns from his adventures, Poppy automatically checks them for any injuries or ailments. She often worries about her friends getting hurt even when they are inside the safe-zone. She often has everyone stop by her home once a week to make sure everyone is healthy

Home- Home is the most important member of the group, considering it as alive. It produces a strangely breathable air both inside and within a certain range, depending on how strong the house is feeling. They only ever allow Wally in unless he has given a neighbor permission. If someone attempts to enter, Wally seems to appear behind them, as if manifesting out of the air to question their actions. Home is usually quiet and kind otherwise, it often watches the neighbors antics, enjoying viewing them from the sidelines.

And that’s what I have for the neighbors so far! Obviously tweaks will be made, things will be edited, but this is what I’ve got so far!

#w1tch.txt #I will make my horribly drawn art of them shortly #please enjoy this handcrafted au at 2:17 pm #welcome home apocalypse #welcome home #home welcome home #wally darling #barnaby b beagle #julie joyful #sally starlet #poppy partridge #howdy pillar #frank frankly #eddie dear #welcome home apocalypse au #welcome home au #au #apocalypse au

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cottakit · 8 months

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Starstruck Fear Info Dump!

Like all people, humans and monsters alike, Starstruck has fears. A lot of them are caused by past trauma in their AU, and therefore I will be hiding them below the cut! As they could be potentially harmful to people with trauma of the same type. There are also a few more sneak peeks into Starstruck's character and past!

Check out other Starstruck posts: Starstruck's Design 1.0! Meet Starstruck! Starstruck's Magic And Attacks!

Starstruck's fears range from true PTSD to simple phobias. Their common phobias include the fear of spiders. That's about it, the only fear that they have that isn't related to any sort of past events is the fear of spiders.

More in-depth fears include the fear of failure, the fear of abandonment, the fear of exclusion, the fear of being forgotten, the fear of making enemies, and the fear of being misunderstood. These aren't the most out-of-the-ordinary fears, but they still tie in with their backstory, and so it is in this section.

I will be explaining all of the reasons below, which will reveal quite a lot of their backstory!

So, for the fear of failure: This fear started to bloom when Starstruck was a mere child and used to be in responsibility of their two brothers. They used to go without food for days at a time just to feed them both. They would do errands for the occupants of Waterfall for food or money. Waterfall soon became their only safe space. However, when crossing over the disproportionately small gap during an errand, they slipped and dropped both of their brothers. One was caught by the bird, thankfully carrying him across to the other side safely, and the other... Starstruck had been dropped in the water themself but managed to scramble out without getting washed away by the current like their baby brother. They swore they could see something from the corner of their eye before their brother sunk down into the water. What was yet to come of those sights and possible hallucinations, they wish they could've stopped. They now feel that if they make any mistake, no matter how small and insignificant it might be, it will end with the same tragedy that caused their family to go from three to two.

For the fear of exclusion, and the fear of being forgotten: As they grew older, they were no longer as helpful to the people of Waterfall. Who were once friendly kids that they could play with, were turning into adults with their own lives. They could no longer distract themselves with a game of fetch, tag, or snail racing. Their friends were no longer interested in those sorts of things. Even their own brother had made his own friends. Sure, that was a good thing, but it left them alone once again. They wanted to play with their brother and his friends, but they were older by a few years. They didn't belong anywhere. But don't worry, their brother grew up to hang out with his older sibling again!

For the fear of making enemies: [REDACTED] used to poke around at their little brother, which made them suspicious of it. Its intentions were clear. Therefore, they were in denial of it, keeping their brother away from it. It did not like that. It was there to hurt him. It was there to hurt them. And that is what it did, years into the future when Starstruck and their little brother thought it was gone. Starstruck has felt dizzy ever since, an ever-spinning parasite in their brain. It would never let them go. Why would it? They were mean to it, they were enemies, and they deserved this eternal mental torture. At least that is what is constantly rushing through Starstruck's mind when they are alone.

For the fear of being misunderstood: They had told everybody around them that [REDACTED] was not safe, that it had ill intentions. But nobody believed them. They swore to see them in the corners of their eyes, to see them lurking from a distance, seeing them clung to their brother when they looked away. Everybody thought they were simply psychotic. It was friendly! It was always smiling and always had such a happy tone. They passed it off, telling them that they were in the wrong. The gaslighting went on for years, until [REDACTED] lashed out and finally proved itself horrid. But, soon after, no one was left to rant to about how they were right the whole time.

That's all! That was a big info dump! Both brothers' names will remain unknown, and so will [REDACTED]'s, until the AU is complete. Thank you to everybody who read up to this point!

~Cottakit

#Sans AU #OC #OC Information #Underdaze #Undertale AU #Sans AU OC #Undertale OC #Starstruck!Sans #Information Dump #Fears #OC Backstory #Cottakit

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parttimereporter · 1 month

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REASON Mag has a must read:

The FBI spends "every day, all day long" interrogating people over their Facebook posts. At least, that's what agents told Stillwater, Oklahoma, resident Rolla Abdeljawad when they showed up at her house to ask her about her social media activity. Three FBI agents came to Abdeljawad's house and said that they had been given "screenshots" of her posts by Facebook. Her lawyer Hassan Shibly posted a video of the incident online on Wednesday. Abdeljawad told agents that she didn't want to talk and asked them to show their badges on camera, which the agents refused to do. She wrote on Facebook that she later confirmed with local police that the FBI agents really were FBI agents. "Facebook gave us a couple of screenshots of your account," one agent in a gray shirt said in the video. "So we no longer live in a free country and we can't say what we want?" replied Abdeljawad.

#freedom #freedom of speech #FBI #crime #government

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solomonish · 3 years

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way to go mc, you’ve allowed yourself to be poisoned (nowdateables)

CW for: descriptions of food and eating, brief descriptions of choking-like symptoms. (mainly in the intro, though the individual stories mention coughing, (light) blood and fainting). there will be talk of food and keeping an eye on what is being eaten in the individual character stories as well.

find the brothers here!

When you start coughing:

You’re at a sort of banquet when it happens, which is as embarrassing for you as it is horrifying for him

At first, the brother nearest you just assumes you’re choking, but just as your coughing gets loud enough to attract attention you’re already falling to the ground, covering your mouth.

Diavolo immediately moves towards you but he’s ushered away because nobody realizes it was a fumble on the new chef’s part and can’t take the risk of it being some kind of botched assassination attempt, and some of his staff have to drag him away as he watches helplessly over his shoulder

He sends Barbatos to check on you and sees him kneeling beside Simeon, who is already focusing on you, when he leaves the room.

Taking care of you afterwards:

What he couldn’t do when you were facing the brunt of the poison, he makes up for in taking care of you afterwards.

You wake up in a soft bed, much bigger than any you’ve ever been in before. He’s not touching you, but he is watching you as he lies on his side next to you, propping his head up on one hand. His eyes seem to glow in the dark room, and you think for a moment “huh, funny how this should be something that scares me to death.”

Diavolo is normally a pretty boisterous guy, but when he sees you’re awake and smiles at you, you see the softer, more serious side of him.

Diavolo tries to insist that you either go to the human realm for care or allow him to bring someone, but you point out that the whole program he’s got going on is a little abnormal and it would probably take too long for them to adjust.

He settles for someone you know, like Satan, Simeon or Solomon. He treats them with such firmness, though, you see their eyes flicker to you like “?? is this the same person?”

Diavolo is with you every spare moment he can get: in between meetings, cancelling any non-essential tasks, taking paperwork into the room and sitting with you while he does it

Lucifer probably has a sleepless week ahead of him, picking up his slack :(

Is very gentle with you and lets you take as much time as you need off from school

Afterwards, does thorough checks on his cooking staff and starts drafting mandates to add human-safe options in any restaurant or other eatery you choose

even asks for your input on any human dishes you think should be recreated. the food industry may hate you but hey, now you get to eat the Devildom version of your favorite food wherever you go!

When you start coughing:

Barbatos would never accidentally poison you. He is too practiced in his diligence. He would also never allow you to accidentally poison yourself - the watchful eye he keeps on the prince is not reserved for him.

If you were to somehow be poisoned, accidentally or due to the ill will of somebody else, he wouldn’t be in the same room.

That’s not to say he isn’t immediately alerted and, if he’s close by, he’s making his way to you immediately.

Barbatos has a relatively calm and even pleasant demeanor, but the solemn frown he has on his face when he enters the room silences any chaos your fainting might have caused.

Taking care of you afterwards:

When Barbatos needs to give stellar care, he just defaults to the royal treatment. lucky you, right?

He doesn’t have the most time to stop by and check on you - and the brothers probably whisked you away to the House of Lamentation before he could offer you a place closer to him. (they have the Devildom’s most capable medical staff on hand, yes?)

He definitely does visit you - sometimes Diavolo arrives under the guise of having to talk to Lucifer and lets Barbatos go to you, others he just shows up.

Definitely scrutinizes every little thing the brothers are doing for you and then decides to do things himself.

Soon enough he has traded out your pillows and blankets for much softer ones from the palace, and he makes sure you’re equipped with any potions or even human painkillers you may need while your body recovers.

If you ask him why he’s getting so into it, he just says “What can I say? I only know how to give the best treatment. I’ve had plenty of practice with My Lord.”

When he bends down to press a kiss to your forehead, give him a smirk and ask “oh? is this part of the special treatment Diavolo gets too?”

He’ll just give you a wry smile. You’re lucky he’s still got to treat you gently. “Save such jest for Lucifer, my dear.”

When you start coughing:

He probably did it himself

Everybody already knows his reputation with preparing food, and after you live for however many years and plant names change, you forget some of the names of what is and isn’t poisonous to a regular human.

When you start coughing, he isn’t even concerned - it’s more of an “ah shit, here we go again” reaction because he’s used to this

It isn’t until you fall on the floor that he gets...suspicious.

“Come on MC, don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?” He asks, not even bothering to hide his disappointment

It isn’t until you don’t answer and he can hear you practically wheezing that he realizes what he’s done

He kneels down to the ground beside you and rubs your back in an attempt to show that he realizes what is going on and looks at the counter, where some of the ingredients he used are still sitting

He stares at a devildom plant that looks suspiciously like mint for a few moments before it clicks that it’s well liked in the devildom for the intense burning sensation it gives

Taking care of you afterwards:

Solomon is as adept at poison remedies as he is at accidentally poisoning people. (he wasn’t always immortal, after all. he’s had to live with his dangerous curiosity way before he figured that out.)

He’d keep you in Purgatory Hall for the first day, seeing the sorry state you were in.

Would offer you his bed to rest while he sits cross legged on the ground next to you, back against the bed with a spell book. Sometimes he’ll crack open an easy one and talk you through some of the simpler spells, and others he reads it for himself while you rest.

Isn’t big on the proactive care but all you need to do is say his name and he’s ready to get anything you need <3

Only tells the brothers that you’re staying the night because he doesn’t want them to kick the door down. Only tells them why because Asmo started making assumptions in the group chat

Everybody afterwards will tell you that honestly, what else did you expect to happen? It’s Solomon’s cooking, MC. Really.

Solomon figures you’re fine figuring out what foods are safe on your own, but since it was someone you supposedly trusted that poisoned you, he finds himself eyeing any food given to you by a friend. However, since HE was the one who actually poisoned you, this most often ends in intense stare-offs that you have to break up

When you start coughing:

Angels don’t have to be as careful as humans - after all, their lives and bodies aren’t nearly as fragile as yours is.

He doesn’t notice that there’s something in the dish you can’t eat, but he does notice the moment you realize something is wrong.

Watching a human realize that they’ve just put their life in danger is a horrible thing, and the look in your eyes sent his blood pressure skyrocketing before your coughing even got super bad.

He can see your lips swelling and that’s when he looks at the salad on your plate.

He doesn’t dare leave your side, and instead opts to send an emergency message to EVERYONE.

Surprisingly, the “MC. POUSOND. NOW. 💀” gets the message across fairly efficiently.

Taking care of you afterwards:

Being under the care of an angel is a heavenly experience indeed.

Simeon is allowed to stay with you while you recover, offering you multiple soothing drinks and chapsticks to help alleviate your pain.

He keeps your room clean and cool so your environment is as peaceful as can be!

Any gifts the brothers offer, he gives to you personally.

He jokingly offers to spoon-feed you, and if you take him up on the offer you’re both blushing by the end of it.

Once you’re better, he’ll find you at lunch and cheerfully remind you to look what’s on your plate. if you brush him off, he’ll just smile and say something like “don’t you remember what happened last time?” but his smile says something dangerous

When you start coughing:

HE. FREAKS. OUT.

Most likely to think this was a direct attack on you and he’s ready to throw hands. Simeon has to place a hand on his shoulder to get him to calm down.

His voice gets higher the more he fights to get close to you, and Simeon starts gently leading him away while sending concerned glances over his shoulder

Taking care of you afterwards:

The first time he brings you sweets and the demons feel the need to check it over and refuse to give it to you he almost cries

He’s not the one who hurt you, and he worked hard on those!!

Simeon tells him that your stomach might be upset still and that makes him feel a little better, because at least he didn’t directly offend you like that.

Will get “angry” (read: pouty) if you don’t let him PERSONALLY inspect what you’re eating for anything poisonous

Can be found at the kitchen table in Purgatory Hall, hunched and asleep as he drools over cookbooks with human-safe recipes

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holdharmonysacred · 2 years

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man I think the thing that gets me about fe3h is like. The whole setting and backstory and plot of the game is founded on a goddamn fantasy genocide. and literally everything about crests and Rhea’s shenanigans comes down to it being an in-universe fact that Nemesis and his goons murdered almost all the dragon people and desecrated their remains to make crests and crest stones and heroes’ relics. and Rhea and Seteth and Flayn and friends do what they do because they are genocide survivors trying very very hard to not get targeted in another genocide. and god damn near the entire cast of the game has either directly or indirectly profited off of the nabatean genocide because their ancestors killed the dragon people, stole their remains, and used their ill-gotten gains to obtain power. And it is one of the most horrifying plot reveals the game could have, that the prosperity of the in-game present is built on the worst crime anyone can do. And you’d think between this and stuff like the Duscur subplot that this would be a main theme of the game, this question of how do we as a society atone for a crime as massive as genocide, how do we keep survivors safe, how do we dismantle systems that profit off of crimes like that, and how do we make sure this never happens again?

and the problem is that game itself flat out does not care about ANY of this.

The writers don’t give a FUCK about the pretty serious themes they’ve written themselves into. They don’t care that they’ve built this setting on some pretty dark shit. All they wanted to write was “lol what if the holy blood from FE4 was eeeeeevil?” and did not care about the implications of what they were writing. Rhea’s just there to be a walking red herring, a damsel in distress, and a plot device for Byleth’s backstory, not an actual character in her own right who’s stuck in a pretty heartbreaking position and yet gets constantly shit on for it by the fanbase. Nobody in the game even notices or cares that their superweapons are clearly bones!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And then not only that, but the game itself is incentivized to not care about what it’s written because the writers want to shill for their waifu Edelgard, and Edelgard’s written to have a massive part of her goal be “she’s a racist who hates the dragon people and wants to finish the genocide by killing Rhea and friends”. And rather than actually call out that bit of ugliness in her character, it just gets swept under the rug and ignored. Because god forbid we call Edelgard out on her shit, even as she’s committing one of the most horrific crimes known to man. And it makes the discourse absolutely poisonous because the fans don’t wanna call Edelgard out on her shit either, so at best we just have this horrible elephant in the room that everybody ignores, at worst it turns into genuine racism and “genocide is okay actually!” bullshit. And it sucks.

Like, yeah, if we’re gonna argue about it then yeah, crests in Fodlan should go away. But they shouldn’t go away because something something they’re an axis of oppression (which they’re not), they should go away because they are unending physical reminders that nearly everyone playable in the game benefits from the murder of the Nabateans. The crest stones and heroes’ relics should be returned to Rhea and the dragon family and laid to rest in a tomb, and it sucks that the game never actually addresses this pretty big thing.

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yandere-wishes · 4 years

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Yandere Charcter Encyclopedia

A list of some requested charcters and the types of yandere’s they would be. I might open requests for a part two later idk yet.

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Twisted Wonderland

Vil Schoenheit is controlling and possessive.

You need to be the BEST!

It's more so this lovesick notion that Vil seems to be "in love with" rather than you as a person. No one knows exactly why Vil chose you as his dearly significant other and Vil has never given any inkling as to why he favors you above everybody else. It's a paradox, an unsolvable mystery. But the truth is Vil fell in love with you, not for your looks, nor your personality, heck you didn't even really do some outstanding gesture that pulled at his heartstrings, no, instead you did nothing. Confusing, I know but let me explain, you were a nobody. No breathtaking looks, no fantastic personality, no influential family. There was NOTHING special about you! This means you had the potential to be something special, something extraordinary and the only person in the universe who could raise you to such levels was nonother than the head of Pomfiore, Vil Schoenheit!

Every day he spends hours making sure you look perfect, a face painted in just the right ways to make others believe you had the features of an angel sent from above. Posture so straight, shoulders pulled back to make others think you were the long lost heiress to some fallen family. Never once did you speak out of place or with a tone harboring too many emotions, every word that left your mouth was so well thought out and prepared that others could only suspect you were some sort of genius.

You were nothing, that's what made Vil notice you in the first place, that's what made him mold you into the perfect someone. Whatever you are now is only thanks to your darling, caring lover...never forget that.

Rook Hunt is delusional.

Rook's brain is an incredibly messed up place and it only gets worst the longer he's around you. You are a little rabbit, nimble and sweet and he is the hunter that wants to stick a bow right through your beating heart, a lovely pair you two make, wouldn't you agree? But the more he stalks you, following you around like a second shadow. The more he realizes that he doesn't want you simply for the thrill of a small chase...oh no, he wants to keep you. Put you in a golden cage and throw away the key. You're not some rare catch like le roi des lions or a breathtaking sight like le roi des poisons. No instead you're simple, you aren't a game of nither wit nor strength, you are simply a game of love. Because you love him already don't you? You know he's been following you and doesn't do anything about it because you want him to catch you, right? You want the greatest hunter to hit you with his cupid's arrow so you can fall into his awaiting arms, right where you belong!

Azul is manipulative (were you guys seriously expecting something else?)

Azul is all calculations and deals, all wit and talk. He's got guts to go up against just about anyone he meets and he’s smart enough to turn them into a fish out of water. So maybe it was his confidence that let’s you slip away with lax deals, bending the rules for a helpless little angelfish such as yourself. He doesn't notice that he has feelings for you, not until you stroll into the VIP room of the Mostro Lounge looking for your "dearest friend Azul", all to simply ask him for a contract to make the lousy excuse of an Ignyhide dorm leader fall in love with you. It's then and there that Azul decides it's time to toughen up the rules, tighten the noose around your pretty little neck. You don't even notice until you're rejected by Idia and some strang red string is dragging you into Azul's waiting embrace.

Kalim is delusional and obsessive.

To Kalim, this is just another heart-filled game. You belong to him and he belongs to you, it's simple! The two of you are so in love...it's just you're a little shy when it comes to admitting it! That's okay, Kalim knows a few drinks from the land of hot sands that will loosen your tongue and if that fails there's always Jamil's hypnosis magic that can make you confess! Look, no matter how you go about it, Kalim is just all so convinced that you love him that it doesn't matter what you really think!

Ruggie is manipulative (Lord have mercy on you people the day I finally muster up the courage to write Savancalw yandere headcanons)

Oh sure, male hyenas are passive when it comes to females everyone knows that! But whilst Ruggie does follow -albeit loosely- the reserved yet desperate routines of hyena courtship, he leans more towards suffocating his chosen mate with his presence rather than showing a desperate side of himself. He's always circling his chosen darling, stalking them down the halls, trailing after them all over campus, he never leaves them alone. Any confrontations from his darling will lead to an immediate sob story. Something about how he could smell food in your bag and didn't have any money to buy his own meal or maybe about how he never met a girl as cute as you in slums so he had no idea how to approach you properly. Of course, this is all a hoax, he just needs you to drop your guard, to look him in the eyes with your sad, heart-throbbing orbs, then it's game over, you're all his. "Hey, what's with the dull face? come on, laugh with me skskksks~".

Jack is a protective.

It's only natural really, wolves are overprotective when it comes to their pack members and sure maybe you aren't really a part of his pack per se. But that doesn't mean he's just going to leave you to fend for yourself. You're all so small and frail, you could never hold your own against anyone! Let alone all the mages in NRC. But Jack can, he can protect you and defend himself, it's not a problem. He's very likely torn on whether or not to actually kidnap his darling. On one hand, he doesn't want you to hate him for stealing you away from your friends, he wouldn't want to play the role of the big bad wolf in your story. But on the other hand, poor Jack just isn't lucid enough to fully understand that whisking you away is wrong. In the end, you probably just wind up in his room locked away, or better yet, protected from all the horrors of the outside world.

Deuce is an obsessive

He just wants to be around you all the time. It's mostly some deep routed paranoia that at any fleeting moment you'll somehow abandon him finding refuge with either Cater or Ace. Maybe you find their lazy stupid mannerisms amusing, is that it? If you want lazy, he can be lazy too! Or maybe you want to be with Riddle? Do you like guys who are mean spirited and quick to anger? He can yell! He can yell so much better than Riddle can! Deuce will do anything, anything at all to get you to stay with him. Even if some of his tactics are a little more painful and involve some broken bones.

Hypnosis Mic

Jakurai is possessive and protective

He's overbearing to put it simply, constantly hovering around you, ghosting his fingers over your flesh, or leaving lingering kisses on any patch of exposed skin. First and foremost Jakurai is a doctor, so it's his nature to be nurturing, sure you can accept that much. But what he does to you isn't nurturing in any way shape or form! Juakurai isn't above using sedatives and other forms of medications to keep you compliant, that's not what a good doctor should do, you're both lucid enough to know that. But to Ill-Doc you leave him no other choice, you're constantly disobeying him, trying to find some underhanded way to leave him. So what else can the poor man do! He needs to keep his only escape from the tedious loneliness he's been cursed with, safe!

kamigami no asobi

Balder is possessive and obsessive

He can't help it, there's just something so radiant and sparkling inside of you, something that he can't let get tainted by the darkness that rests within others. You're always walking on thin ice around him, chewing every single word before conversing, calculating every single step before daring to make the slightest move. One wrong look or miscalculated word could get him to spiral into a fit madness, and this time there won't be anyone to save you. But that's only if you do the wrong thing! Just keep playing the role of the loving, adoring girlfriend and there won't be any further...complications. If you simply show him how much you love him, Balder can become all so sickly sweet. A perfect doting boyfriend, constantly sharing his precious meat with you and dressing you up in prettiest lavish gowns from Asgard.

Obey me

Asmodeus is sneaky

The avatar of lust is used to swift meaningless relationships, too caught up in the passion and pleasure to really care about the other person. But with his darling things are different. Oh sure, the lust and sexual tension is still there, always hovering around the air like a thick unbreakable fog. Accept this time there's something else, a sort of jealous aroma blowing through the dense mist. It's intoxicating, making Asmoudaus crave only his little darling, he only wants to look at them, touch them, kiss only them! It's almost like he's addicted to every itty bitty detail about his newfound lover. Will Asmodeus get bored of the relationship over time? Absolutely! But will he ever actually leave his darling to their own devices? Hell no! Asmodeus may have the right to cheat on his darling but they can NEVER so much as think about another man other than him! HE.OWNS.THEM! Their body, mind, soul, it all belongs to him!

Black Butler

Snake is Jealous (I haven't written for black butler since, like, sixth grade)

Snake does love you, this is an evident fact, he never once leaves your side. It's suffocating sure, but it's only because the scaled boy is so paranoid that you might run away with someone else, someone normal. His snakes (mostly Emily) are always chaining the two of you together, constantly curling around your skin so you won't get any ideas to escape. Lord forbid you so much as look at another man, that'll make the white-haired snake charmer go into a fit of pure utter rage. normally Snake won't punish you, but when his jealousy gets too much to keep inside he'll let it out by screaming at you. Asking you if you find him repulsive if you wish to leave him for someone who looks normal. This will than lead to him crushing you in his arms, begging you not to leave him! Overall Snake is one of the tamer yandere of the Phantomhive residence, a real blessing in disguise.

mystic messenger

Saeyoung is obsessive

It's really all just a small accident, this was never really meant to happen, he wasn't meant to fall in love with you. Saeyoung probably just came across your profile whilst on the web, scrolling through some database or another. like I said, IT.WAS.AN.ACCIDENT...and yet all so many times accidents can lead to something...more. Saeyoung doesn't know what particular thing it was about you that caught his attention, maybe it was your cute face or some little odd, out of place detail in your bio. Either way, it has the red-haired hacker surfing through every site just to learn more about you. Picking the internet apart just to find out some small fragments of your personal life. It's become a sort of hobby -addiction- of his, stalking your every move through trackers and reverse cameras. One day he might even gather the courage to speak to you in person, but for now, he's content watching your pretty face from behind a screen.

Code Realize

Impey is Obessasive and clingy

It's your smile, right from the get-go, Impey was enthralled by your cheerful smile. It makes his heart skip a beat, his palms grow sweaty, and his breath hitches in his throat. He just adores that pearly white grin. He's constantly pestering you, poking your cheek, and asking you to smile for him just once more. "Just a small smile, please~". His clinginess is mostly due to the fear of losing you or more so having you stolen from him. That's why he never let's go of your hand and is constantly locking you in his room. "I'm the only one that deserves to see that smile" it's such a childish phrase, primarily when it's accompanied by his renowned pout. Of course, things start to go downhill when you outright refuse to smile. Choosing instead to cry and scream, begging someone to save you from this mad man. Impey is borderline delusional if he thinks you'll ever smile for him again, after the stunt he's pulled.

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janeyseymour · 3 years

Text

Secret Santa

My wonderful friend Ay had an idea to do a white elephant with this bunch? I don’t really understand white elephant, so I changed it a bit, and uh... this was born. I hope you enjoy!

Every year since being reincarnated, the queens did a secret santa gift exchange. This year, they added the entire diner crew. Fluff ensues.

Christmas was coming, and as usual, Jane was in the Christmas spirit as much as anybody else.

“Every year, we do a secret santa exchange between the queens and I know for a fact the others wouldn’t mind if you and your family joined in on the fun!” the queen explained to her waitress friend.

“It honestly might be better that way,” Aragon let out a laugh. “We all end up finding out who our secret santa is before we exchange gifts anyway.”

“We’d love to do that!”

“Sounds great! So, we normally draw names, well... tonight. And then, on Christmas Eve we usually exchange gifts. Although, I’m sure we could do another night if you would rather celebrate Christmas Eve with just Lulu and Jim. You’re more than welcome to hang out with us that day too though! And oh, Becky, Dawn and Ogie will surely be around too right? Maybe even Cal? We’d be more than happy to have you all. Although, again, it really wouldn’t be offensive to us if-”

“Jane, you’re rambling.”

“Oh, dammit. Sorry,” the silver queen apologized.

“There’s really nothing to apologize for. We’d love to celebrate Christmas Eve with you, and I’m sure everyone would love to participate in the secret santa exchange!”

The group of thirteen gathered at the diner one night, ready to pick names out of a hat.

“Okay, the rule is, if you pick yourself, you have to redraw. We don’t need another situation like last year,” Jane laughed, giving a pointed look at the fourth queen. The previous year, Anna had picked herself and bought herself a new car- one she crashed and totalled approximately a week later.

“Oh god, don’t remind me Seymour,” the red queen groaned in embarrassment.

“Who’s first?” When no one made a move, the blonde looked towards the youngest one there. “Well Lu?”

The girl in pigtails stuck her hand in the bowl with all of the names and picked. Thankfully, she was excelling in her reading and knew how to read each and every person’s name there. She opened it up, not letting anybody see who she had, and grinned.

“You didn’t get yourself, right love?”

“Nope! I got the perfect person!” Jane. She had gotten her Aunt Janey.

The group continued to pick until everyone had someone. Nobody had gotten themselves, and everybody had kept it a secret.

“So the other rule is it has to fit in a plastic bag from the diner. That way, when everyone brings their presents over, it isn’t given away who had who based on the bag everyone carries in. “And yes, we learned this from previous years.”

Cathy laughed, fondly remembering the time she had figured out who had who based on the bags they all carried in and who ended up with the gift bags before they had even started opening presents.

“And one final thing, keep the name of the person you have in your hand. That’s the tag we use so we can’t identify others by their writing.” Kat let out a laugh, remembering she knew in previous years who her secret santa was based on handwriting alone.

And so, there they were on Christmas Eve, having eaten more than they had on Thanksgiving and laughing more than they ever had.

“Lu, are you excited for Santa to come?” Anne bounced the little one in her lap.

“I am! I hope Santa brings you guys everything you want too!” The girl beamed, always thinking of others. “Can we start our secret santa present thingy so I can go to bed so Santa can come?”

“I think that’s a great idea miss Lu!” Jenna beamed at her daughter. It was becoming a hassle to get her daughter to go to bed these days, so her wanting to go to bed was a welcomed change.

“So, how do you guys run this thing?” Becky looked towards Jane for guidance.

“Well, we usually all sit on the floor in a circle,” Jane began and gestured for everyone to move before continuing. “And since we all put our bags under the tree, why don’t we just all pass the bags out? Lulu can start since she’s the youngest, and then whoever her secret santa is can go next and so on. Who wants to play Santa this year?”

“Me!” Lulu’s hand shot up, and she was out of the second queen’s lap in an instant.

The little one had passed out everyone’s presents, and

“Go ahead little Lu,” Anne beamed, hoping that her younger friend would like her gift.

The girl opened her present with no hesitation, her mouth agape once she saw what was in the bag: a new apron with all of the queens’ assigned colors in stripes with the addition of a purple stripe. “Woah! This is amazing! Thank you secret santa! I love it!”

“Who do you think gave you the gift?” Jim questioned.

“I don’t know, but whoever did, thank you!” Lulu exclaimed, already having put the apron on proudly.

“Hun, the point of the game is to guess who gave you the gift,” Becky told her gently.

“Oh!” the girl laughed, a bit confused but happy to go along with the game. “I think... Lina!”

“Wasn’t me mija,” the first queen shrugged. “Guess again?”

“Aunt Janey?”

“Good guess love, but it wasn’t me either. One more guess,” the silver queen laughed.

“Annie?”

“Bingo!” The green queen exclaimed. Lulu immediately launched herself at the woman with space buns.

“Oh my gosh Annie, thank you so much! I love it!”

“I’m glad you like it! I worked pretty hard on it!” Nobody but Jane knew the truth in that statement. The second queen had caved and asked- no. begged- Jane to teach her how to sew in order to make this present.

“I love it! It has all of your colors from the show! But, what’s this purple here for?”

“Well, I figured, you might like to have your own color!”

(Lulu would claim her favorite color was purple for the rest of her life.)

“Okay Annie, it's your turn to open your present!”

“Wheels for my heelies? Bro! This could be anyone!”

“Look a little closer,” Becky stifled a laugh.

“What? Wait, turtles? This could only be from Dawn!”

“You caught me,” the waitress with glasses blushed.

(The silly queen would always make sure to put these wheels in when Dawn was around.)

“A new turtle pin!” Dawn grinned and happily attached it to her shirt. “Thank you to uh,” the waitress glanced at it and remembered all of the queens’ respected colors. “Catherine!”

“I think it’s safe to say everyone here has earned the right to call me Catalina, or even Lina,” the first wife said genuinely.

“Thank you Lina.” Dawn smiled at the nickname.

(That pin became her second favorite- right under the turtle pin that Ogie gave her as a wedding present.)

“These are beautiful.” The golden queen admired the beautiful earrings that she had received.

“Any guesses?”

“Jane?”

“It wasn’t me, and I really don’t know who it’s from,” the blonde said earnestly.

“Cathy?”

“Not from me.”

“Jenna?” The head waitress shook her head no.

“What the-”

“It’s from me,” the usually gruff cook said shyly as he raised his hand quietly.

“Thank you Cal.” Catherine went about taking her Christmas earrings out and putting her new ones in. “They’re beautiful.”

“I hope you like them.”

(Catherine wore them to a press junket. Cal noticed and smiled to himself. He was glad she liked them enough to wear on a red carpet. When the gold queen was asked about the beautiful earrings, she was happy to tell the world a close friend named Cal gave them to her.)

“A new apron? And a new spatula?” Cal looked confused. In reality, this could be from anyone. “Jenna?” the brunette made a ‘no’ gesture. “Jim?”

“Nope.”

“Look a little closer at the spatula,” Cathy spoke up. “ Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers” was engraved into it.

“Shakespeare?” Cal looked a bit bewildered.

“It means that if a cook can’t bear to eat his own food, he isn’t a very good cook, and we all know you’re one of the best around,” Cathy explained, a tint of red shading her face. “And I’ve noticed that your apron is stapled to keep it together. Figured you might like a new one.”

“I- Thanks Cath.” The man smiled one of the most genuine smiles any of his coworkers had ever seen. Jenna would be sure to tell Cathy how much that present had meant to him, because the lord knew that Cal wasn’t very good at expressing his feelings.

(It didn’t go unnoticed that the spatula was used exactly once before it hung in a shadowbox that the cook would touch for good luck every time he walked into the diner for the rest of his time working.)

“Bookmarks? This could quite literally be from anyone,” the writer laughed. “Who do I have left to choose from?” She surveyed the room before noticing that a certain mother wouldn’t look her in the eye. “Jenna?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you know I needed new bookmarks?” She truly thought that only her fellow queens would pick up on the fact that she was using strange objects as bookmarks.

“I’ve seen the way you’ll use anything as a bookmark, but I’ve never seen you use a proper bookmark,” Jenna explained. “For crying out loud, I saw you use a soda can tab the other day.”

“I-” the sixth queen was truly stunned. And then, she got a closer look at the bookmarks. They were beautiful- all different shades of blue, but each had delicate details and accents with her fellow queens colors. “These are beautiful. Thank you.”

(She would go on to use these bookmarks for the rest of her days, alternating between the different bookmarks.)

“A new pie dish!” the baker exclaimed with glee. “Oh how wonderful! Thank you!”

“Who’s it from?” Jim questioned.

“It’s from-,” Jenna eyed up the pie dish for a long while before catching that on the side in small and crisp writing it read, “ all i wanna do is bake... all i do is sing... all i do is bake and sing” “-Thank you Kat.”

“You’re welcome,” the pink haired queen tried to say it casually. “Hope you like it.”

“I love it. And I love the reference to the musical.”

(Whenever she brought over pie to the queens from that day forward, she made sure to bake it in the pie dish that the fifth queen had gifted her.)

“A book on American history...?” Katherine grinned, knowing exactly who gave it to her. “Thank you Ogie.”

“I thought since you liked British history so much, you might like to read up on American history now that you live in the states,” Ogie offered. “If you don’t like it though, I can surely think of something else to get you.”

“That won’t be necessary. I love it. Thank you.”

(Kat would stay up late into the night reading about the fascinating history of the country she now resided in. Cathy would find her asleep the next morning with the book in her lap before leaving the room. She returned with the bookmark matched with her friend’s color and bookmark the page for her, but not before attaching a sticky note that read, “ I expect this to be returned to me when you wake up.” When Ogie was playing Paul Revere the next time, the fifth queen was in the front row watching her friend reenact her new favorite part of history.)

“Wow! This is beautiful! Almost an exact replica of the one the Paul Revere wears in my reenactments! Thank you!”

“Well, who do you think got it for you hun?” Dawn also admired the new coat her husband had just been given.

“I- I- I, Cleves?” he guessed. Surely, this was a rather expensive gift, and everyone knew that the red queen had money to spare.

“Nope, wasn’t me.”

“Becky?”

“You wish. I’m not going to encourage your-”

“That’s enough Becky. My daughter is in the room,” Jenna scolded her boisterous friend.

“She won’t encourage his what, Mama?” the little girl in the room stared up at her mother with wide eyes.

“Nothing to worry about hun. Just some adult stuff.” The baker hoped that would be enough. It seemed to work- the girl was back to asking Ogie who he thought gave him the coat.

“Jim?”

“I thought you might like to have it the next time you go on for Revere. That other guy’s coat is huge on you.”

“Thank you Jim!” The elf-man lunged to hug his friend.

“This tie is stunning Jane,” the lanky doctor said confidently.

“How’d you know it was me?” The silver queen was shocked. She didn’t think it was that obvious who she had. She certainly didn’t slip up and tell Jenna either.

“It’s silver.”

“Oh.” In all honesty, the blonde didn’t even realize she had bought a tie in the color that she had been assigned all those years ago. She was just drawn to it.

“Thank you.”

(Jim wore the tie to the second opening night for SiX on broadway many years later. Jane cried when she recognized the tie.)

“Aren’t you going to open your gift?” Cleves asked the third queen expectantly.

“Oh, I guess I just got so... wrapped up in watching everyone else open their gifts!” The punniest queen grinned.

“Just for that, you lose your turn. You go last,” Cleves retorted as she went to open her present.

“Well, I only know one woman who would buy me a designer athletic bag. Thank you Becky!” the red queen acknowledged the rowdy waitress.

“Yeah, yeah. Not a problem. I figured you might like to carry your things in it instead of that small little bag you have.”

“Thank you.”

(Anna of Cleves would use that bag until it ripped, and then she retired it so that she could keep it forever. Becky would be happy to buy her another bag when she needed it.)

“Cleves!” Becky gasped.

“What?”

“These shoes!”

“I’ve seen the shoes you guys wear while you’re waitressing. I read up on these shoes a lot. They’re supposedly really comfortable and they’re stunning. All leather.”

(Becky was more than happy to throw away the ratty pair of shoes she had been wearing since Jenna started working at Joe’s Diner all those years ago and replace them with the shoes Cleves had bought her. And when a new pair showed up at her house a few years later with a note that read: bitchin’ kicks! , well, Becky let out a full-on belly laugh.)

And that left Jane to open her present.

“Well, go on, open it hun,” Jenna encouraged her friend.

Jane was expecting some sort of artwork from the little girl who was no doubt her secret santa. What she wasn’t expecting was a handmade mug with the little girl’s thumbprints in the shape of a heart- under it reading “ Best Aunt”. At the sight of it, the blonde’s eyes welled with tears.

“Thank you Lulu,” she choked out.

“What is it?” Anne asked, curious as to what could elicit such a reaction from her costar.

“It’s a best aunt mug,” Jane whispered.

“Hey, I thought that was me! You little rascal!” both Anna and Becky exclaimed at the same time.

“D-do you like it Aunt Janey?” Lulu stood from her spot in her mother’s lap and resituated herself in the third queen’s, hugging her.

“I absolutely love it, and I love you. It’s perfect. Thank you so much honey.”

(Jane would never use another mug again, nor did she let anyone else in the house use it. It was her mug, and no one dared to touch it.)

After the gift exchange was over, the group settled in to watch a movie, more than happy to spend all of the time in the world together. The youngest member of the group hadn’t strayed from her surrogate aunt’s side, more than happy to snuggle into the warmth that the older woman radiated. It wasn’t long before she was snoring quietly in the arms of her favorite queen.

“You’re all more than welcome to stay the night if you want,” Catherine offered knowing how tired the bunch had become.

“As much as we’d love to,” Jim began before Jenna interrupted.

“It might be easier to have her just sleep here instead of trying to get her into the car and then into bed without her waking up.”

“That’s a fair point. But, all of the gifts are at our house babe.”

“Hey, it’s not a big deal if you guys stay, and it’s not a big deal if you don’t stay. We all know you’re all gonna end up here again in the morning anyway, so it’s totally up to you.” Anne waved a dismissive hand.

“We wouldn't want to impose,” Dawn muffled a yawn.

“We’ve got more than enough room between the living room and the basement, but it’s up to you,” Cathy mumbled, half asleep against Catherine.

“If you guys don’t mind,” Jenna smiled. The six queens all quickly reminded her that it was their idea. “Okay, so Santa’s presents are still at my house, so we’re gonna have to-”

“I’ll go with Jim and get it all together for you, don’t worry Jenna,” Ogie offered.

“I’ll go with them. They need a man to get this job done.” Cal stood and grabbed his coat, the other two men following suit.

“Alright girls, head to bed, Jenna and I can stay up for the boys.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Becky grumbled, picking herself up and heading towards the basement, pulling a half-asleep Dawn with her.

“Goodnight Janey,” the queens all stood and kissed the mother figure of the house on the cheek before retreating to their rooms.

“I better take Lu down-”

“You guys can stay in my room. I’m sure Annie won’t mind a bedmate for the night.”

“I can’t take your room from you.”

“You can. I insist. Lu isn’t going to sleep on one of the couches!”

“But it’s your room.”

“Okay, I do have that pullout in my room. I can sleep on there, and the three of you can have my bed.”

“I’m not taking your bed from you!”

“Well Lu surely isn’t sleeping on that pullout! Not the night before Santa’s coming!”

“Lu can stay with you then. Jim and I will take the couch.”

“But, you’re going to wake up sore.”

“So would you if you slept on it.”

“But you’re my guests.”

“We’re hardly guests at this point.”

“You don’t live here.”

“We might as well.”

“Just take my offer.”

“You’re sleeping in your own bed Seymour. Lu can stay with you, and Jim and I can take the pullout. That’s final,” the brunette turned on her mom voice.

“Damn Hunterson. No need to pull out the mom voice on me!”

“There is a need!”

“Okay, okay!” Jane laughed putting her hands up in mock surrender. “I suppose you win this round. Let’s get her to bed before the Santas arrive.”

The men arrived a while later, promising the two women who had stayed up that they could take care of setting out all the presents.

“Dawn and Becky are downstairs. There’s more than enough room for all of you to stay down there comfortably,” Jane informed them.

“Jane’s been kind enough to share her room with us for the night,” Jenna told her husband. “Lu’s gonna stay with her and we’re gonna stay on the pull-out. Hope that’s alright.”

Jim nodded before instructing the other men on where to put Lulu’s presents.

Although the two women had been told they were more than welcome to go to bed once Jim, Ogie, and Cal arrived back, they stayed and watched them diligently. Satisfied with the display that had the queens’ presents to each other (because of course they all got each other presents on top of their secret santa exchange) as well as the additional presents from the diner gang, everyone set out to bed.

Christmas Day had arrived, and at exactly 5:03 am, Jane Seymour was woken by a small child poking her cheek incessantly.

“Aunt Janey!” she whispered. “It’s Christmas. Do you think Santa came? Do you think Santa knowed I stayed here instead of at my own house?”

“Lu, it’s 5 in the morning. I don’t know if Santa came yet. Why don’t we give him a couple more hours to make sure he knows you’re here and not home?”

“This is like my home!” the little one whisper-shouted, melting the blonde’s heart.

“That’s so sweet of you to say hun. Why don’t we go back to sleep for a little bit though? It’s very early, and you know how your girls like their sleep.”

“Hmm,” Lulu thought this over for a second. “I guess you’re right. Good night Aunt Janey. Merry Christmas, and love you.”

“I love you too little Lu,” the blonde sighed as her surrogate niece snuggled into her side for a few more hours.

Opening presents was about as chaotic as anyone could guess in the house with thirteen people in it. After presents were done, Cal set out to make breakfast for everyone, muttering that if he couldn’t do that, what kind of cook would he be? It didn’t go unnoticed by the writer that he used his new spatula and apron as opposed to one of the spatulas in the queens’ house, the first and only time he ever used the kitchen tool.

“Hey Jenna?” Jane called from her place on the couch. The baker looked over at her friend inquisitively. “I have one more present for you.”

“What? You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Well, maybe it’s not for you, per se. It’s for the little one inside of you.” The third queen stood and walked towards the Christmas tree before almost magically producing one last present from under it.

Jenna opened the present with care and glanced at it before bursting into tears.

A simple onesie that said “ Heart of Gold, Green, Silver, Red, Pink, and Blue” .

“We thought it might be nice to give you for the new baby. We already love him or her so much.”

(When Olivia Pomatter arrived in the world, it was the first onesie the Hunterson-Pomatter duo put their new daughter in. Jane cried.)

#six the musical #six musical #waitress the musical #waitress musical #jane seymour #jenna hunterson #six fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #waitress the musical fanfiction #waitress the musical fanfic

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flydotnet · 3 years

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Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled).

To what extent would go to save someone else's life?

This prompt was always going to be difficult, but hey, I did manage to come up with an interesting solution to it... or, at least, that's why I'd like to think. I originally planned on having Naomi for "I Should Have Been Better" (as I told Doc multiple times, "what better character for it than Naomi?", but the guy is having the last laugh about this one now, that's for sure). Some soul out there will have recognized the title from somewhere and understood what we're heading for because, yes, this entire story was inspired by the fact I wanted to use this semi-obscure reference as a title. You'll see what I mean later. Anyway, this fic was pretty cool to write, even if, again, I suffer from writing too much build-up because I want to explore a universe I'm probably never going to touch ever again. This is starting to grow into a recurring issue with me, it'd seem. Oh well, if it inspires someone's work, then I'm all good with my penchant for copious amounts of worldbuilding.

Also, Alyssa and Naomi's relationship is wonderful and it's a shame I haven't written it before, what the fuck me.

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Androzani

Summary: When faced with the prospect of her newest companion's potential death, Naomi is ready to put everything on the line... even her life.

Fandom: Trauma Center/Team (fantasy AU)

Wordcount: 3K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

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Her shoulders bear the weight of her losses – friends she had to leave behind, people whose death she couldn’t prevent, companions that never were – yet Naomi has kept moving, trying to shove her past behind her anywhere she walks, as if going through purgatory for eternity.

Her reputation has preceded her for decades, by now: the woman dressed in black with silver hair like the pale moonlight, going from place to place. Nobody knows of her true intent, whether she sides with good or evil, with life or death until they discover she is a healer who was banished from her native region due to some sort of catastrophic event long forgotten by history.

How ironic is that someone whose roots got cut off by a guillotine is still alive and roaming this world when, surely, her supposed people have all died from illness, injury or natural causes by now: it has, after all, been a thousand years since the “Corpse Whisperer” got forced into exile over the supposed curse she bore, the curse which spread an illness she still doesn’t have an answer to over towns and villages until it just disappeared with her.

On her travels, she met a lot of people, some of whom travelled with her for a time, some whom she barely got to know.

There was Nathan, a boy who had escaped from a doomsday cult. He was an eager companion, swearing he’d follow her until the end of the world would have she decided so, because she was the first friend he had ever gotten – he died saving her, rather than the other way around, when a spear plunged inside his chest and only came out when his blood had stopped flowing and his skin had turned to clay. She closed his eyes, buried him and marked the grave with white lilac, never to look back again.

There was Ivan, a man barely younger than her supposed age, who wanted to understand her and help her save people with his benevolent magic and overwhelmingly positive intentions. He fought hard against near-death situations, some where she had decided it was better to expect death than survival, but his optimism kept these people alive. She had tot leave him behind after he contracted a lethal disease and he couldn’t keep with her, leaving behind the bitter taste of failure, loneliness and uncertainty. She never went back to where their ways parted, afraid to know the inevitable answer as to his whereabouts.

There was Cassandra, a middle-aged woman with a stern face and an inexorable will. Despite all the hardships she had faced in her life, she had always stood back up, without even displaying any sort of pain. She had grown a reputation for her ruthless methods, being ostracized, and travelled with her so she could mend her ways and heal who she could with the apothecary knowledge she had been blessed with during her youth. She drank her own poison so she wouldn’t have to surrender in the face of certain defeat, plunging herself in an eternal sleep, while Naomi could only watch, wrists and ankles keeping her from acting, until these dissolved and she could avenge her fallen friend. Cassandra’s breath never went out, so Naomi made her a chamber hidden in a deep, dense forest in a hope that, someday, she’d find the antidote Cassandra had spilled on the ground.

There was Eglantine, a girl barely in her teens, who went to follow her because her parents had abandoned her and everybody else thought she was cursed because of her unusually pale skin, hair and eyes, thinking she was a stillborn animated by a malevolent spirit. Beneath her skin was an incredible potency, which she didn’t dare use until she needed to. Her short life ended in a tragic, senseless sacrifice when she rushed into battle and blocked an enemy’s way so Naomi could run away and “get out alive”, as she had screamed before taking an entire group of thieves with her to a certain death.

There have been a lot of them, over the centuries, but none of them have been immortals like her. None of them have healing magic as powerful as hers, none of them can endure so much. All of them have promised her to stay with her until she could settle down again, none of them could ever hold these promises, and it’s fine to her: she’s used to involuntarily broken promises. She’s used to the feeble nature of humans, of the uncursed ones.

She has grown more and more hesitant to accept new companions, over time. She tried to be cold towards them, to use her sombre reputation as a deterring agent – but some people are just in need of misery’s company, even her, and so they stick around until illness, injury, death, love or opportunity split them apart and the cycle continues. Naomi is used to it. She doesn’t even give her name to people anymore: it’s easier for both sides if these companions call them by whatever nickname the rumours about her convey.

The “Corpse Whisperer” is only one facet of her fictional identity, one of her many names and perhaps the least flattering. Over the years, she has accumulated them: “Cursed One”, “Black Healer”, “Reaping Doctor”, “Nameless Widow”, “Lady of the Last Sight”… Everywhere she’s gone, they’ve adopted a new name for her, to the point the name she was given at birth is nothing but lost to the sands of times, like numerous books she’s read, like the names of her fallen companions. So much things pass by your eyes when time doesn’t affect you anymore. Such is her curse, after all.

Even with time, the wounds left by her losses never truly scar. Every death in which she’s had some amount of responsibility weight on her shoulders, even if as time passes, she starts to forget more and more the individuality of her former partners. And, the heavier the luggage gets, the darker she tries to be, the more reclusive she behaves, so someone else doesn’t have to get hurt while following her on her eternal quest to heal others and, maybe, just maybe, finally find the way to end her own life.

Still, despite how much she has cried and screamed already, death continues to affect her when she can see blood on her hands or a cold limb at her feet. Even recently, she got bit in the throat by the death of two parents who had crossed her ways in unfortunate circumstances and she came too late to save them. As they let out their last breath, she met eyes with a curious little girl’s green irises full of life, and that’s when she knew – Naomi would be traveling with someone else once more.

Neither Alyssa nor she had a choice in the matter. The poor girl didn’t have any remaining relatives and the place where she lived was infested by werewolves, the same species that had killed her parents. Naomi couldn’t leave someone as young and frail as a ten-year-old girl suffer in the claws of the wolves on two legs that couldn’t control their animalistic urges. It quickly became her mission to redeem herself from letting two new persons die in front of her eyes by bringing Alyssa to a safe haven where she could have a normal life until Naomi herself found a solution to the lycanthropic problem.

However, and despite having guessed what happened, despite all of her tears and all of her pain, Alyssa has always told Naomi she didn’t hold anything against her, that she did her best when she tried to use her magic to bring back to life the recently deceased. Her smile, which at first was timid and more of a façade, has grown into an earnest one. Every time she sees it, it warms Naomi’s heart, but it reminds her head to remain cool and not to get attached because it’ll end badly for the both of them.

For a while, it was fine to have Alyssa around. They mostly went from village to village, from city to city, and Naomi made sure her protégée wasn’t in contact with the filth and contagion of the sick. Healed bone after healed bone, cured sickness after cured sickness, Naomi found herself enjoying the light-hearted chatters of Alyssa, going from refusing to answer her various questions on the world and herself to replying to them with more and more details.

It was already too late, by that point, but Naomi still liked to believe Alyssa would one day leave on her own terms and her wounds just heal for once. After all, they were only travelling together because Alyssa needed a new home to grow up in and have a chance at a normal life after the atrocious had happened.

However, that delusion has come to an end, as she’s now forced to make the biggest choice in her life, one that could cost her everything. At long last, the taste of death and the melody of the epilogue come back to her, making her feel more alive than ever, but at what price?

Alyssa has been poisoned with what she can only assume to have been a powerful, yet not instantly deadly substance. She missed catching its name when someone told her what was happening to Alyssa, what was causing her the rashes and the fever that keeps going up and up, but it reminds her of something – animantha toxaemia. A beautiful flower whose pollen has killed its fair share of humans, with no real cure known aside from a taxing healing spell, one forbidden not by choice, but by need.

Their meeting with the flower was unfortunate. Alyssa and she were on the run from some unforeseen adversaries and, once they had successfully lost them in the forest, Alyssa got curious about the deep purple beauty of the flower’s petals. Alyssa touched it when she inspected it before Naomi could remove the girl’s fingers from the stem and petals. Both are running away from death. Quite ironic, coming from the woman who was once nicknamed “the Silver Reaper”, but… what matters isn’t her fate, it’s Alyssa’s.

Naomi has managed to get them both out of the forest, but unfortunately, she’s starting to feel the paralysis effects of the flower in her legs, and that’s when she realizes she must have been in contact with a lethal dose of the flower’s poison. One thing the curse hasn’t protected her from is illnesses of this kind, and judging by the fever poor Alyssa has fallen victim to, she doesn’t count on staying alive much longer. She’d have expected herself to be pleasantly surprised by the prospect of finally passing away, since she has seen so much already, and roaming the Earth for about four centuries is starting to take a toll on her spirit – but she has never felt so alive, because danger is a powerful catalyser, and she has a life to save.

A final life, judging by what she needs to pay for what she’s about to do, but a worthy price to pay and perhaps the life that has mattered the most to her throughout her long, elongated life. She’s torn about having to leave Alyssa to her own devices, but they’re in a village, now, and Naomi hopes the inhabitants that took enough pity on them to lend them the small house they’re currently in will help her. She’s still young, barely fourteen, and she doesn’t want Alyssa to struggle again once she’s gone.

There’s no time to question it, however. The toxaemia has four stages, the last being an inexorable rise of internal temperature until the affected person inevitably dies. However, she can’t let that happen, and she has to act quick, because getting the both of them back to a safer haven has taken so long that Alyssa is at least in the third stage and, again, judging from her temperature, is crossing into the last before… before the inevitable happens.

There are numerous times where she wanted to give her life to save another, but never got to do it because the other person died before her eyes before she ever could or because they did it first, leaving her alone again, most of them eternally unaware of her immortality. Now, however, she’s the one who has to do it, because Alyssa isn’t a mage like her, wasn’t born with the ability to cast spells, and she’s someone who deserves to live life at its fullest, unlike her.

Naomi has made her decision the moment she touched the flower and nothing is going to make her go back on her decision – aside from the idea to leave Alyssa alone, but the girl has made some friends in the village due to how kind she is, so at least, Naomi has some hope. If her companions have shown her something, it’s that there still are good people in this world, no matter how many atrocities she’s seen.

Almost three centuries ago, she learnt spells that are now forbidden. One of them, whose original scroll has been burnt in an attempt to silence its deadly power, is the antidote to animantha poisoning. There may have been another way, hidden away in a forgotten script or still being conceived by some hermit mage or witch living in remote woods, but she doesn’t have the time to question it. All she can do, now, is apply the formula as she’s learnt it, hoping her spell memory has exceeded human standards. The curse should have at least given her that, if she was to become the Codex of Magic.

Her last name – the “Codex of Magic”, the true purpose of the curse inflicted on her so many years ago. How ironic, considering she’s lent all of the scripts she’s copied again in the bag she always carries with her, that she dies by the hands of one of the spells she was meant to preserve for prosperity. Even if she survives, she won’t be able to use the spell on herself afterwards in a timely manner, so she hopes Alyssa carries on her will. That’s all she wants.

Ignoring the pain in her limbs and her own rising fever, Naomi gathers her powers in both palms of her hands, summoning all of her healing prowess for one last show. The spell calls for specific incantations, which flow out of her mouth as if she was born to say them at some point – something about summoning the power of hope itself, serving as its vessel for a miracle, giving up one’s life for the sake of another. The spell was named “Hope of the Unending Agape” for a reason, after all, and Naomi doesn’t have anything else to lose.

The amount and intensity of the mana running through her entire body is searing her from the inside as her hands carefully cradle Alyssa on the bed of the house, cupping the girl’s face as the mage hopes it will work as intended. Alyssa must survive, it’s all that matters, she doesn’t care about the price of it all, just give this girl her life back, don’t take her away from the mortal realm so soon, not when she has so much to see and discover, so much to live and smile at.

Hope can take her soul, she doesn’t care, but that flower won’t take away Alyssa’s, she swears on her life. One has lived for too long and the other is too young to pass away.

This spell feels like inflicting agony on oneself, so her vision is starting to give in and so do most of her sense following it. She’s burning on the inside, either from the spell or from the toxaemia, but there’s no way for her to distinguish anymore. What she knows, however, is that Alyssa’s skin is cooling down and her tremors are fading away. This is more than a relief: she’ll survive. Alyssa will see another day and have the life she deserves, sunny and beautiful.

Little by little, frame by frame, Alyssa’s complexion regains its colour, the red stains on her cheeks disappearing. The sweat that was pearling on her skin fades away. Her frowned feature relax and give way to a peaceful expression, as if she had been sleeping all along. It’s a beautiful sight, really.

However, the same can’t be said for Naomi, as a huff of platinum smoke escapes from her lips and she collapses in pain. She has exhausted every cell of her being, or so it feels like, and it’s up to the curse to see if she’s worth saving – she doubts it, because a curse is a curse, and being a benefactor for its host would go against its own nature.

It very much feels like she’s dying, at long last. Her vision is mostly black now, safe for a couple blurry shapes, and most of her senses have already given in: her hearing has been replaced with a sort of slightly disturbed silence, she can’t tell what she’s touching and the only taste in her mouth is that of copper and iron. All she can feel are the tears going down her cheeks and the relief that, at least, someone is getting out of this alive.

Despite technically meeting her end at the hands of a toxic flower, Naomi doesn’t see it this way: she views her demise as the ultimate act to save a life and, as such, doesn’t have the shadow of a regret. Sure, there may have been things she’d have wished to do before she’d die, and her survival is a very unlikely gambit on the curse acting up; but they don’t matter compare to the reasons why she did such a thing, why she took on someone’s deadly pain onto herself.

The only thing she’ll be missing is the warmth of Alyssa’s voice…

When Alyssa wakes up from something that was between a dream and a nightmare, which she can’t remember aside from the magnificent gaze of a solar goddess looking to her eyes, she quickly realizes what she saw in her sleep wasn’t a figment of her imagination – and immediately knows, upon touching long and slender lukewarm hands, she has a task to accomplish to pay back a life-changing favour.

#bad things happen bingo #trauma center #trauma team #naomi kimishima #alyssa breslin #empathic healing #my writing #tw death #angst #bthb

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simptasia · 4 years

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neurodivergence in abc’s lost

i’m gonna be listing off and talking about the canon neurodivergent characters in lost. i won’t be adding characters that i personally headcanon as neurodivergent in some way, what i’m writing here is elaboration upon what has been given to me by the show. please note that none of these people’s conditions or disorders were named in the show, so such diagnoses being named here are me taking that extra step based upon their symptoms

first of all i wanna point out that based on what i’ve seen the show, that the island’s healing powers applies to conditions inflicted upon the mind, not ones inherent to the mind. thats why daniel’s brain damage heals, but people like hurley and locke will always continue to have depression

hugo “hurley” reyes

schizophrenia and depression

our most prominently featured mentally ill character. it might seem bold to label him with schizophrenia when it’s never said that that’s what he has. but during his time on lost, he displays many of the symptoms: paranoia, pathological self loathing, delusions and hallucinations. now, it’s a fictionalized depiction of schizophrenia and that’s probably not even what the writers had in mind but it’s none the less a really, really good and respectful portrayal of it

it would take too long to list off all the times when hurley displays paranoia (heck, it’s easy not to notice how much its a part of his character) and self loathing. delusions? the situations regarding the numbers and his bad luck (canon never ever Proves what hurley believes to be true regarding that stuff)

they did an episode dedicated to hurley having hallucinations. a man named dave who drives him to self destructive behaviour, self hatred and attempted suicide. fun fact: when people with schizophrenia in real life have hallucinations, they tend towards just auditory. hurley gets visual as well as per Rule Of Drama. this is not a bad thing, just a narrative tool

(steering slightly into headcanon for a bit here but i personally ignore the dharma made Hurley Bird they revealed in the epilogue and just take hurley hearing that bird say his name as an auditory hallucination. for two reasons: one, hurley hearing/seeing things that don’t exist is already consistent with his mental state. and two, that bird literally, genuinely did not fucking say hurley)

extra notes

to be clear, in case there's confusion, hurley really does have magical powers. he can talk to dead people. that isn’t a delusion or hallucination. you can understand how confusing and distressing this must be for hurley

he's had a compulsive eating disorder since he was ten due to the pain of his father abandoning him. his struggle with this is well documented

at several points during the show he’s shown to have trouble spelling. he especially confuses his “y(s)” and “ies”. it’s not clear if this is due to poor education or a learning issue. or both, really. it’s safe to assume with him being poor, mexican and mentally ill, that school wasn’t easy for hurley

hurley has unjustifiably lived at mental health institutions on at least two occasions (the first time was against his will, second was volunteer)

john locke

depression

locke suffers from severe self esteem issues, and i know most lost characters do, but i mean to the point of irrational and destructive behaviour. he has an obsession with being deemed special in order to justify his existence. he also suffers jarring mood swings. (he can switch from calm and jovial to angry and defensive at the drop of a hat). when he was wheelchair bound, this threw him into a depression. when he failed to convince anybody to come back to the island, he attempted suicide. he would have gone thru with it too. he will go to extremes to make sure things stay the way he wants them to (killing an innocent woman so they can stay on the island, tying up and drugging boone so he won’t tell anybody about the hatch), and will fall into despair if he fails

also note that the things im saying about locke are not a comment on people with depression. i don’t think all depressed people kill and drug people. those were statements on locke’s character that i believe are a part of his mental state. my point is: he’s emotionally unstable and he tried to kill himself. and i think his extreme need for validation (from people and the universe in general) is especially concerning

to me, this all says to me that locke has clinical depression

locke isn’t as easy as the other people on this list to classify as Canon Neurodivergent but at least to me, i think it’s very obvious. like i feel bad being so vague but like, basically, watch any locke episode

daniel faraday

acquired brain damage, severe memory degradation as well as other neurodivergent behaviours (i’ll go into it)

he’s played by jeremy davies. enough said

okay, jokes aside. at some point in the past daniel and his assistant theresa were involved in some vaguely referred to time based experiments. while she was catatonicized, the accident left daniel severely brain damaged (also daniel spent years doing radioactive experiments without head protection, which would not have helped and indeed that is foreshadowing of this whole debacle)

apparently this left him in a state where he can no longer take care of himself, having been assigned a carer. his most outstanding symptom is that his ability to process short AND long term memory has been impaired

short term: he’s shown to have issues retaining memories from day to day. he wasn’t sure if he had met charles widmore already (he hadn’t). charles lays some exposition on him and when daniel asks why he’s telling him this, charles says, with sureness, that “because by tomorrow you won’t remember this”. counting on that to be an absolute fact seems silly to me but that does seem to the case. again, Rule Of Drama is in play here

long term: he can no longer access memories he formed many years ago, famously the memories he formed with desmond in 1996. all in all, this condition is highly plot convenient. can’t argue with results, really

no, i can keep going, i got more, this is daniel fucking faraday we’re talking about: his ability to remember 3 playing cards has been impaired (note that this is a skill most 4 year olds master), he forgot the secret code the science team were all taught and when he introduces himself to jack there is a long pause, in hindsight implying that daniel forgot his own name

like real life memory conditions, theres varying level to how much he does and doesn’t remember. he’s thankfully not in a 50 first dates situation and doesn’t forget everything day to day. clearly he remembers people if they’re around enough, like during his time on the boat. charlotte, miles, frank, naomi...

upon landing on the island, his memory slowly gets better (considering his condition beforehand, the fact that nobody comments on this is staggering)

when dan is fully healed? i could not say, i could theorize, but such things are nebulous. but still, the times we see dan without his brain damage, he still behaves like a neurodivergent person. just not like he was when he was brain damaged. he stims near constantly, has a tendency to repeat names and words (echolalia) and it’s shown that dan compulsively counts in his head. he counted up to 864 beats, if i remember correctly, which is about 10 minutes of counting in his head. by no stretch of the imagination is that neurotypical behaviour

(im not trying to sound defensive. and i don’t think anybody, anywhere, is arguing that daniel faraday is a neurotypical. unfathomable)

going into headcanon territory again, his ND traits, when not brain damaged, say to me that he’s autistic and/or has OCD and possibly anxiety. thats all theorizing on my part tho. but the fact of the matter is, damage or no, he’s neurodivergent

notes

his apparent need for tactile sensory input is legendary in the lost fandom. in layman’s terms: him pet pet. not just people but objects too. humans, overall, tend to touch things to process input better. many ND people do it more, and it seems daniel is a case of that (i am not making a solid statement on jeremy davies’ neuro state. that’s his business)

he shows an inability to properly process grief

he also shows shocking indifference to his own safety, resulting in reckless behaviour. how much of this is a result of his mental state or his upbringing is up for debate. i think it’s a combo of both

without his brain damage, he appears to have an eidetic memory

danielle rousseau

trauma induced mental illness

pretty self explanatory. the loss of her expedition, husband and daughter, as well as 16 years of loneliness (on THIS island) has resulted in emotional instability for danielle. she’s prone to paranoia, trust issues, irrational behaviour

she’s just not well. she’s right most of the time but she’s not well

libby smith

indeterminate mental state

libby was institutionalized (the same place hurley was sent to) and placed on medication (which seemed like sedatives to me, based on her expressions). in the show it’s not what clear what put her there, but having just done some research, i’ve discovered that Word Of God says that libby became mentally unstable after the death of her husband dave smith. so this is probably another case of trauma induced mental illness. she must have had a pretty extreme episode to cause her to be sent to a place like that. something to think about

but alas, it’s libby, so not much info. moving on

benjamin linus

anti social behaviour disorder (is my best guess)

oof. depictions of mental illness with characters who are immoral are depictions of mental illness nonetheless. i feel almost silly saying this but: ben is not... okay

ben displays issues (at best) with empathy, compassion and morality. how much he cares about other people is highly debatable but one thing that's certain is that he does genuinely love his daughter. everybody else is ????

but the loving alex thing rules out him being a sociopath or having narcissistic personality disorder. and it is genuine because when he loses it with grief, it’s not a performance, because the only audience is us...

he’s a compulsive liar, lying even when it doesn’t benefit him. lying just because. ben is highly unpredictable, which isn’t inherently a neurodivergent thing, but when a person goes from a calm discussion to strangling somebody, all roads point to Uh Oh (i don’t know the technical terms for Uh Oh). many of his outward emotions are performed (the difference between his fake smiles and few real smiles is noticeable). he’s manipulative, he treats people like objects for his benefit/plans, he’s self absorbed, he has zero issues with murder unless it’s a child. he does have some moral standards. but overall, uh, [just gestures at ben]

also ben is repeatedly offended when other people don’t trust him, which is HILARIOUS, but also shows a cognitive dissonance on his part

hmm i need more here, im gonna break out the big guns

that’s some basic info there and doesn’t that line up with ben?

the article goes on to say that people with this can put on superficial charm. that is, behave friendly and “normal” when they have to. which ben is shown to be able to do

and this

“Serious problems with interpersonal relationships are often seen in those with the disorder. Attachments and emotional bonds are weak, and interpersonal relationships often revolve around the manipulation, exploitation, and abuse of others.”

reminds me of his situation with juliet. and locke. and his “friendships” in general

i snipped the wikipedia article for this because unlike the rest i felt,,, underequipped to talk about this sort of thing

ben being mentally unwell is clear enough in canon and i think this disorder is what lines up best with it. please note that ben is capable of change and growth (like people in real life who have such issues) and like the show i’m not gonna paint him 100% evil or irredeemable. i’m just saying what’s true

notes

ben says at one point that he doesn’t dream anymore. it’s highly probably that this is a lie, but if it isn’t, well that's not good. it’d mean his brain isn’t entering into REM sleep properly, which can lead to emotional problems

ben doesn’t blink as much as most people do, something michael emerson did on purpose. this can apply to some neurodivergent people

it’s shown that he was quite nonverbal as a kid. in the flashbacks in “man behind the curtain” little ben barely speaks

honourable mentions

pretty much all the survivors suffer from PTSD due the trauma of the crash

a great deal of the characters suffer from PTSD from trauma in general due to their awful lifes. like, abusive parents, war, loss of loved ones, etc

and i must note that ben, daniel and locke suffering from parental abuse, ranging from emotional to physical, is something to factor into their cases

claire, similar to danielle, also suffered trauma induced mental illness due to the loss of her baby and feeling like she was abandoned

sayid is depicted as dead inside during season 6 due to The Sickness, so thats like a magical form of depression. and one could argue that he already had regular depression beforehand

boone joked about shannon having bulimia. (whether or not it’s true, boone is an asshole) if it’s true, shannon has an eating disorder, which is considered a form of mental illness. espech one so self image based

self harm

self harm is not an inherent part of mental illness but such concepts are often linked so i felt i should mention some of these, it’ll be quick

hurley’s aforementioned eating disorder

charlie takes heroin as a form of self harm (that isn’t a theory on my part, it’s clear as day that charlie started taking it because his sense of self worth was so low that the drugs felt like the only option)

locke, hurley, (both as mentioned above), jack, desmond, michael and richard have all attempted/nearly commited suicide

so what can we conclude from this? well that's up to you, really. that i love lost a fuck ton? that the actors and writing in lost is amazing? that all the neurodivergent based depth got saved for the boys? yeah

but i wanna conclude with this: a part of what makes lost really special to me is that these people i’ve talked out here? they’ve suffered, and oh boy it was tasty suffering, but all of them, yes even libby, were more than suffering

these people have nuance. one way or another, these people (to varying degrees) were happy at times. silly. funny. angry. opinionated. they loved. they were loved. they lived and breathed as human beings. that means a lot to me

lost is a story of broken people given a second chance. take that as you will

thank you for your time

#lost #charthann #missinglost #(i don't wanna lose this so i tagged you guys)#i've made a list like this before but i wanna go into detail #and before i knew it i made an incredible essay #lost headcanons #most of this is based on canon but as i said there is extrapolation at play #and i mention some headcanons along the way when i felt it was needed #gosh this became a whole Thing #i hope y'all enjoy it!#and this isn't counting ppl i headcanon as ND #like jack being autistic or charlie having HPD #i could go into that too

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zoryany · 4 years

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Starry Gets Personal

hello, friends and followers! this blog is primarily for fandom, writing, and the odd miscellaneous sort of post, and I don’t get super personal here very often, but recent events have spurred me to open up about a couple aspects of my mental health, specifically my experiences as someone who has been diagnosed with both Borderline Personality Disorder and Bipolar II.

I will go into a bit more detail, below the cut, because this is very personal and I know not everybody wants to read a big long post about mental health, but my tl;dr version is basically that... my mental illnesses have caused me to do and say some pretty awful shit. they’ve caused me to make some decisions that I absolutely regret. and these things that I’ve said and done have had very real and very harmful consequences for myself and others. but I am a person who is capable of growth. of recognizing when I might be slipping up. and sometimes things go sour anyways. but I do not wish to be defined by my mental illness. nobody should be.

now, if you wish to keep scrolling, by all means, I hope your day is wonderful. if you’re interested in some more details, click on... potential cw for discussion of self-harm, suicidality, abuse and substance use (all fairly mild, no explicit details)

now, I’m not interested in publicly airing dirty laundry. there are certain boundaries I will not cross in the telling of this tale. I have permission to share things about myself, but I have no interest in smearing anyone else, so details will be omitted or altered where possible, and vague when not.

I’ve had some difficulties with friendships before. some have been because of petty, young girl “pal” bullying, some because we’ve just fallen out of touch, and some because there’s a perception that I’ve somehow changed. it can take me some time to open up and be more vulnerable with people. while I try to be open, I’m much more likely to offer up a shoulder to cry on than to ask for one myself. then, as I get more comfortable with people, I will ask for a bit more support. and often, all I really need is a bit of reassurance, a sign that there is care, and I’m pretty good at self-soothing from there. I can have incredibly violent mood swings, at times, but they die down fairly easily, as is common in borderline. in addition, I have never self-harmed. I have never been actively suicidal, beyond the odd time of “wow, not existing right now would be really rad, wouldn’t it?” I am incredibly lucky, in this regard, because the statistics regarding borderline, bipolar, self-harm, hospitalization and suicide are incredibly grim. but that is not me, and because I am taking medication and regularly seeing my therapist, I am actively making sure it will never be me.

in addition to BPD and bipolar, I have ADHD. these things combined mean rejection and abandonment sting real bad. to the point of a straight up meltdown / tantrum bad. and I am willing to call some of my episodes meltdowns or tantrums. this is not true for all people with these conditions, but for me, that’s kinda what it feels like. these intense feelings just need to flare up and burn themselves out for a bit and then I’m usually fine within a few minutes, hours or, in the most extreme cases, days. these emotional episodes are not always related to abandonment or rejection, but they can be, and they can lead to some pretty nasty things. I can dissociate. I can enter a state where I genuinely don’t recognize what I’m saying. and I like to compare them to fire that has been inadvertently fueled far more than expected. the fire cannot help that it flares. it cannot help that it lashed out and was stronger than anyone meant it to be. that does not heal the burns it caused, though.

earlier this year, I had a pretty... rough falling out with a friend. for the duration of our friendship, both my borderline and bipolar were undiagnosed. I had received a depression diagnosis before and borderline was suspected at a couple of points, but neither diagnosis was confirmed or treated until after the friendship ended. while I was able to make do when things were generally good, the lack of a diagnosis or treatment for either borderline or bipolar made things extremely difficult when things got bad.

the two of us were online friends for nearly two years, and we had gotten really close. spoke every day, hung out most nights, shared a lot of very personal things with one another. it felt really good to have that kind of connection with someone. because it felt so good in these early stages, and because I was undiagnosed at the time, the friendship developed into one that didn’t really have clear boundaries.

it is important in a relationship with a person who has BPD to establish boundaries. I have been determined to be much more careful about these boundaries since receiving my diagnosis, because I cannot place that responsibility solely on the other person in any sort of relationship. I have also seen the consequences of carrying forth with a relationship that does not have boundaries, and I do not wish to subject myself or anyone else to that level of pain.

now, again, I will not go into a great level of detail, but I would like to discuss the last week or so of this friendship.

I began to feel that this friend was pulling away from me. I also just so happened to be PMSing, which can amplify symptoms of my mental illnesses. this friend wished to take a bit of a break. I have never had a friend who has actively asked for a break before. it felt like confirmation that they were pulling away. I did not react well. I cannot recall all of the details. I dissociated through a lot of it. but I do remember that I said some horrendous things both over text chat and voice call. things that were manipulative. things that were abusive. I lashed out, I hurt, sought to make my pain felt, was angry...

these things really hurt this former friend. so much so that they did end up leading to them calling it quits. they no longer felt safe in the relationship. that led to even more lashing out on my end, even more hurt, and it was all around unpleasant, to put it mildly. there is a very real pain that can spring up with BPD, and it doesn’t always isolate itself to the person who has the disorder.

I have not spoken to this friend since we called it quits. one week later, to the day, I saw a psychiatrist and received my diagnoses: Borderline Personality Disorder, Bipolar II, ADHD and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I am taking medication. I am seeing a therapist. I have grown as a person since this experience and gained new tools to handle extreme emotional situations.

there are still times when impulsivity will flare up and I’ll spend more money than I should on things I don’t need or over-indulge in substances at a gathering. there are still times when my emotions get the best of me. I still occasionally fall into hypomanic episodes and become someone who may not quite be myself. these are things that have placed strain on me, my family and my friends. but I am working on them. continually.

I do not think that people with mental illness, disorders or disabilities should be exempt from critique of their actions. I know that my actions have consequences, and I have seen them multiple times. what I refuse to believe, however, is that I am a fundamentally terrible, awful, abusive person because of these actions. coming to terms with my diagnoses and my symptoms has been a journey, and while I do regret a lot of things I have done or said over the years and wish I could change countless outcomes, all I can do is to continue to press forward and strive to be the best me I can be.

thank you for making it this far. I hope that if any of this resonated with you, whether you share a diagnosis with me or have other similar experiences, then you may feel some level of reassurance. and I hope you all understand me just a little bit better. all love to you!

Starry

#starry things #I feel it's important to be open about mental health #so I'm going to share this #and I understand if this is a bit heavy #i just wanted to share my story #borderline personality disorder #bipolar #bipolar ii #adhd #bpd #mental health #mental health things #mental illness #personal

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mooifyourecows · 4 years

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I know this might sound really strange and I hope you don’t feel pressured to answer this but I was wondering if you would be able to give some insight on how you come up with such wonderful and ‘solid’ ideas/concepts for your stories ? I struggle with continuing a story after thinking of an idea (basically expanding it and working key points around them: e.g the problem, climax, etc) so I’d love to hear some advice from you as you write so eloquently. Again, don’t feel stressed to answer! 💗

Sure, sure, let’s see here.

Story development is all about expansion.

Constant expansion

You get your first little idea, then build onto it left and right and up and down until

First and foremost though, you need time.

It takes time to come up with stories from beginning to end.

And i dont want any writer, especially those just starting out, to think that taking a long time to develop a story is a bad thing. Nobody comes up with a big and amazing plot in a day.

Hell, that doesn’t even happen in a week.

Some ideas don’t wrap up for years.

Some ideas never really end at all.

It might be frustrating when you get an idea but... just... can’t... quite... expand on it. There are times I get a story idea and I sit on it for weeks before something clicks like “ah, what if I did this???”

Be kind to yourself when you can’t immediately come up with some immense and incredible plot. Give yourself time.

In that time, expand.

Get an idea. Something small. And then build onto it. Everybody has different methods to do this. For me, I just kinda ask myself a million questions that I then work to get the answers to.

Who are the characters?

Have they met yet? If so, how? If not, how and when will they meet?

How do they feel about the other person? Is there love yet? If so, when did it start? How did it start? If there’s no love yet, when will it appear? How? What kind of love is it? Is it mutual? From the beginning? Or is one slower than the other? Pining? A sudden confession? Neither feel like they have a chance so they keep it to themselves?

What’s the vibe I’m going for? The mood? Do I want lots of sadboi feelings or do I want it to be ridiculous and comedic? A mix between the two?

What’s the drama? What’s the problem? What misunderstanding can I throw in to tip the entire story upside down?

What are some scenes that I have floating around in my head? Where can I put them? How far into the story would that happen? How will it affect the rest of the story?

What emotional baggage do the characters have? How does that baggage translate into their actions? What is their family life like? What about their relationships with their friends? Exes?

When and Where and How can I make one (or both) of them get jealous? It’s a staple, it needs to happen. Moo’s rules. But when? Where? How? Why?

What about the little things? What little connections do they have? Tender moments they share? How does one get the other to laugh? How does one make the other feel safe?

When do they kiss? And how? Is it a surprise? Does one instigate and then run away? Freak out about it? Do they both go in for the kill in a moment of passion? Do they play it off the next day as something that didn’t happen? Or does it happen at a moment where all their emotions have been laid bare?

What do they say? What things do they tell each other? What do they decide not to say to each other? What secrets do they keep? How do those secrets play a bigger role?

How do their friends view them? And their parents? And their pets? How do these other characters affect and manipulate the story or the main characters? How do they fit into this world? What is going on with them behind the scenes? Do they have lives? Do they have a presence outside of the main characters? Who are they? What do they do? What do they think? How do they feel?

Who are these people? Why do they do the things they do? What mental illness do they have? What childhood trauma? What made them the person they are today? What will make them the person they are tomorrow? How important are these things to them? How important is anything to them?

What do they do? What is the Big Thing? How do they react to the Big Thing? How do they get through it? Move on from it? Do they move on at all?

How does it all connect together?

What do I want to accomplish by the end of this story? What is the theme I want to convey? How do I want my readers to feel? Do I want them to laugh? Do I want them to cry? Do I want them to relate to the characters? To learn something new?

What do I want?

How do the things I want integrate into the characters? How do I push my agenda, whatever that is this time, through this story?

How can I go further?

How can I go deeper?

How can I make this story important?

This probably all sounds so tedious and “tear my hair out” boring but... it’s basically how I wiggle my way through a plot.

It doesn’t happen all at once! I work through these questions as they pop into my head, sometimes over days, or weeks, or months or... well... I’m still asking and answering them for all my ongoing fics at the moment. Sometimes I have to ask the same ones over and over and over again. Especially the “What’s the drama?” one. That question gets asked every day of my life, tbh.

Stories aren’t built by some magic talent or secret skill. They’re built by perseverance and a lot of “what, why, how, when, where?” It’s okay to take forever to come up with even the bare bones of a plot. It’s alright to think of something and then two weeks later decide “nah, I don’t like that anymore” and scrap it for something else. It’s okay to get inspiration from outside sources! A song, a movie, a comedian’s stand-up special on Netflix... absorb any little hint of an idea you get. Take note of it somewhere, a notebook or your phone or whatever. Look back over your notes later, wonder if any of them have potential to be something bigger.

Ask yourself a million questions. It’s okay if more of the answers wind up not being relevant to the story in the end. Hey, at least you have more background ideas holstered and ready to go in case you do come up with a way to use them!

Planning a story is a messy and sometimes frustrating process. It takes forever and every once in a while you’ll hit a wall and will have to stop and reevaluate everything you thought before.

It’s alright! Just never stop thinking! Never stop daydreaming and drawing inspiration from the world around you!

Never stop asking questions.

Never stop looking for answers.

Eventually, I know you’ll pull it all together.

Most importantly though, give yourself time. Be kind. You’re doing great! Work hard to make something that makes you happy and everything else will fall into place.

I know this advice is so vague and probably unhelpful, but I’m rooting for you! Good luck! 🖤

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jenoptimist · 4 years

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and even though your paths have diverged, you are never without him because you keep him safe in your heart

ミ✭ WARNING: major character death (i’m sorry!)

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“here is the deepest secret that nobody knows/i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)”

- i carry your heart with me, e.e cummings

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

“So, Red-bean,” Your oldest and dearest friend smirks, and you suppose that to the other members on your team and the civilians who stuck around to witness the situation pan out, that he wants to appear menacing. Perhaps he does to them but you know that were you to remove the mask that covers the top half of his face, dark lens shielding his eyes, that you would find his eyes riddled with mirth–it is his voice that gives him away, just like it always does, the way it differs from its usual bored tone. Not that anyone else would notice since it is nothing but a miniscule change in his pitch. “We meet again.”

Half of you wants to break your façade right then and there because only he would try to recreate a stereotypical villain entry. You want to double over in laughter and shove him like you used to in the past; when the two of you would spend time together in the scorching heat of summer doing stupid stuff without an inch of care. The other half of you knows better, knows that you have to keep up your charade of disliking him because you are a superhero–and what superhero gets along with a villain unless they are on the verge of going rogue?

The logical side wins, of course, and so you feed into the little scene he created a few moments ago, when he dropped from somewhere in the sky, landing gracefully on his feet and jutting his chin out as he looked up, locking his eyes on you without an room for hesitation. It was an unspoken thing, that it would always be you that he was after. You know it, your team knows it, hell, even the entire media outlet knows it. What makes it better is that he knows you all know. And while everyone else interprets it like a game of cat and mouse between the two of you, you secretly enjoy it–even as your team continuously frets into your earpiece. They mean well but you know this man, know him like the back of your hand and he will not hurt you. At least not purposely with ill intentions.

Instead of the usual gut wrenching feeling of dread you feel against other villains when you are in combat, he makes you feel nimble, a little sensual, because the two of you fight as if you are dancing with one another. There are no dangerous jabs or explosive swings, only feather light movements and encouragement deeply hidden within your gazes.

The smirk is mirrored on you as you twist your long daggers expertly for show, knowing how the public love when it glints in the sunlight, its smooth blade and inscription visible from lengthy distances. The heavy weight is comforting in your hands as you hold them out in front of you, preparing yourself for the oncoming set of motions from your long time opponent.

“Hit me with your best shot, Arial.”

Although sweat lightly trickled down your back, you barely noticed as you urged your mom to move faster, small hand encased in hers as the two of you walked passed the pond of ducks. The playground that was hidden in the middle of the local park was finally in sight, in fact you could just about make out the silhouette of the monkey bars and the slide that stood beside it in between the people who were strolling peacefully in both directions.

The trip to the playground was on a whim because despite your mom’s frequent requests, you refused to take a nap, too much restless energy built up in your system from the sweet treats you were given.

The hand that you were clutching onto released yours, allowing you to run free. Without a backwards glance you raced over to the jungle gym, knowing that your mom would be seated at one of the benches with the other parents and that she wouldn’t be bored because the adults always multi-tasked eyeing their children and gossiping with ease.

When the jungle gym got boring, you slowly made your way down so that you could inspect the next thing you would go to; there was a short line by the swing set, the tubes were filled with dozens of kids and although the seesaw were free, you had nobody to accompany you. The spring riders, however, were not in use except for one boy who sat on the shark shaped one. From where you stood you noticed that he seemed glum, his head dipped as he barely swung back and forth on his chosen playground equipment. Frowning, you made your way over to him, avoiding the kids who chased one another as they screamed.

“Hey,” you greeted cheerfully as you took a seat on the duck shaped spring rider that was near him. The boy said nothing, just looked up and eyed you curiously with his dark eyes. Something in you wilted but you chose not to give up, instead you began to babble incessantly, taking big gulps of air whenever you could. The wariness that he emitted seemed to melt away as you continued to chatter, slowly swinging back and forth on the spring rider.

“My name’s y/n! Do you want to go on the seesaw?” You asked, finally ending your endless chatter, beaming at him as you batted your lashes.

The boy responded with a nod of his head, a slow smile forming on his face. “Yeah, sure.”

It was on that sunny Tuesday afternoon that you first met and laid eyes on Huang Renjun, the short boy who at first was quiet and wary but eventually broke his resolve. Renjun didn’t talk much that day, just nodded at you as you kept rambling about various thing. As you continued to grow together he grew out of his shell more and more. It was amazing to think that although the two of you were stark contrasts of each other, he would eventually become your favorite person.

At the young age of fifteen, every teen is forced to decide whether or not they want to enter the academy for superheros. And it was no different for you and Renjun. The two of you talked nonstop about the choice you had to make whenever you could; as you walked home together from school, during lunch time, during sleepovers and even when you worked to complete your homework.

Renjun was a stellar student, the best in your year, and you knew that it was because of all the hard work he put in. You, on the other hand, were an average student with your head in the clouds–which he nagged you about for days on end, reasoning that if you put more effort you would excel as much as he did. Renjun has always believed in you the most.

“But I want to be a superhero.” You stated as he finished yet another speech about why you should put more effort in school. Between the two of you, it was easy to tell that you were the one who wanted to become a superhero, you had always had a fascination with them after all.

With confidence and finality, you added, “I think I’m going to go for it.”

Your best friend remained quiet, mulling over your statement. It was the first time you told him, or anybody really, that you wanted to pursue being a superhero. Not everybody could become one. There were horrendous rumors that circulated the media and local citizens about the trials that each person faced before they were accepted in the one and only superhero academy in your province. But you knew you had to try. If you failed you promised yourself that you would continue your academic studies seriously, content that you tried to become a superhero in the first place.

“Is that what you want?” Renjun asked, after minutes of dead silence that seemed to stretch for days on end, as he slowly met your gaze. “What you really, really want?” You couldn’t confirm his question fast enough, nodding your head so fast that it was dizzying while you continuously repeated affirmatives. “Alright,” he said, nodding his head decisively, “I’ll do it with you.”

“What?! But you’re so good at school!” You continued your exclamation with various reasons why he shouldn’t apply for the academy with you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to. It was actually quite the opposite–you would have loved if he joined you so that you two could fight crime and keep people safe together as a team. But you knew that he was passionate about his studies, knew that one day he wanted to win a Noble Prize for something groundbreaking. He wouldn’t be able to obtain that dream if he chose to become a superhero. It just wouldn’t be possible because there wouldn’t be any time for him to spare.

When your short words of protest ended, he shrugged simply at you. “But I want to,” he side-eyed you as he kicked at the ground, “besides, it’s you and me against the world.” He claimed, as easy as breathing. A lump formed in your throat at that, feeling warmth blossom inside your heart. He said it as if there were no question about it because it was a fact: you weren’t you without Renjun and vice versa.

“Yeah,” you replied, feeling breathless, like you were floating in the air and he was the one who was grounding you, “always.” You promised just as freely, smiling at him so wide your cheeks hurt when he smiled fondly at your response.

Three weeks later you found out that the trials were as difficult as the rumors. In fact, they were probably even more difficult. They stretched on for a week but those seven days were torture. Each day you returned home extremely exhausted, both physically and mentally, but you persevered. Renjun remained by your side all the way through, the two of you passing each other words of encouragement each time you reached the steps of the academy during the mornings of the trials.

Your relentless determination paid off, however, resulting in the acceptance of your application. What had your heart smiling, however, was that your best friend had been accepted too, so you wouldn’t be apart for the remainder of your teenage years. Not that anything would keep you separated from him, you’d fight tooth and nail to ensure your best friend kept in contact with you if that ever happened.

The two of you had endless conversations of excitement during your celebratory sleepover. It was during that sleepover that you whispered sweet promises to each other in the dark, underneath the duvet that you shared as you remained safely hidden from the world. They were promises that you swore to keep forever, hooking your pinkies with one another as you stifled your giggles. Promises that entailed sticking together forever and never giving up on each other.

Anxiousness thrummed inside of you with each step you took, Renjun closely at your side as always. The other new students seemed just as nervous but of course your best friend remained calm about the whole situation. Renjun had always been good at that, was always the person who grounded you whenever you were feeling the way that you were. He soothed your nervousness with pretty words of optimism as he gently took your hand in his, lead you up the stairs and past the tall, iron gates.

The academy building towered over you somewhat menacingly. It was made of brick that you sure was protected by some sort of technology, with large windows that were randomly positioned. This building that seemed to reach the sky would be your home for the next six years, and you were already aching with the feeling of homesickness. Of course you were permitted to go home to visit your parents, however that was only during the weekend. You would miss your mom’s hugs and your dad’s cooking but you had no time to muse about what you would miss, not when Renjun squeezed your hand and pointedly stared at the front of the crowd.

When the two of you were separated due to receiving timetables he remained close to you whenever he could, staying silent as you raved about your new friends; Minhyung’s versatility, Jisung and Donghyuck’s energy, Jeno and Chenle’s smartness, and Jaemin’s openmindedness. You felt extremely lucky that you were invited into their group during orientation, and felt inclined to tell your best friend as much. Whenever you would tell him anectdotes involving your new friends, he always soured instantly. Which was unlike him but you figured that maybe he was finding it difficult to make new friends so when you noticed a shift in his demeanor, you switched topics.

Instead what you did was introduce him to your friends. You paid him no mind when he remained silent in their presence, boring holes into their heads, because you knew that your best friend wasn’t exactly the best when meeting new people. However he was taking it to the next level and it was starting to tear you up inside. Renjun’s temper was growing shorter and shorter as the weeks passed and he would lash out at random times. You never asked because you knew what he was like and waited until he was comfortable with telling you but his behavior was spiraling for the worse. Finally, when he said something incredibly hurtful towards Donghyuck, you snapped.

“Give us a minute.” You said as you stood up, pointedly staring at Renjun before you left the cafeteria. You didn’t have to look behind you to see if he followed, his footsteps echoing yours. When you reached a private section in the gardens, you spun around. “Renjun, what is going on?”

Although he said nothing, you noticed the way he became rigid. You wouldn’t have caught it you weren’t staring at him as intensely as you were. It was definitely because you had called him by his actual name instead of the nickname you had given him eleven years ago, back when you were both four.

“Nothing. It’s stupid, I’m being stupid.” Renjun grumbled in reply, still refusing to meet your burning stare.

“No, you want to know what’s stupid?” You retorted, pent up frustration finally seeping into your bones. “What’s stupid is how you’ve been acting towards my friends! I’m so embarrassed Renjun, I kept singing your praises to them and they were so excited to meet you, but you’ve been treating them so horribly!” You watched his mouth curl into a deep frown and sighed when he continued to remain mute, “all I wanted was for you guys to get along, why are you being difficult? What aren’t you telling me? We can sort it out together if you want.” When he still said nothing you added, “whatever it is, I promise I won’t think it’s stupid.”

Renjun was thinking it out, you could see it in his face with how he kept his expression firm. It was the same expression his face held back then whenever the two of you were working out math problems together, or whenever you questioned him on what he thought about different topics–like aliens and time travel.

“Okay but remember, you promised.” When he stuck out his pinky, you didn’t hesitate to hook it with your own and lifted your thumb for him to connect his with. “It’s just”–he jammed his hands inside his pockets and avoided your patient expression–“it’s been you and me. Always. There’s never been anybody else.” He paused to chance a glance at you before averting his eyes back to the grass again. “But now you have all these friends and I”–his expression twisted–“don’t want to lose you. It’s not that I don’t want you to make friends but I just feel left out and unwanted. You’re with them all the time for class and- And,” he groaned loudly, swiping a hand down his face. “I don’t know. This is stupid, forget I said anything.”

“Your feelings aren’t stupid.” You assured him confidently. How could you have been so insensitive? Of course he was bound to think that. Nobody else was in the picture before, it was always you and Renjun. Renjun and you. Your parents teased you all the time saying, ‘Renjun this, Renjun that. It’s always about Renjun with you!’. Hell, you promised to stick together for eternity not that long ago. And you supposed that if you were in his shoes, you would be the same. Maybe you wouldn’t act like he would, but you would definitely feel the same.

You frowned. “I never meant to make you feel left out and unwanted and I’m sorry that I did. I’ll make it up to you,” he peered at you curiously, interest written in his eyes, “this weekend is just for you and me. We can watch movies, go to the arcade, whatever you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course!”

“Okay,” it looked like there was a weight lifted from him, a darkness disappearing from his eyes. “I’m sorry for being mean to them. I shouldn’t have been. I’ll try harder.”

You beamed at him so wide you cheeks hurt, grabbing his arm and leading the two of you back to the cafeteria. When the door was within seeing distance, you stopped in your tracks. Your best friend made a noise of curiosity beside you when you let go of his hand and stood in front of him, looking directly in the eye so that he wouldn’t be mistaken.

“Arial,” it was the nickname you had given to him, the one you always called him because he loved Moomin and his species was an arial hippo–four year old Renjun talked nonstop about his love for the show back then. There was a ghost of a smile etched onto his face when you said it, an eyebrow arched curiously as he waited for you to continue.

“No matter how many friends I make or however many of them I get close to just remember,” you stuck out your chin, heart drumming wildly, “you’re my number one. And you’ll always be my number one.”

The effect of your words were instantaneous. Renjun stood straighter, preening, and beamed at you. “You and me against the world, Red-bean.” That was the nickname he had appointed you with because you were obsessed with red-bean buns and could devour an unhealthy amount in one sitting.

“Always.” You pledged sincerely, copying his smile, “now lets go back inside.”

In hindsight, you should have seen it coming. There were signs to these things, you supposed, but you were still completely blindsided. It wasn’t that Renjun strayed from you. No, it was the way his eyes burned, the way his smile hardened, and the way he clenched his fists and grit his teeth. The two of you were three years into the academy, only had one year left and everything seemed just fine.

If you were asked to pinpoint when his change started to begin, you would probably answer that it was just after one of the exercises the professors put you through, involving combat with villains who were trying to prove their reform by aiding the students in your school at training. They were under the watchful eye of your professors, of course, but were encouraged to engage as if you were in an actual situation.

Frankly, you weren’t sure what triggered the slow change. Renjun never spoke about it, in fact, he seemed normal to you. Despite what circulated among the students, you never listened to them because you thought that they were rumors. Whatever your best friend was experiencing, surely he would have told you, right?

Right?

Wrong.

Instead you found yourself running around the building and its surrounding area with the students in your year, forced to track him as he hastily fled the building. It was thirty versus one and the professors had explicitly informed the lot of you via intercom that whoever caught him would gain a prize. They didn’t disclose what it was and truthfully, you thought that they were lying. It felt like a test to you, to see who would come up on top. Either that or they wanted to turn the students against each other by using an unknown prize as the motivation.

The last thought had you staggering, slowing down the pace that you were running. If you were going to be honest, on the somewhat slim chance you were the one who happened to find your best friend, he was super smart and tricky after all and if he wanted someone to find him, he would go to them. You didn’t know what you were going to do if he ultimately decided that he wanted to make his whereabouts known. On one hand, you didn’t want to turn him in because you feared the potential consequences that he would face but on the other, you didn’t want to let him go venture the world without you. Selfish as it was, you didn’t care. You wanted to stay by his side as long as possible.

It was easy for someone to grab your hand and tug you to whatever direction they pleased because you were lost in thought. The minute you were pulled into a nearby hedge, your reflexes took over and within seconds your other hand was aiming for a punch.

“Red-bean,” Renjun greeted in a whisper, his hand stopping your fist before it reached him cheek. The spin that you did to face him was so quick you were surprised that you didn’t get dizzy. “Look, I can’t stay for long but I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to you.”

Before you could even begin to stop yourself, you responded with, “so don’t. Take me with you.” When he didn’t respond, you stared at him imploringly as you followed up with a desperate, “please.”

Renjun sighed as he brushed the hair away from your eyes. “I can’t take your dream away from you. You’ve been talking about superheroes since we were so young, it wasn’t even a surprise when you told me that you wanted to be one.”

The way he said it was like he was stating a fact, like how the sun was a star and how the moon affected the tides. He was right, of course. You used to talk all day about how cool and amazing you thought superheroes were, chatting the ear off of your best friend. The little arguments that followed about which superhero was the best never phased you because you knew that Renjun was only trying to get a rise out of you. But, now, faced with the thought of him leaving you, you didn’t care about how long you have raved about superheroes and how often you had secretly dreamed of becoming one.

“But,” your voice cracked awfully, the lock holding in your emotions breaking. “My dream is nothing without you in it by my side.” There was a sound of voices somewhere behind you in the distance and you knew that the moment you two were sharing was limited. “Arial, please.”

The voices were beginning to close in and your heart dropped into you stomach when the reply that you received was, “I’m so sorry, y/n.” Renjun’s voice was barely a whisper at that point. His sad eyes were tracing your face as if he were trying to commit it to memory. “But I can’t drag you down with me, you deserve better.” Before you could even blink, he kissed you on the forehead, lightly shoved you and then broke out into a sprint towards a wall that he managed to scale in record time.

“We’ll see each other again.” Your best friend promised as he held out his pinky towards him. When you mimicked his motion, vision blurring with tears, the two of you completed the necessary action. With one last look at you, he fled off into the darkness just as two frantic students approached you, their words going over your head as you continued to stare at where Renjun stood only moments ago. They barely took notice of you, ignoring you in favor of searching for the boy that you already knew was gone.

When you cried on the way back to your room, arms wound tightly yourself in attempt to self-soothe, nobody noticed. And if you cried yourself to sleep that night, the next night and the nights to come, that was nobody else’s goddamn business but your own.

The years that followed, you received letters that were never signed but you recognized the neat penmanship instantly. The first time you tore one open, your hands trembled and it brought on a fresh set of tears as you read it under your duvet, using your phone for light so that you wouldn’t get into trouble. It slowly became easier after that, when the letters entailed Renjun’s wellbeing and long encouragements. The letters were what motivated you to work harder so that you would, indeed, meet again as he promised. The weekly letters never stopped; not when you graduated, not when you moved from headquarter to headquarter. You kept them in a box in your parents house, underneath one of the floorboards in your room.

You are positive that if you didn’t obtain any letters, you would have given up. Without them, you would not be where you are now: one of the most favored superheroes by the citizens.

“You’re losing your touch,” you tease as you swiftly jerk to dodge his hit. “Are you getting old?”

“Am I getting old?” Renjun parrots, false offense coloring his tone while he jumps back gracefully to avoid one of your daggers. “The only thing old here is your outfit,” he kicks your forearm unexpectedly, causing you to startle and accidentally throw it somewhere on your right. “When will you be assigned a new one?”

A mock gasp of horror escapes you and it does nothing but make him laugh, the sound like music to your ears as you continue to scuffle with him. It had been nearing two week before he decided to show up unannounced at one of the missions you were involved in. It was something he did regularly, so that nobody would grow suspicious every time you two engaged in combat that would ultimately result in him still being alive and free by the end of it.

You allow him to advance towards you, your slow fight coming to an end, knowing that it will end as it always does: the two of you will throw some narrowly missed hits here and there, endure a cut or two, and then, he will gain an advantage that you will somehow overcome and then he’ll escape.

It’s at that stage in your fight already, where he is securing the upperhand. Renjun is advancing towards you, mouth curled in a smirk that you know is supposed to look menacing. At this point, both of your daggers are no longer within your reach as they were both forced out of your grip. How was he going to attack you this time? Last time, he had you pinned, winking in a way that had you smiling goofily before you gathered the strength to roll the two of you over so that you would be above him. The reason he got away that time was because everyone was distracted by their own opponents, no crowd in sight because of the weapons they brought with them.

There’s a vague noise from somewhere around you and you’re sure that it’s from someone on your team hitting their target with one of their fancy gadgets, too focused on how your best friend takes long strides towards you confidently. Except.

Except–

Suddenly Renjun sways forward slightly, something you would not have noticed if you weren’t watching him like you are. Then he’s staggering. Staggering, swaying, staggering, swaying, staggering until his legs don’t, no, can’t support him anymore. There’s a troubled look on his face as he falls, eyes trained on you. The gut wrenching scream that echoes around the area doesn’t sound like you one bit. But it is. You know it is because you felt the way it clawed up your throat. The evidence is how your throat feels raw.

In an instant you run to him and turn him around so that he’s facing you. With the way you are holding him in your arms, you can feel how his back is soaked and you don’t have to pull back to know that your hand would be coated in a dark red. His breath comes out in short puffs, struggling to breathe, with a wince displayed on his face and you feel like your whole world is collapsing. The tears that are leaving you are landing on his shoulder in waves.

“Hey,” Renjun says lowly, his hand coming up to rest on your wet cheek. You mimic his action and place your trembling hand on top of his, eyes searching his. “Where’s your pretty smile?” He closes his eyes for a moment and you are so, so afraid he won’t open them again. “Y’know I love it when you smile.”

“Can’t smile,” is your response. “Not when y-you’re-”

He is dying and you know both know it. Some childish part of you is telling you that if you do not say it out loud, it will not come true. A loud sob escapes you at the thought. Your best friend is dying in your arms and you can’t even do anything about it.

“Please? For me?” He begs as he opens his eyes. They map your face in a constant, sweeping motion. Like he is trying to commit it to memory. “Hurts,” he moans, squeezing his eyes shut, “hurts so bad.”

“No, no, no! Please don’t close your eyes, Arial! I’m smiling, see?” The smile that you etch onto your face is a pathetic one but you keep it there anyway because it is what he wants. “See? Look? I’m smiling.”

“That’s my y/n.” Renjun smiles weakly, the expression sits horribly on him and it only makes you cry harder even though you are still forcing your smile. Something heavy drops in your stomach when you realize that his breathing is slowing down. “You ‘n’ me against the world, right Red-bean?

“Always, Arial. Always.” You confirm without hesititation.

“Good,” he winces again, looking worse than a few moments ago. “‘m sorry I can’t be by your side forever.” His head his lolling slightly now, his blinks longer than they were previously. “I’ll watch over you.”

“You always have.” You manage to choke out.

“Yeah,” he smiles at you again but this time it’s brighter, like he doesn’t want you to remember his last expression at you as pained. “Aways will.” He’s barely blinking now, breathing shallowly. “Love you.”

“I love you too.” You bawl and he manages to sweep his gaze over your feeble smile one more time before his eyes shut. You know they won’t open again, his hold on your cheek going limp and this.

This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening.

“No!” You yell, sobbing hysterically, “please! Renjun please!” There is the sound of footsteps somewhere near you but all you can do is shake at your best friend as you frantically say, “I can’t do this without you! Who am I supposed to fight against now? Renjun please! Please, please, please.” You beg over and over again. “Renjun!” You cry.

A hand is placed on your shoulder and you snarl, white hot anger instantly replacing your melancholy, letting go of your best friend’s hand in favor of blindly attacking the intruder. Whoever did this needs to pay. Not now, you know, not while you still need to arrange a funeral. Not while you send condolences to his parents and grieve. With this in mind you halt your movements and seize your best friend in your arms again, cradling him gently as you stand and run. The others watch you, frozen in their places, making it easy for you to escape.

You chance a glance at Renjun’s peaceful face as you allow your legs to guide you away from the city as quick as possible. Someone will pay, alright, and they will regret what they have done to you. Regret who they have taken away from you. Nothing will stop you until they do.

You swear it.

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