#I made a suicide joke to someone I met in year 11 and they were worried about me and I was just so confused

[cherryy-slushy]

Okay here me out, Yandereish reeader and JD where they are like really close and kind of flirty and then JD meets Veronica and Reader loses the absolute plot and you can choose what they do (but unhinged shit xo)-💃 (that’s my new emoji for requests 😜)

Omg I’m so here for this!!!

So I’m gonna let you, reader, choose a JD for this because I’m not sure which one the requester wanted 😘

(UPDATE: IM FUCKING STOKED! IM WRITING THIS LITTLE NOTE ON THE 25TH OF APRIL IM NOT SURE WHEN ITS GONNA BE FINISHED BUT WHILE IM WRITING THIS ITS LITERALLY LIKE 12 HOURS UNTIL IM GOING TO SEE HEATHERS IN DUBLIN ON THE 26TH! IM SO FUCKING STOKED!! WISH ME LUCK![if I get any photos with cast I’ll post them under the story but I’m scribbling my face out 😘 I don’t want any of my friends seeing this 👍)

I AM DAMAGED

*first person pov*

I’ve known Jason for a while now. We met in elementary and our dads are business partners. We basically spend every last second together. So when we found out we were moving again we weren’t too upset. I mean, yeah, I made friends. Jason however, not so much. I was sad to leave them but I’ll have JD with me.

*3rd person pov*

Y/N started to unload a moving truck outside her new house.

“Y/N? Where are you”, her dad shouted.

“Outside, dad!”, she shouted back.

“Ah, there you are. The Deans will be here shortly. I’ll give you a hand with those”, says her dad.

“Thanks, dad”, she smiled.

*time skip: 20 mins*

*knock knock*

Y/N goes to answer the door.

“That’s the Deans kiddo!”, her dad lightly shouts.

She opens the door and is greeted to Big Bud and Jason.

“Hi Y/N/N, your dad in?”, Bud says.

“Yep. Kitchen. Down the hall”, she says with a small grin.

Bud steps into the house and down the hall.

“Hey! Rory! How are ya?”, Bud says. It’s the last thing she hears before they close the door.

“Wanna small tour?”, Y/N turns to JD.

“I’m down, m’lady”, he says jokingly, bowing down to Y/N and sticking his hand out for her to grab.

“Why let’s go, kind sir”, she replies, grabbing his open hand and leading him into the house.

“Living room”, she says pointing into the room. “Hallway”, she walks up the stairs, JD trailing behind, still holding her hand. “Bathroom”, they walk towards another door. “My room, dads room and Thomas’ room”, she said, pointing to each door as they walk by.

Thomas is Y/Ns younger brother. He’s about 6 years younger. She’s 17, he’s 11.

“Here, follow me”, she smirks, grabbing his hand and pulling him to her bedroom.

“Look, window goes onto the kitchen roof. We should sneak out sometime”, she grins.

“I’m so down”, JD says with joking sternness.

“So”, she sighs plopping onto the bed. “First day of school tomorrow”

“Yep, dreading it. Westerburg high. I’ve heard some rumours”, he groaned.

“Oh yeah? Did you hear the one about the 2 dudes who are practically date rapists?”, she groans back.

“Nope. Heard about the heathers. 3 of them. All called heather. They’re, apparently, absolute bitches,” he complained.

“Yippee! Goodie gum drops”, she says with sarcastic excitement.

“Wanna ride in on the motorcycle?”, he asks, plopping down next to me.

“As long as you don’t kill me, sure”, she laughs.

They stay quite for a minute. Y/N turns to look at him. He’s already looking at her. She smiles awkwardly.

“Welp, i better go wake up Thomas”, she says while standing up.

“Oh yeah, I’ll come with ya”, Jason says following her.

Time skip (September 9th)

“GET UP KIDS”, Rory, Y/Ns dad yells.

“Ughhh”, Y/N groans while stretching to get up. “Fuck this shit I don’t wanna go to school”, she mumbles, dragging on the ‘ol’ at the end of ‘school’.

She starts to get dressed, brushes her hair, washes her face and brushes her teeth, and finally, gets breakfast.

“Someone seems happy to go to school”, Rory says, laughing at Y/N.

“Dont even start, dad. I’m already suicidal and I haven’t even gotten there yet”, she groans.

“Goodmorning!!”, Thomas says, skipping down the hall.

“Now, that, that’s excitement”, Y/N laughs grabbing her toast from the toaster.

Rory laughs. “Hey Tom, excited for your first day?”

“Hell yeah! I already met a boy who lives on this street whose in my class! He said I can hang out with him and his friends!”, he says excitedly.

“Time?”, Y/N asks.

“Quarter to eight, you better get heading”, Rory says, turning to look at Y/N.

“I will. When Jason gets here anyways. I’m going with him today”, She says, checking the window for JD.

“Alright, go wait in the living room”, Rory says.

She goes and sits in the living room and starts checking to make sure she has everything.

*Knock knock*

“JDS HERE! BYE DAD. BYE TOM. LOVE YOU BOTH”, Y/N yells, getting replies of “love you too” and “have a good day honey” in return.

“You ready to go?”, Jason asks, as Y/N opens the front door.

“Yep, let’s motor”, She says heading to the motorcycle.

She holds on to Jason’s torso as the fly through the little streets of Sherwood, until they arrive at the school.

“Come on, give me your hand”, JD says holding his hand out to Y/N.

She takes in a deep breath and takes Jason’s hand as they start to walk into the school.

She feels like everyone’s staring at her, but in reality, nobody is.

They go to the main office.

“Ah hello, you two must be Jason Dean and Y/N L/N, it’s lovely to meet you both”, the secretary looks down to their hands, “awh, are you two dating? That’s adorable”, she smiles.

“No, we’re just really close friends”, Jason laughed. Y/N laughed too.

“Awh what a shame, you would look lovely together. Anyways, your first class is the same. Both in Ms Flemings english”, she says while handing the pair their timetables.

They both mutter a ‘thanks’ and wish the secretary a good day and start to walk to class.

“She was funny”, Y/N says.

“Hah, yeah, she was”, Jason replies.

They walk into the class.

They’re early.

Ms Fleming is already there. Y/N and Jason introduce themselves.

“Ah! I’ve heard about new students! It’s so amazing to meet you two!”, she says happily.

‘She’s gonna be fun’, Y/N thinks.

“Sadly guys, there is a seating plan. So, you are gonna be away from each other. Jason you’ll be sitting here”, she says walking down to a seat near the middle in the 3rd row. “And Y/N you’ll be here”, she says walking to another seat a bit further back, in the 5th row, at the very edge, next to a window.

“Dont worry, I put you next to our best, nicest students. Jason, your next to Veronica, and Y/N your next to Jamie”, she says, clapping her hands together.

The bell goes off and in seconds the class starts to fill with students.

Y/N and Jason take their seats.

*Y/Ns first person POV*

After I sit down a boy takes the seat next to me.

That must be jamie

He looks at me weirdly, clearly trying to see if he’s seen me before.

“Hey”, he says.

“Oh, hi”, I say back returning a small smile.

“You new here?”, he asks.

“Yup, just came today”, I reply.

“Awh cool, you want me to help you around?”, he asks.

I completely forget about Jason and say: “yeah, that’ll be nice. I don’t really have anyone to help me around anyways”

“Ah! We’re gonna be best friends. I already know”, he smiles.

I smiled back.

He’s really nice

I look over towards Jason and see him talking to the girl next to him. That must be Veronica.

She’s really pretty….

WOW CALM DOWN Y/N HES YOUR BEST FRIEND HELLO?? YOU DO NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON JD STOP.

Jamie and I talk and laugh for a bit resulting in a few dirty flares from JD.

After class, Jamie and I walk out and I see Jason running up behind us.

I feel his arm wrap around me. “Hey”, he whispered into my ear. Wow.

“Oh, JD, hi! This is Jamie”, I said, smiling and pointing at Jamie.

“Hm”, Jason says, giving him that look.

“Well, hello to you too”, Jamie says with mock anger.

*time skip to lunch*

JD and I didn’t have the same classes after English. I had math with Jamie though, and Veronica was in my class. She kept glaring at me? It was very strange.

“Hey hey hey”, Jason says walking over to me. “Good first part of the day?”, he asked.

“Not to shabby. What about you?”

“The works”, he says.

“Hey, slushies after school today? On me”, he asks. “I’m down”, I reply, smiling.

“Hello Jason Dean”, I look up and see Veronica Sawyer smiling down at JD.

“Greetings and salutations”, He smirks.

I mentally cringed.

“I must say you’re very good in English”, she says sitting down next to him.

OKAY HELLO? WE WERE HAVING A CONVERSATION, BITCH.

“The extreme always seems to make an impression”, he somehow smirks even more.

“You busy after school”, she asks.

I want to shout at her saying he has plans with me. But I don’t.

“Nope, none”, he says.

What.

I sigh, not loud enough for him to hear.

I look around to see if I could go anywhere else. I see Jamie smiling at me, he sees i de him and waves me over.

Fuck it.

I get up and walk over to him. He’s with one other girl. She seems nice.

“Y/NNNN!”, Jamie yells.

“Hey”, I say, placing my bag down next to Jamie. “Y/N, this is Carrie, Carrie this is Y/N”, Jamie smiles.

“Hi, nice to meet you”, I say to Carrie. “Nice to meet you too! Welcome to Westerburg!”, she smiles.

I smile back at her.

I think this place is gonna change things..

[A/N] SO I POSTED THIS A MONTH AFTER HEATHERS… BUT I MET JACOB FOWLER, BILLY BOWMAN AND VERITY THOMPSON AHHHHHH

This will definitely have a part 2 btw! I needed to upload something so.. PART 1!!!

#heathers #heathers 1989 #heathers the musical #tumblr #veronica sawyer #heather mcnamara #jamie muscato #jason dean x you #carrie hope fletcher #christian slater #jason dean #jason dean x reader

[bobwess]

CW: 9/11

Let's preface this with: there are many people whose voices mean more about this. My story is a mild one, and just one of so many, and I'm not really sure why I'm writing it, but here I am.

CW: 9/11, death, suicide

I used to sit by the windows in the towers when I went to work with my Dad sometimes. There were a couple people who brought their kids every now and again during the summers. I used to think it was really cool that we were higher than all the helicopters that went by.

My dad was transferred out of there at the end of August 2001. He would have been there. Above the crash.

I was 9 years old when it happened. I was in my 4th grade classroom when it happened. It was the very beginning of the school day. We started class at 9am normally, and we were all sort of antsy because our teacher wasn't there. Which had never happened before. She came in maybe fifteen minutes late, crying. She told us something terrible happened but she wasn't allowed to say what.

Then she didn't teach us anything. We were told to read quietly for a little over an hour and then the vice principle came in and told us that we were going outside for extra recess. (Found out later it was after the South Tower fell but before the North.) The other classes didn't know anything was wrong, they were just excited for surprise recess. Our class was freaking out a bit because "something terrible happened", adults were crying, the teachers were all huddled together, and students were getting called to the office to go home left and right.

I was surprised they didn't send us home early for a while then, but later I figured out that we were too close. I think too many families knew someone and parents needed time to figure out what to do about it. Make arrangements for their kids to go somewhere while they handled things.

My parents both met me at the bus. My parents never came to the bus stop to get me, and my dad was supposed to be at work. They told me the twin towers were gone, and I made a joke about it (and I got yelled at.) I didn't know what "gone" meant yet.

Then my parents made me watch the news. For hours I watched footage of people dying, I watched news channels talk about how little we knew, and were there going to be more attacks? I listened to my dad talk about the people he knew, and try to figure out which of them were still alive. I didn't know many of them well. We heard about the initial emergency responders setting up base camp at the base of the towers, and then get killed for having done so.

I was young enough a lot of it went over my head, but sitting there for hours, watching the footage played over and over again, getting new angles when the news channels got them, seeing the people deciding to jump rather than burn. My friend's parents who were firefighters and EMTs up here going down to help fill the gaps left by losing so many of their responders at once.

It was chaos. No one felt safe. No one knew what to do. Not for months. Then it was all prep for war and freedom fries and other miscellaneous nonsense.

So many people I know lost someone. So many people I know saw it first hand. So many people I sort of knew died. At the time I didn't get it. It was too big, and it felt too fake, and I hadn't been to a funeral since I was 4. Death was a foreign concept to me then. Reserved for movies, which this felt like because it was on TV.

Over the next few months we were taught a lot about it. About how the country worked. About what this meant. The later stuff, the war stuff, obviously was a fair bit of misinformation. But there was something about learning about this tragedy first hand while it was happening and being sorted out as a kid. Really stuck with me.

I don't really have a point, I just wanted to talk about it I guess. I don't talk to Matt about this, he has his own worse story, so I don't really have anywhere else to just... talk. So. Thank you for listening.

(And for those of you like me who have anxiety about being taken the wrong way for "liking" a not-positive post, I know what you mean by liking it, don't worry.)

[blueikeproductions]

Kind of a timeline of events I had in mind with the Heathers AU. JD and Dan met originally at Hawkins. Their adventures are kept vague, when asked about it, JD says you just “had to be there”. At that point, JD had let his guard down and did seem to form some sort of connection with Dan in their adventure. Before Dan moved (and Dan wasn’t even aware he WAS going to move at that point), he gifted JD a Transformers toy. Specifically Fangry. JD was confused it didn’t have a head and was at first annoyed Dan seemed to view him as a perpetually angry Decepticon, until Dan elaborated. He brings up Wilder, the Japanese version of the character, a teenage delinquent who eventually becomes an Autobot. Dan had put an Autobot logo on the toy over the Decepticon logo, and explained how Wilder reminded him of JD, and that the toy was a gift and a reminder not to loose his head. (The toy’s head was in a compartment but the point was still being made). JD didn’t fully understand but was touched someone gave him a gift. The next day JD was floored to learn Dan had moved from Hawkins, and felt betrayed. Not getting why at the time, he still kept the Fangry toy, it was tucked away in his trenchcoat. By sheer coincidence a couple years later the two found each other at Sherwood.

JD awkwardly accepting a hug from Dan who was overjoyed to see a familiar face. “I didn’t know we were on a hugging basis…”

Reluctantly JD agrees to hang out with Dan after school, partially won over that it’d be at a Snappy Snack/7-11 combo. There’s a gag where JD is trying to remember Dan’s name and blurts out Dustin, only to correct himself remembering Dustin was the geek with weird teeth.

The two seem to be getting along and JD does feel good, he is still weighed down by abandonment and the other things that have piled up, and isn’t fully being as friendly, but Dan just cheerfully chalks it up to some new reputation and doesn’t take it seriously.

On top of Veronica also approaching him, JD starts having a lot of conflicted feelings only compounded more by the Heathers and jocks being what they are to Veronica and Dan and himself. Made worse when Dan is suddenly hanging out with Kurt and Ram, not noticing the two boys had started to change because of Dan’s influence.

Prior to this, JD noticed Kurt and Ram picking on Dan, but didn’t notice Dan handling it well. When it looked like it was going to escalate into a fight, JD rushes in, not understanding what he’s doing and whales on them. So to see Dan making friends with his tormentors was something he couldn’t process, and fearing he was being abandoned again, Veronica breaking up with him at that point also, it all caused him to snap.

In the skirmish in the boiler room, JD misplaces his gun, and accidentally whips out Fangry holding it like a gun in Veronica and Dan’s faces… Until he pauses and looks at the toy and finally gets what Dan meant before, collapsing muttering “Wilder lost his head…”

Symbolically the Autobot sticker had started to peel off revealing the Decepticon one underneath, and he gingerly smooths the Autobot sticker back on.

Like in the movie and musical, JD straps the bomb on to himself in an attempted suicide, recognizing he did have friends but admits his damage prevented him from seeing what was in front of him. To his shock, Dan, Kurt and Ram rip off the bomb and kick it into the sky where it safely detonates. When asked why the other kids say to effect “high school sucks, sure, but we don’t need it to get any suckier.”

There are kids that still die obviously, one of the Heathers and a replacement kid for the jocks. JD did plan on killing Kurt and Ram but hesitated because of Dan being there, and threw all his anger on the other kid because he harassed Veronica.

I considered Betty Finn being a victim also, sort of a dark joke at her expense because of her minimal role in the original movie, and being erased in the musical. The bit here is like the Heathers predicted, Betty was put into a position to be popular and abandoned everyone in pursuit of it, reforming a new Heather trio to her own detriment.

Oh in this version, JD would also loose his dad prior to him trying to blow up the school. His dad, who is still a pretty big dick like in the movie and musical, dies in demolition job that goes awry, and JD feels no remorse going “Well it was bound to happen eventually.” Having nothing left to loose, he goes for the gusto. When the dust settles though, he does realize he has no place to actually go, the unsympathetic landlord threw him out of the apartment, so Dan offers to let him stay with him for awhile until something could be worked out. “Just keep the gun away from my brother, he’s starting to get into things now that he’s crawling around.”

“When did you get a brother?”

“Technically I’ll be getting another brother if you’re up for it!”

“….!” -hugs Dan-

“Oh I didn’t know we were on a hugging basis!”

“Shut up.” -continues to hug-

Kurt: -playfully- Gaaaaaay~ -gets elbowed by Ram and Veronica-

Kurt: …ok I deserved that…

Anyway it would end with JD on the mend❤️‍🩹, sort of sidestepping the murders in a comical fashion.

Dan: So it’s a happy ending? Veronica: Eeeeeehhhhhh happy enough.

#heathers #heathers fanfic #jd heathers #heathers the musical #veronica sawyer #heathers headcanons #jason dean #heathers fanart #blueike #blueike productions

[blodeuweddschild]

Thinking back the friendship group I had in secondary school probably wasn’t good for me

#WARNING WARNING #self harm suicide in the tags #NOTHING TO BE CONCERNED ABOUT THOUGH IM OK #but like we were all suicidal to varying degrees and a lot of them self harmed way before I did #and it probably influenced my sh #not saying they caused it but it cemented it as an already constant fact in my life ya know #like one day I went into school and my friend told that my ex who was now just my friend #had cut himself so deep that it wouldn’t stop bleeding and he had to cauterise it himself with a lighter #we were just like oh that’s not good and kinda went on with our day because sh was so like normal to us #if one of us said we were suicidal we would all just be like yeah #we spoke about how we would do it #and constantly went on abt a ‘jokey’ plan on how we would do it as a group #but like I didn’t realise that it wasn’t normal lmao #we all just said it sometimes and none of us gave a shit and none of us have it a second thought #cause we were all dealing with the same bullshit #it didn’t occur to me that it was concerning to other people who weren’t in my main group of friends #I made a suicide joke to someone I met in year 11 and they were worried about me and I was just so confused #cause that’s what me and my mates did all the time #like it’s not good that I’ve isolated myself from nearly everyone #but maybe it’s a good thing I’m not talking to them as much #maybe it’s a good thing for all of us that we’ve separated #I just #it’s weird to think about #it was just normality to us #tbf it still is to me #it’s crazy to me that some people aren’t suicidal #I couldn’t even imagine living like that #but uh yeah I kinda went off #I’m just having thoughts rn

[myhauntedsalem]

13 True Horror Stories from the Psychiatric Ward that Will Give You the Creeps

Death, illness and tragedy have long been part of the history of insane asylums, and for as long as they have existed, so too have the scary stories associated with them. From haunted hospitals to sadistic doctors and nurses, psychiatric wards have been the inspiration for many of our favorite horror movies and books. Yet, the true stories told by the psych ward workers below far surpass any horrors that we might have seen at the cinema or read in a book.

Without further ado, here are thirteen of some of the creepiest psych ward stories on the internet that have been shared by health care professionals.

1. Holding her own Eyes

My mom told me this story from her time at a neuropsychiatric ward while she was in grad school. She was making her routine room checks and happened upon the most horrific scene I’ve ever heard.

This was during the night shift, and generally, all the patients’ bedroom doors should be closed. So my mom turned a corner and noticed an open door. She saw a staff member’s legs on the floor, halfway out the doorway.

When she looked into the room, she saw the patient, a woman with a severe postpartum psychiatric disorder, who had just gouged both of her own eyes out with her bare hands. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding her eyes in her hands.

The first staff member to witness the scene, who was now lying face down on the floor, had a heart attack when he first witnessed the woman while he was making his rounds.

My mom screamed for help and frantically tried to perform CPR on the staff member. All the while, the woman just sat rather calmly, holding her own eyes.

2. The Saw

I work as a psychotherapist in a hospital system. My definition of creepy is probably quite a bit different from other medical professionals.

The one that got to me the most was a patient who came to us after attempting suicide by sawing both his arms off at the forearm with a table saw. His arms were reattached, fairly successfully too, with only limited impairments in mobility. All I could think was how bad it would have to be to live in his head that sawing his arms off seemed better than that.

He has since completed suicide.

3. Jane?

We had a young lady in our custody with quite a few issues. We’ll call her Jane. Jane’s first night at our facility staff doing a bed check found Jane in a puddle of blood. Turns out Jane had been slicing the skin around her shin with her finger nails and was pulling her skin up her leg, essentially de-gloving her calf.

Jane also had a ritual she performed every night before bed. While in her room she would run between walls in her room touching them in a crucifix pattern. After doing this for a few hours she would sit on her bed and go to sleep. This particular night Jane was frantic in her pace, practically running between walls. Our night staff observed the entire interaction and reported Jane screaming late into the night. When the staff went to check on Jane she reported Jane standing in the doorway smiling. The staff asked what was wrong and Jane replied, “what makes you think you are speaking to Jane?”

4. The Vampire

My mom worked in mental institutions in her younger years (and actually worked at a large, well-known asylum before it was shut down.)

There was one woman there that thought she was a vampire of sorts. She was only allowed out one hour a day, and they had to use safety precautions. She had already attacked and killed at least one hospital worker before these were enacted.

When my Mom asked about her, it was revealed that she had killed at least two of her children, wounded another as well as her husband because she had some sort of physical condition called Porphyria, which apparently made her crave blood.

By the time that they discovered there was something physically wrong with her, she already had lost her mind from guilt and grief.

5. The Spitter

I’m not a psychologist but my friend is. She told me about a patient of hers who was HIV positive and a paranoid schizophrenic. He thought that the nurses who worked at the hospital he was in were trying to kill him, so he would frequently bite his tongue, and spit HIV positive blood into their faces/mouths. When they had to come into contact with him, they were required to wear full masks and gloves.

6. The Only One

I once knew a woman who had spent part of her residency at a psychiatric hospital for people with severe mental conditions. Apparently, the grounds had a lovely, enclosed greenhouse. One day, one of their schizophrenic patients was sitting on a bench, smoking a cigarette, as a heron frantically flew around. It had found its way in and, not being able to escape, it was smashing into the large panes of glass. The man just sat there watching.

Finally, my counselor asked him if the bird was bothering him and he kind of sighed and said, “Thank god, I thought I was the only one seeing that.”

7. Family Photographs

My sister is the director of a psychiatric hospital. There was recently a lady there who would cut her arms, legs and torso open and place photographs of her family under her skin.

8. Under the Bed

Once, a fellow female patient told me she found writings under her bed. They were just old, small wooden bed frames with hard mattresses that would make all kinds of noises when you rolled over, but I still wondered what exactly she was doing lying under her bed to find these writings.

When she first told me, I thought it was a joke. But sure enough, one day during group we managed to sneak away, and she showed me. Indeed, there were stories written under her bed. After that, we had everyone check under their own beds, and there was more writing under every single bed.

They were stories of patients who had stayed here before, or ways they were planning on killing themselves, or who the good and bad nurses were. It creeped me out.

9. Time of Death

Well, my mother was a nurse that specialized in geriatrics, and she worked for several hospice hospitals for many years. She often described situations at her work with several of the patients. She would say that each person tends to have a very similar “checklist” that they follow right before death. This checklist often ended in a very similar way.

They would get caught talking to someone that wasn’t there. When asked who they (otherwise lucid people) were talking to, they would describe an individual who was already dead. When asked what they were talking about, they would say that their relative wanted to know if they were ready to move on. A pretty common response would be, “Yeah, he/she said that she will take me tomorrow at 3:00.” Well, it would often happen that they would die at the exact time their relatives quoted.

10. The Test Subject

I had an hour-long conversion with a delusional guy who was confined to a mental health facility, and who was probably smarter than I am. Lots of these folks believe that somebody – often the CIA – is either beaming thoughts into their heads, or has implanted a microchip in their brains for this purpose. This guy was offering a very thoughtful argument as to why such claims should not be so quickly dismissed.

“It’s precisely because such delusions are so common that mental patients make the best test subjects,” he said. There he was, confined and protected, constantly observed, his health and behavior documented, and there is zero chance that anyone would ever take his concerns seriously. How else would you test and improve such technology? Does the government not have a strong motivation and a plausible ability to create such a device?

“You can see I’m not irrational,” the man said. “I’m just straight-up telling you that they are doing this to me. I know just how unbelievable it sounds, and yet, here I am.”

11. The Boy who Loved Knives

As a tech in psych years ago, there was a 7-year-old kid sent to the floor because the mom didn’t know what to do with him. Sadly, common thing to happen, even if the kids don’t have psych issues. Anyway, the mom was shaking and crying, and they had to take the kid into another room. She was genuinely afraid of her own son. She had suspected something was wrong when she kept finding mutilated animals in the backyard, but never heard or saw coyotes or anything around. The neighbors smaller pets started disappearing. The boy had an obsession with knives, hiding them around the house. Denying anything when the mom confronted him. Then when the two started getting into arguments, he would get really violent and hit her, push her down and kick her, threaten to kill her. On multiple occasions she woke up in the middle of the night with him standing beside her bed, staring her in the face. She put extra locks on her bedroom door to feel safe while she slept. The last straw was when she lifted up his mattress and found 50+ knives of all shapes and sizes under there. So she brought him to us.

I remember talking to him, treating him like he was just any other kid that came through. He seemed remarkably normal, until you spoke directly to him. He had this way of looking right through you, or maybe like he didn’t see you at all while you were speaking.

He would respond like a robot, like he was just saying words because that’s what we wanted to hear. And he would always put on this creepy, dead-looking smile. Like all mouth and no eye involvement in the smile. Especially when he would get away with something, like taking another kid’s markers and they couldn’t figure it out. Still gives me chills laying here thinking about him.

I believe I met a 7-year-old psychopath.

12. The New Mom

I was a pharmacy technician at a hospital with a psych ward for some time. We would have to go around with a cart and dispense the patients’ medications, and being a 5’2″ girl, a security guard or male nurse would accompany me, just as a precaution. I never had any real issues other than the occasional death grip onto my arm or manic outbursts, but there was one boy who was entirely different.

His chart said he was nine and he had pale skin, dark hair, and huge bright, green eyes. He always greeted me in the most polite way, asked how I was doing, and always found something different to compliment me on every time. He was extremely well-spoken and mature for his age, so I began looking forward to seeing him, as normal small talk is definitely cherished in that setting. If he saw me outside of his room in the halls, he made sure to say hello and always called me “Miss Jones” or “ma’am.”

One day, a couple of our female nurses saw me pause to chat with him in the hallway, and waved me over to ask if I was out of my mind. Apparently, when he was in kindergarten, he grew an intense attachment to his young female teacher.

This escalated to the point of him calling her “Mom” and leaving notes for her about how he wished he were her son. He had a normal home-life with both parents, and the teacher tried to explain to him that she couldn’t be his mom because that would hurt his real mother’s feelings, and that she already had that job covered.

So, he went home and, killed his own mother in her sleep by cutting her throat, so his teacher could be his mom. The female staff had a general rule of not interacting with him excessively to prevent any kind of attachment from forming.

13. Bugs

Nothing I can say can possibly describe the year I worked in Psychiatric Intensive Care. Creepy isn’t the thing that comes to mind when I think back on it…more heartbreaking and horrifying. But creepiness was a part of it. Especially evening and night shifts, naturally.

There is always something disturbing about watching someone while they hallucinate. You can tell it is 100% real to them, and something about that makes you believe it, on some level. A lot of stories end with, “and of course, I had to look over my shoulder to make sure”. You see the emotions it brings out.

There was a woman that came in and sat down across the table from me for her admission interview. She had bandages all over her arms and scotch tape over her mouth and ears. She looked very uncomfortable and wouldn’t really sit still. When the nurse would ask her a question, she would peel the corner of the tape back and answer, then stick the tape back on really fast.

We eventually found out that she saw and felt bugs crawling all over her, and they were trying to get inside her body. The tape was to keep the bugs out. The bandages were because some bugs got in and she had to dig them out. She couldn’t sit still because she felt the bugs all over her even while we sat and talked. The worst part was, she had some idea that it was her mind playing tricks on her. Can you imagine going through your life, feeling like someone is continuously dumping buckets of cockroaches on your head, feeling like they’re all over you and getting inside of you to the point that you’re digging chunks out of your flesh in a panic, all while knowing intellectually that none of it is real?

#13 True Horror Stories from the Psychiatric Ward that Will Give You the Creeps #shared stories #paranormal #ghost and spirits #ghost and hauntings #haunted salem #myhauntedsalem

[angelswithcigarettes]

“Tiny nose”

Summary: Morgan has a girlfriend. He wouldn't if he would know how she treats Spencer.

Prompt: "I can't stand you" [https://pin.it/6WY9CoD]

Warnings: Abuse, Suicide Attempt

Relevant Tags: Autistic Spencer Reid

Word Count:11295

Chapter:11/11

Ao3:

First Chapter:

Hotch can't say he has every witnessed two people forming a friendship as fast and as strong as Reid and Morgan.

From Spencer's first day on they are inseparable and he likes to think it is because Morgan didn't make a big deal out of him. Out of the kid that grew up as always the smartest one in the room, that grew up blowing peoples mind and at the same time doing the opposite. Having people judge him. Not understanding him but Morgan met him, and not in a disrespectful way, just didn't give a shit what his title says and the rest - he learned. He did everything he always does and when Spencer showed him he was uncomfortable he changed his ways and by now,years later, they play in each others cards without missing a beat.

Spencer is kneeling in the entrance area of Morgan's new house project, cuddling Clooney who had jumped in his lap, licking his face. Morgan had told him he would spend his weekend here and that Spencer can step by if he wants too and Spencer had been bored all morning, until the boredom turned into nervousness and he needed to do something.

"Pretty boy is that you?" He hears him calling from somewhere in the back of the house,but Spencer doesn't answer and just continues cuddling the dog,feeling the warm spread through his body when he lays his head on his tight, looking to to him. His black fur glancing in the sun light shining through the window. "Only one man can keep this dog this comfortable besides me." Morgan crouches down in front of him, only in Jean's and his boots having lost his shirt over the morning. "You okay?" Carefully he patted Clooney too and waited for an answer but quickly realized that Spencer wasn't going to talk to him. "Why don't you take him to the backyard or for a walk? He was bored all day long." Spencer agrees grabbing the leashe and then wrapping it around his knuckles multiple times before pressing his fingers around it. "He won't run away,the two of you always come back together."

Over the years Morgan had found out how much Clooney calms Spencer down. It wasn't untypical for Spencer to snow in and just cuddle with the dog or needing help from Morgan and he doesn't mind one bit.

What he didn't expect was his girlfriend to show up while Spencer and Clooney are out but shortly she was hanging around his neck while they stumble down the hall and pretty quickly they were enjoying themselves pretty good while Spencer comes back and plays with Clooney in the backyard. "You have a guest" Denise says out of breath, looking out of the window.

"I know." He continues and then she stops him again.

"You know?"

"Yes it's Spencer."

"Who is Spencer?"

"Let's maybe not talk about him right now?" By the time they are done, Spencer is still throwing balls while talking to the dog over anything that comes to his mind. "You can help me with the kitchen."

"Do you not want to introduce us?" She asks looking out of the doors leading to the backyard.

"He is busy."

"At your house?" Morgan starts walking into the kitchen.

"Yeah, he doesn't bother anyone here does he?"

"No I am just surprised."

"If that is what surprises you about him, you should get prepared for what that man can do with his mind."

"How do you know him?"

"We work together." Morgan goes back to fixing the sink while Denise is not much of a help just sitting on the old kitchen counter talking to him until Spencer comes in, his cheeks red from the sun and Clooney panting from the heat. "There you are, let me get you two water." The man motions to Clooney to follow him while Spencer stays frozen in place. His glances shifting around the room while he still holds the leash in his hand.

"I am Denise." She hops of the counter approaching Spencer with a stretched out hand but he moves back his ears now turning red too.

"Spencer. Spencer Reid." He contains the grip on the leash not shaking her hand.

"Here comes the water bottle." Cherful Morgan approaches him and realizes what must have run down. "Spencer meet my girlfriend Denise. Denise,meet my boyfriend Spencer." He jokes and opens the water bottle for him.

"I am not- I am not his boyfriend." He stutters out and then takes a sip.

"She knows. What do you guys say we order some pizza?"

"Sound good to me." Denise tells them and Spencer agrees too and when the Pizza arrives they all sit down on the wide steps that lead into the backyard. Clooney cuddling against Spencer's leg, Denise in the middle and Morgan on the right.

"Pretty boy don't even think about giving him Pizza." Cheaply Spencer looks at Morgan and then nods before opening his cartoon.

"I think you actually have my Pizza."

"Nope I have mine."

"I have mushrooms on mine." He tells Morgan looking disgusted.

"Well I have a spinach on mine but if that doesn't bother you we can change." Spencer looks at Morgan ones than back down on his Pizza, still having the disgust but also embarrassment all over his face so Morgan gets up and crouches down infront of him. "We can pick those off, no problem. Is it okay if I touch your food?" Again disgusted Spencer shakes his head and the continues to pick the mushrooms off himself while Morgan feeds them to Clooney.

"He likes them." Laughing Spencer hands another one to Morgan. A few years back Morgan would have tried Spencer to try them too but by now he barely tries pushing his boundaries with food. He still does sometimes but food like mushrooms are a lost case. "Are you even sure he us allowed to eat those?"

"He is." Morgan cuddles the dog one last time and then gets back up. "Now good?"

"Yes." If he sees Spencer letting Clooney eat a small bite he chooses to ignore it. Rossi made a joke ones asking if Spencer is actually friends with Morgan or if he is just friends with Cooney and Morgan is the extra.

Spencer doesn't engage in the conversation they have, he is just fine being near Morgan and eating his dinner he doesn't need a conversation to feel comfortable.

"How long have you been friends?" Denise asks shortly after Spencer got into his car and left.

"He could tell you the exact days but I guess eight maybe nine or ten years."

"Do you spend a lot time together?"

"We work together so we practically spend less time without each other."

"And outside from work?"

"He normally steps by if I renovate houses or we watch a movie or something. He is more someone who needs his time alone. But he has no problem spending that alone time around my house or with Clooney."

You can find ten more chapters on Ao3 (link above)

#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #ao3 author #aaron hotchner #david rossi #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #cm #autistic spencer reid

[little-red-toyota]

Final good bye to the fandom

TW//Trauma, triggers, nsfw, sexual themes, rape, domestic abuse e.g.

This is gonna be a long ass post…

It has taken me a while to get emotionally strong enough to do this, as I will have to think back at some traumatic events from my past to address some of these things. That's why I waited until I got home from vacation with my family, as it will seriously affect my mood and mental health, and I want to be near my doctor and therapist, just in case.

And also, I know that the majority of those reading this will invalidate me and tell me I am making things up to clear my name. So, I literally have to torment myself to write a blog post people will just brush off as bogus anyway. But I will do it now that I am in safe surroundings. Then it will be off my chest, and I can finally move on. If people will continue stirring up the past, it will be their problem, not mine.

I think I should write one last blog post where I address everything. I have left the TTTE-fandom, but I will write that one as my final goodbye to the fandom. I just have to find out everything I've been accused of so I can properly address them all in order. I might leave out details of my life that is too hard for me to open up about. I know most of you will just invalidate me anyway.

1. The Stepney fic and glorifying rape.

2. My mafia-AU.

3. The Darin incident.

4. Being a pedophile. (Where do they get this from anyway??)

5. Running the NSFW-blog.

6. Drawing penises/boobs on trains. Drawing age-regression art.

Is there more?

Ah... yes! Faking my own suicide, of course!

7. "Faking" being suicidal.

8. Having the audacity to survive and go on living.

9. "Making up" my past trauma to justify writing fics to cope with it.

10. Being a nazi for being interested in WW2 history and for being Norwegian and having so-called nazi-letters in my last name (actual letters of the Norwegian alphabet).

11. Putting a white-supremacist flag (the actual flag of Norway) on my porch on family birthdays and our national day.

12. Being a danger to my daughter.

Anything else that needs to be addressed? What else am I being accused of? Send me a dm and I will add it to the post.

 Okay, I will bump the Stepney fic down a bit as it is the most traumatic thing for me to address, I will save that one for last.

2 and 3. The dark au/mafia au where I gave some TTTE characters some rather dark and unpleasant character traits, and the whole incident with Darin and the pedo-Salty was addressed in this blog post written by my husband last year, so I am not opening that can of worms again: https://little-red-toyota.tumblr.com/post/623743183795470336/in-light-of-recent-events

Even the thing about Toby cheating on Henrietta is addressed there.

As for the au, I never fully explored it as I started losing interest in TTTE around the same time. I found other things to enjoy and TTTE faded into the background and the au was dropped before I even wrote any stories, apart from the one about Toby and Henrietta.

Some people claim, like this lovely individual, that most of the characters were rapists and pedos. No, not most. Only one of each. And I did not write more than one story about rape and suicide. Where does this person even get that from? Someone who told someone who had heard from someone who might have heard….?

Don't spread rumors unless you are sure that they are true.

Anyway, it's all addressed in that blog post in that link. I don't see how this mafia au is any worse than other dark post-apocalyptic or violent aus. It mostly was about the diesel mafia and their illegal businesses, not about sex, even if it did occur now and then. I find the substance abuse in it to be more problematic tbh…  

 4. Being a pedophile.

I don't even know how to defend myself against this one, as I don't even know why people think I am pedophile. They only throw the accusation out with no backing evidence, so I have no idea where it comes from or what it is that makes people think I am one.

Apart from one claim that I had faved "porn" alongside "strangers'" baby photos on DA. I addressed that earlier though. As DeviantArt doesn't sort what you click "like" on, it all ends up in the same folder unless you actively go through it and sort it into categories, which I don't bother most of the time. It also doesn't say WHEN it was added to your faves. So, I can have faved an artistic nude on Saturday, and then faved my friend's family photo on Thursday. It's not like I actively search for porn, get all steamed up and then look at pictures of children. WTF.

The few children I have faved are not from complete strangers, but long-term friends of mine. Yes, it is possible to have friends on the same website. I have actually met a lot of my RL friends through DeviantArt. I posted photos of my daughter when she was a baby, they would fave it and congratulate me. So, I did the same when they had a baby. As simple as that. Nothing weird or perverted about it. Due to people doxxing me last year however, I deleted the photos of me, my husband and my daughter from DeviantArt, so it's no longer there.

Porn isn't allowed on DeviantArt anyway. The nudes there are so-called artistic nudes, and for the most part I use them as pose-references when I draw as it is easier to draw a pose using a nude base and then dress them up once you got the pose right.

"The very naked" centaurs I have faved. Well, I like the mythological creature Centaur. And as far as I know… they do not wear clothes, so how are they NOT nude? Look it up, it's a horse body with a human torso instead of horse head. I don't see them as sexual, but what do I know? Maybe YOU do?

I have no sexual interest in children whatsoever.

 5. Running the NSFW-blog on Tumblr and Twitter.

Yes. I was one of six people modding that blog. ONE of six, so I refuse to take the full blame here.

MerciResolution has openly admitted to being the founder, and she recruited me and some others to modify as the confession load became too heavy for one person to handle alone.

The original blog on Tumblr worked as follows: People would anonymously send a confession to our askbox, we would add a picture (sometimes photoshopped) to the text and post it on the blog. Always tagged as NSFW and with proper trigger warnings if necessary! The blog itself was also marked as explicit, so it didn't appear in searches and such.

For us, this blog was nothing but a joke. We did it for shits and giggles. If anyone took it seriously and thought we got off to the stuff that was posted, we apologize for that, but to us it was just for laughs. And we DID laugh a lot, you guys should have seen the weird shit people sent us sometimes!

We had fun and we never thought anyone would take it seriously, so we never thought of writing "joke" in the description or anything. It never occurred to us that it could be anything but a joke.

We also made a Twitter account for it, also locked for minors. But it was quickly hacked, and someone changed the password so we could no longer access it. We made another account and forgot about the old one…

After a while, the original mods started losing interest and the blog (both on Tumblr and Twitter) became less active. That's when a person I had known for years, and wrongfully trusted, came forward and wanted to take over ownership. So, the ownership was handed over to Russalita/Charlie.

That turned out to be huge mistake!

Me and the other mods had more or less forgotten that the blogs existed, when suddenly someone started bashing me and getting up in my arms over it. I got seriously confused as I hadn't been active on it in almost a year. But as it turned out, Russalita had removed the mature filters and made the accounts open for all the see. Even minors.

And as people knew I was one of the mods, they fired their guns at me. I can see why though, so I'm not pointing any fingers here.

I tried contacting her by phone, asking her to lock the accounts again, but she gave me a less than polite response, hung up and then blocked my number…

So, I decided to try to shut the blogs down on my own, trying the old passwords. It worked on the Tumblr-account, and I managed to password protect it, for some reason it couldn't be fully deleted. But the Twitter account had gotten its password changed by Russalita. I was however able to get a new password by logging into the e-mail we had used to create it. I deleted the Twitter blog fully. It can't be re-activated even if we wanted to. It's gone.

But it turns out the old, hacked one is still up and now open for everyone. And this one poses a huge problem as we have no way of getting into it to delete it. Only thing we have been able to do so far is reporting it and hope it will be removed by Twitter. So I only have one thing to say about it: report it.

I am no longer running any NSFW TTTE blog anywhere, nor do I have interest in doing so. So, if you come across one, claiming to be me or any of the other mods, it is false.

 6. Drawing penises/boobs on trains. Drawing age-regression art.

People seem to believe I have drawn genitals on trains. I have never done such. Any art on the NSFW-blog with genitalia on the trains were sent in by confessors and was not drawn by me. Most of them seems to have been drawn by someone who goes by the name "The Lance".

I HAVE drawn things for the NSFW blog, but there were no genitalia in those drawings. I drew Frank of Arlesdale looking grossed out by (I don't know what the part is named in English, but it is connected to the brakes of the engine) that stick-like thing on his bufferbeam being wet from whatever the confessor did to him. I drew an over-exaggerated comical pic of a horrified Peter Sam getting his face licked by his driver, who had an enormous tongue. I also did a couple of manips. Mostly maniping engine faces on humans, like the one where Gordon's face is on a less than fit guy flailing his shirt around, and the Arlesdale smallies' faces on a movie poster from Magic Mike. One with Mr.Conductor in a giant bun while Pinchy is applying ketchup on him, for a confession about eating him, I think?  I've done some more, but I forgot what it was, I only know I loved making them comical rather than erotic, as I saw the blog as a joke overall.

I HAVE also drawn aheago faces on engines because it looks hilarious. Though I have only drawn them on my OCs and the NRS engines, not TTTE characters.

Point is I have never drawn genitalia on trains. Ever. And I likely never will. It's not THAT much fun drawing NSFW stuff.

I see from this screenshot that a certain MK-Instrumentalist claim that all my personal art is age-regression art and infantilism…

Whose art have you been looking at? Because it's definitely not mine. I have drawn a couple of baby/chibi diesels… But claiming that all of my 700 or so artworks are depicting infantilism and age-regression stuff? I suggest people go have a look for themselves. I haven't drawn that. That MK-guy has been desperately trying to cancel me for ages for reasons only himself know. I don't even know the guy, and he doesn't know me, yet he wants to see me beheaded. Go figure.

I was for a long time bothered by some age-regressor on Tumblr who just wouldn't leave me alone with their weird asks, who tried to force themselves on me and some other artists here. They claim age-regression isn't a fetish, but the shit they sent to my askbox certainly looked like a fetish to me.

I don't want anything to do with that stuff. It weirds me out.

And no. I have never drawn pedophilia or rape art either. This guy can't even make up his mind on which one to accuse me of.

 7 and 8. Faking suicide and having the audacity to survive and go on living.

As many know, after the intense shitstorm against me last summer, thanks to Darin, I attempted suicide. I didn't succeed as my husband came home early. I was gone for a few days but returned when a young boy reached out to me for help as he was being groomed and didn't know who else to turn to.

Recently I saw a screenshot where someone claimed me to have faked suicide, and that I just came back after a few days when everything had died down.

Wow.

I am truly sorry I survived.

I don't remember much from those days to be honest, but as the load became too heavy and the bullying too intense, piling up on 30 years of old trauma… I decided to end it. I must warn you guys who might get triggered now; there are detailed descriptions of a suicide attempt. Proceed with caution. People told me I was a bad mother among other things, having had those same thoughts myself (according to my husband, I am a good mom) and people just confirming them, I thought that my daughter would be better off growing up without me. I could have chosen a more effective suicide method, but I was afraid my daughter would be the first to find me, so I wanted it to be clean and look like I was just sleeping. That way it could be explained as natural causes.

So, I decided to overdose on pills. I downed all pills I could find in the house that had a warning triangle on it (strong pain meds etc.) and then went to my computer to delete my online existence, especially the personal data.

As a former paramedic, I should have known better. Because after half an hour, my body started reacting. But not the way I had hoped and wanted. I started retching and almost vomiting. That's when my husband came home from work and found me. He immediately saw the empty packages and knowing my past suicidal tendencies, he reacted instinctively. He put his fingers down my throat and had me puke everything up, then he called an ambulance and had me admitted to the hospital.

I don't remember anything from the days I spent there. But I have been told they emptied my stomach and gave me lots of fluids. I was then assigned a psychiatrist which I am still seeing today.

I was gone for those days because I was in hospital, not because I was pulling some kind of trick and pretending to have ended myself.

So… I am sorry I "faked" my suicide.

I'm sorry my husband saved me. I am sorry the medics and doctors succeeded in saving my life.

I am sorry I survived and proceeded to live on. If I ever make another attempt, I promise to do better.

Why are you guys so persistent in trying to push people to suicide anyway? Do you get a kick out of it? Why do people have to be pushed to that point before you care?

What did we tell our daughter? Simply that I got sick and had to go to the hospital. She took that well.

I've seen a lot of people wonder why I am still around. Why shouldn't I? Does my daughter deserve to lose her mother over some online crap she doesn't even know about? I owe her to live and watch her grow up, to help her with her homework and whatever else a parent needs to do. I also owe my husband to stay by his side, like I promised him the day we got married. Even if I do not wish to live.

I'm sorry I survived, guys. Really, I am.

 9. "Making up" my past trauma to justify writing fics to cope with it. And 1. The Stepney fic and glorifying rape.

 First… why would anyone make up trauma? It's not like it's a competition to have the worst life, is it?

Sadly, I don't have to make up anything. My life HAS been rocky up until the birth of my daughter. I have been through so much trauma I couldn't even fathom it myself before my therapist listed it all up to me. Until then, I had just been casually talking to her about it, like I would talk about the weather. I didn't cry or get in touch with my emotions even once while telling everything, because I was taught from an early age to never complain, to suck it up and go on. So, no matter what people did to me, I would just smile and go on, even if it killed me inside. I did not want to show any sign of weakness, because then they would attack me. A habit I developed through years of being bullied in school. Never show feelings, just pretend nothing could hurt you, then they would eventually grow tired of it and stop.

Except they never did. They kept going through all my years at school. To such an extent, my boyfriend didn't dare to show himself hanging out with me out of fear of being bullied himself… And as we grew older, he would start cheating on me too. And I kept smiling…

My next boyfriend was a bit older than me, and while that didn't bother me, as we were both well over legal age, it bothered him. We only lasted one year before he bailed out and ditched me out of the blue via an sms.

The next guy… was the one who scarred me for life. Both physically and mentally. A charmer at first of course, until I was trapped. He was unemployed, so he moved in with me, and I paid for everything from food to phone bills. All while he was dating several women behind my back, calling various pay-phone services and in general acted like a manwhore. As I worked as an electrician (also being subject to massive bullying and sexual harassment at work), he would be jealous of all my co-workers and if I ever came home late or worked overtime, he accused me of cheating and was extremely violent about it. He would also isolate me from my friends and family, making me think I couldn't get any other than him. If any of my male friends (almost all my friends are male…) came over, he would give me such hell afterwards, it was easier just to tell them it was a bad time to visit. And after a while, they stopped asking. This guy also demanded sex. Every single day. If I refused, he would punish me, mostly by flogging me with lampcords, belts or whatever else he had at hand. My back is a criss cross map of old, faded scars even now nearly 20 years later. I would have shown you a photo, but I am so self-concious about my body after all the bullying, I hardly even show my face in photos. Maybe one day… but I certainly need more therapy before being able to show naked skin to strangers, even if it's just my back. So I had non-consensual sex with him more often than consensual. It has taken me hours in therapy to even take the word in my mouth and call it by its proper name: rape. I was raped, almost every single day for little over a year, before I found the strength to break out of the relationship and finally throw him out of my house. It all ended when I found some revealing texts on his cellphone, which he was extremely protective of… Texts that revealed that he had engaged in a relationship with a 12 year old girl, and it had been going on for a while. Not only was he cheating on me, but he was a pedophile too. Needless to say, I didn't even let him pack his stuff before I fetched my shotgun and chased him out of the house. I don't know where I got the courage and strength from… but I was furious.

I thought I had gotten rid of him, but no. He started stalking me in public. Hiding behind shelves when I was shopping, his car following mine everywhere I went. I received weird letters in the mail with cut-out letters from newspapers, glued together. On top of all, his creepy, old uncle called me with some rather disgusting suggestions and tried to come on to me really hard. I had to change my phone number, and after coming home to my house and finding out someone had entered my home using a key, only to empty the drawer of my night table, I also had to change the locks of my doors as he had clearly copied the key.

He didn't stop until I got the police involved.

So, when I finally met the guy who would become my husband (or rather, we found out we were made for each other, we had known each other since we were 11 years old), I had major trust issues towards men especially and it took him endless patience and love to break me out of that shell.

But the trauma doesn't stop… or start there.

In the year 2000, on January 4th, I would experience something that made me unable to even look at a train for over 10 years. The Åsta accident (google it). I was a volunteer in the Norwegian Red Cross then, and a paramedic in training. Back then, you were allowed to start training the year you would turn 16. So, I was still 15 when I witnessed the most traumatic event of my life. The day started out calm, we were stocking up the ambulance after delivering a patient to the hospital when we got a call with the code "500", which means "catastrophe". Normally when we get that code it is a rehearsal… so we drove towards the coordinates with the thoughts that this was just an exercise, nothing real… we didn't prepare ourselves mentally… And we ended up in the closest thing to hell I have ever been… The sight of the burning trains, the smells, the sounds, the screaming… I still wake up by nightmares to this day. Though the moment that haunts me the most is when the screaming stopped… because we all knew why… I don't want to go into details, but 19 people died that day. But we also saved 67 people. I try to hold on to that thought. The age limit for starting paramedic training was raised after this, as I wasn't the only one who was too young for an accident of that scale. Today it is 18. A memorial stone has been placed on the site, but I still haven't been able to bring myself to visit it, even if we drive past the site every year on our way to visit family further north in the country. I needed hours of therapy to even be able to ride a train after this. To have gotten to the point where I now volunteer at a heritage railway and is in training to become a driver, is a HUGE step for me. My next goal is to visit the site of the accident.

On to next trauma… A previous employer, a rather large electric company in Norway, whom I worked for 8 years. The first five years were great, we were a close-knit bunch of electricians, and we had a great relationship with the bosses and higher-ups. Our labor union was strong.

It all started changing in 2009 when we got new leaders… and those decided to get rid of everyone who were a member of the union. One by one, they started harassing workers in various ways, trying to get them to quit. In Norway, they need a legal reason to fire you, it's not enough to not like someone. There has to be a good reason to fire someone e.g. theft, neglecting work… Since they didn't have any reasons to fire us, they started making our work lives gradually harder and harder until we would break and find another job. Sadly, one of my co-workers couldn't stand the pressure… He bid us all farewell as normal one Friday and hung himself the following day.. But as I was a girl in a male-dominated profession, I had been taught at an early stage to ignore anything that would hurt me emotionally, just arch my neck and plow through. I kept doing that, despite starting to feel more and more mental and physical pains… even my co-workers pointed out how I was being mistreated before I acknowledged it myself. I tried to tell my boss, but he reacted by treating me worse. So, I went to his boss… and that's when things went to hell. Instead of doing his job and listen, he started harassing me too. He deemed my over-weight a problem, and he started demanding I gave him detailed lists of what I ate and how much I worked out… Completely illegal of course, but by this point I was broken down to the point I thought I was useless and couldn't get another job… so I accepted. He started accusing me of lying about my exercise, so I started training at the gym in the basement at work instead. One day, while I was there, he locked the doors and turned the lights off. There were no windows, no cellphone reception and hardly anyone walking by in that part of the building… I sat there in the pitch dark for 3 hours before I was let back out. I still get badly triggered by narrow, dark rooms and rooms with no windows. To such an extent, I jumped out of a small window on the second floor of a gym when I was in boot camp. I was allowed to train downstairs in the bigger gym with windows on all walls after that incident…

The harassment at work went on for years until I finally snapped, ended up at the hospital and got into therapy for the first time. I don't want to go into depth about what more happened, I just can't… I can't bring myself to write it all. Luckily, I had gotten more education while working, so when I graduated, another company called and gave me an offer I just couldn't refuse. So, I quit my job and never looked back, even if the traumas I suffered there still haunts me to this day.

Sadly, even after switching jobs, now getting a safe job with sane leaders… I started to relax, and that's when all my past trauma came washing over me. And one day, on while driving to work, I had my first serious panic attack. It started as this feeling I used to have at the old company; getting sick to my stomach and having the sense of someone being out to get me… then it developed to breathing problems… and I had to pull the car over. I broke into tears, struggling to breathe, stumbling out of the car to read the logo on its side just to reassure my body and brain that I worked for a different company now and there was no reason for panic. I called my boss and let him know, because he also was a "refugee" from that other company, so he knew what me and several others had gone through. He managed to talk me down enough for me to come to the office to talk to him. That helped.

I got back into therapy. A better therapist this time. But sadly, it got apparent that I could no longer work as an electrician as there was too many triggers. I was diagnosed with PTSD, severe depression, and social anxiety. I'm still working on these and get better slowly.

I have been in therapy for a long time now, and it was my therapist that suggested I wrote fics to cope and "write it out". I tried to make up my own characters for this, but never felt any connection. I was by this time in the TTTE fandom and had met people with similar trauma and pasts like myself, and I started roleplaying with some of them. Me and a girl from UK then agreed to try to rp/co-write a fic to cope with our trauma. We both found it easier to write about pre-established characters we had a connection to, even if it was an au that made it barely recognizable from the original source material. Only the names and some minor things were similar.

That fic was Stepney's Virginity Gets Lost.

Do we regret writing it? No. It helped us write out our traumas and helped us overcome some mental obstacles in out therapy process. Our therapists cheering us on, because we finally managed to break through the hard shell surrounding us. We both cried for the first time in years while writing it, some of it through roleplay, because some parts were extremely graphic and brutal and very mentally exhausting. We had to take long breaks between each writing session, so the fic wasn't written in just a weekend. But we got a lot of darkness out of our minds by writing all this. And we were definitely NOT aroused by it, like this pervert here claims.

It's when you dare to touch and feel the difficult and dark emotions, you can finally move along in the grieving process.

Should it have been posted online?

In retrospect, no. But at the time, we thought it might help other trauma victims, as we also found reading about other people's experiences and fictions touching painful subjects helpful to ourselves. So, we posted it, never expecting it to cause such a controversy 3 years later. In fact, we had more or less forgotten about it until it came back to bit us in the ass. Or rather, bite ME in the ass, as I am getting the full blame alone.

Also, despite what people claim, it was not posted openly for children to read. It was tagged properly and hidden behind mature content walls. If a minor chooses to break that wall, that's not the author's fault. It's the same as watching a movie with an age restriction way above your age, not the filmmaker's fault.

I think MerciResolution puts it nicely here:

"If your problem lies with you KNOWINGLY entering adult spaces when you’re a minor, ignoring all mature warnings that are literally SCREAMING at you “hey, this is what you’re getting into. Are you sure you want to proceed?”

That’s ENTIRELY on you. YOU are the fucking problem.

We’re marking mature things as best as we properly can. If you decide to ignore them, that’s your own damn fault. We’re not your fucking babysitters."

Also, I never posted the story on Wattpad, so if anyone has done that, it's not me. I posted the story on Fanfiction.net, DeviantArt and AO3, that's all. If it's posted anywhere else, it's not done by me.

I had honestly moved on from it when people pulled me back into it.

Other people who have done questionable shit in that fandom are easily forgiven because "they have moved on" or "changed". Yet, nobody believes I can move on or change…?

I had moved on; my interests had changed. But people won't let me, so here I am… Having to defend some crap I did years ago. A fic I no longer have any interest in.

I'm not even interested in TTTE anymore. I have moved on with my own book project now and I would like to focus on that.

So, deleting my TTTE content, whether it was the SFW or NSFW stuff, didn't cost me a penny. It actually felt like a relief. The only downside with it is that people now can't read it and make up their own opinion about it, but will solely believe in what others say, and those things are often seriously bent out of shape and blown out of proportions to such an extent it's barely recognizable.

If people claim that Arry and Bert rape Stepney in the fic, they have never seen it or read it. That's not what happens. That's just an assumption made by looking at the title and knowing there is a rape/torture scene in it. But I'm not gonna tell who the victim is or who performed it, because this is the only way I am able to tell who has actually read the fic or not, who is just trying to spread bullshit and who is actually telling the truth. The person in that screenshot, has no idea what he's talking about.

Does SVGL romanticize rape and abuse?

No, not in the least. It's described as the horrible, heinous acts it is and is in no way meant to be cute or romantic and definitely NOT something anyone should get off to. If anyone finds it sexy, that's their problem, not the authors'. If anything, SVGL might romanticize suicide, because one of the characters isn't able to cope with his trauma and chooses to end their life. Which is something I considered doing myself when I was in the darkest pit of depression. So, I apologize for maybe romanticizing suicide. The following chapters describe how friends and family handle the loss and grief.

It also describes a toxic relationship, where one of the parts struggles to get out of it. They eventually manage to break free, but it is not easy. This can easily be translated to my previously mentioned relationship, as it was my way of writing out my experience about how hard it is to break out of a relation when your partner has broken you down to the point where you no longer believe in yourself and your self-worth.

The last chapters start to gradually become brighter, as both our lives started getting better too. But we never really wrote the end because we both lost interest in writing TTTE content by that time and just left it hanging.

I'm not the only one who has written NSFW TTTE fanfics out there. But it seems like violence and murder is more acceptable than sexual things? I do wonder how brutally mutilating children's show characters are more tolerable than sexually abusing them. Neither should be okay.

Some content creators hide behind "it was a joke". I have been told that such topics that SVGL touches upon shouldn't be joked about… so I didn't do that, and yet it was wrong? So how should such topics be treated? Be hidden like it's a shame, like in the old days when rape victims were told to suck things up and keep it to themselves? When those subject to abuse didn't dare to speak up because people would judge them?

I think it is important to talk about these subjects and why they are so problematic. Victims shouldn't have to hide their trauma; they should be allowed to talk openly about it without fearing judgement.

Some of you claim that writing isn't a good way to cope… You're trying to dictate how trauma victims deal with their trauma, and that's a dangerous path to walk down. Nobody handles trauma the same way. You might have your thoughts on how you would react, but you'll never know until trauma hits you… and you might not react the way you had expected or planned. Trauma messes with your head and you won't be able to think clearly. It makes you do thinks you normally wouldn't have done and can make you act out of character. So, do not judge people without having been in the same situation yourself. Ever.

Someone wrote that I have "more problems that just a rape".

Read that again.

Just a rape.

This person does not know how damaging a rape can be. And if you made it this far in this post, you know I didn't only go through one, but several. Not just by my ex, but also being ambushed while I was walking home from a party, and later; a co-worker forcing himself onto me at a building site. I can't go into depth about them all, I just can't.

Just a rape…

"Just" the feeling of not being in control of your own body and your own decisions. "Just" being robbed off your dignity and self-worth. "Just" having someone intrude into your private zone, tear your clothes off and claim your body against your will. "Just" feeling how your life force leave you as you realize that fighting against it won't help you, and you silently give up and just lay down waiting for it all to be over. "Just" spending hours in the shower, scrubbing your skin until you bleed because you can't wash the filth away and you keep feeling dirty no matter how much you clean yourself. "Just" waking up at night, after having relived the scene again in a nightmare. "Just" looking over your shoulder wherever you walk because you heard something or thought you saw something or simply because someone is walking behind you. "Just" the fact that you'll never feel comfortable walking alone at night again or have someone walk behind you. "Just" never being able to relax because your body constantly think you're in grave danger. "Just" a rape…

That's such a neck-beard thing to say. Someone who clearly think of other people's bodies as property or things. Not taking into consideration that we are living, breathing individuals with feelings. And that having another person violate us isn't something we like or that we'll easily get over. We want to choose who we give ourselves to, nobody should be forced. We didn't ask to be raped. We didn't want it. We didn't like it.

Rape is trauma.

Yes, we should have chosen other characters for the story, but we did what we did, and it cannot be undone now. So, if the only thing I will be remembered for in the fandom is that ONE fic, instead of all my other content, that's what it will be. That's what people chose to. I'm moving on.

10. Being a nazi for being interested in WW2 history and for being Norwegian and having so-called nazi-letters in my last name (actual letters of the Norwegian alphabet).

*sigh*

This is something that could only happen in America, isn't it?

Some people don't bother educating themselves. The "nazi-letters" you guys are talking about is actually part of the Norwegian alphabet and has nothing to do with Nazism or white-supremacy to do at all. The Norwegian alphabet has 29 letters, the three extra is æ,ø,å or in capital letters: Æ,Ø,Å.

We can't help it if some morons over in the US abuse these letters as symbol of their twisted mindset.

Yes, my name contains one of those letters. It is my name… and I didn't choose it. It is a common Norwegian name.

As for me being a Nazi?

Those who knows me knows that I am as far from a Nazi as one can get. I despise Nazism with all my heart.

But the reason some people choose to believe so… was that some guy who has no hobbies or life went through every single fave I've made on DeviantArt since I joined the site in 2006, which is well over 20000 faves. And he found a few Nazi-characters from a web series I was following about ten years ago. I am very interested in history and especially WW2-history, so I found that particular web-series interesting and faved some artwork related to it. What this guy failed to notice is that I also faved the Allied characters… That's ALL there is to that story.

I has also faved a pic someone made of Joseph Goebbels (I think it was?) as a Pixar Car. That's not because I have any nazi-sympathies, but I simply found the concept of turning historical persons, both good and bad, into Cars as an interesting project. I would have faved any other historical Carsified person as well.

As for me being a Norwegian and have a natural pale complexion, that's not something I can help. That's nothing I choose. And it doesn't make me racist or Nazi. Period.

11. Putting a white-supremacist flag (the actual flag of Norway) on my porch on family birthdays and our national day.

Again. Get educated.

This flag… is the actual flag of my country. The Kingdom of Norway.

There is nothing Nazi about it. It is not a symbol of white-supremacy. IT IS THE FLAG OF NORWAY.

During WW2 it was even illegal, so people would paint it everywhere in a protest against the Nazi-occpation and the SS. We even decorated our Christmas trees with it, and that is a tradition that has followed us into the modern day.

Again, if some idiots in the US choose to use it as a symbol for their disgusting logic, it is not Norway or the Norwegians' fault.

12. Being a danger to my daughter.

I need people to elaborate here.

What exactly do you think I do to my daughter? What is the cause of your concern here?

The fact that I have made NSFW content? How is that harmful to her as long as I keep it away from her? You DO realize that even authors, pornstars and moviemakers have children and that they can be good parents, right?

Do you think I read pornographic content for her as bedtime stories? Or show her porn instead of kids TV? How sick are you guys, really…?

Some people even wanted CPS to take my child away from me… Have a look at these screenshots…

You want a happy, healthy, innocent child to be taken away from a stable, safe home with loving parents just because you don't like the content the mother made? You want her to be placed in foster care, where there is no guarantee that she will have a happy upbringing rather than have her stay with her parents who love her and care for her, for reasons she'll never understand and wasn't even aware of?

"Think of the children!" a lot of you say when it comes to my content. May I ask why this doesn't apply to my daughter?

Why do some of you go as far as to wishing her dead or wanting her to be removed from the home she feels safe and loved in? How is that thinking of the children?

As for the douchebag in that screenshot. You claim that if your mother did something like that you would want nothing to do with her… I have a question: Do you know EVERYTHING your mother do? Does she include you in each aspect of her life? Even her sexual life? No?

How do you know she doesn't do thing you don't approve of when you're not around? She could be a rabid pornmag reader for all you know. But stuff like that is something adults hide from their kids. So, you wouldn't know, unless you go snooping around in her business.

Everyone is entitled to privacy. What I and my husband do when our kid is not around is our business, not hers, and certainly not yours.

Porn and parenting are to be kept separate from each other. Period.

And we do.

There is absolutely no reason to be worried about my daughter. She is a happy, healthy child in a safe, stable home with family that loves her and cares for her. Not just me and my husband, but also grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

If you want to remove her from that over a stupid fanfic behind a mature content wall, you're the deranged person, not me.

 This is all I have to say about all this and my time in the TTTE fandom. I have left by my own, free will. Yes, I am aware that many people don't want me there. That's fine. I don't want to be there.

I am a bit disappointed in those people who just blindly unfollowed me and unfriended me without any questions asked, just followed the leader. Big users tend to dictate who and what is worth following in that fandom. They will even protect real predators, but I'm not going to open that can of worms now. I'm done with the fandom.

Some of those people, I have been talking to regularly, even supported when they faced hardships in the fandom themselves. But when I got in trouble, they ditched me without a word…

If anything, this whole ordeal showed me who to trust and not, and who were true to their word when it came to how deep our friendship was. True friends at least give you the chance to explain before they drop you. I hold no ill feelings to those who did, at least they asked me before judging.

And those who still stayed with me, are the ones who truly know me and who I really am.

Some of the worst libels posted about me might be reported to the police, but I haven't made up my mind yet. I am not mentally strong at the moment, so I don't know if I have the strength to legally follow it all up. I will ask the cops at work for advice on the matter.

All I ask for now is some peace.

You don't have to like me. You don't have to follow me. You don't have to like my content. Feel free to invalidate me, I know a lot of you will.

But please, stop bullying me and my family.

Please stop sending me horrid messages and death threats.

Please stop doxxing me and calling me.

Please leave my family alone. If you don't care about me, at least care about them.

Please just ignore me. I have already left the fandom, there is no reason to keep hunting me.

I just want to move on and go on with my life and the content I am currently working on. After years in therapy, my life has gotten better, and I want to move on.

Please let me.

#good bye to ttte #tw//suicide #tw//rape #tw// bullying #tw//depression #tw//ptsd #tw//ttte #tw//sex #tw//abuse #tw//domestic abuse #I'm done

[ll-underestimated-ll]

Answering All Questions from a Prompt Cos I Do What I Want

1. What’s one experience your character had that made them very afraid?

The first time he woke up to find that what he’d dismissed as being entirely the formation of one of his nightmares - was very much real. Prompted the realisation of just how much harm he was capable of doing.

2. Does your character have a deep and/or dark secret? If so, what is it?

Leo doesn’t let people know that his sire & grandsire never entirely aligned themselves with the Camarilla. Considering it took him some time to work that out himself he holds hope that at his current age people simply won’t go digging. There is also generally a lot of things he’s done in the name of fulfilling some role or another that he feels deep shame for. That’s less kept secret and more... he just doesn’t speak about it.

3. Have they ever lost a loved one? What happened to them, and are they the same as they were before they lost them?

Many. Regularly. Loss is simply part of un-life for him. The fact he hasn’t lost anyone near and dear to him over the last half a century hangs over him like a bad omen. He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. But a short list of the most notable losses that had an summary of their impact on him:  - Eldest brother : sickness/starvation ~1510 - resulted in Leo taking on a survivalist ‘me before others’ attitude. - Best friend : first feed post-embrace 1516 - made him terrified of himself for several years - First wife : Mother order him to burn her to death late-1520s - made him highly aware of the fact that he can be turned on people he’s cared about  - Ell (one of his ‘siblings’) : sent on a suicide mission Mother had him sign off on ~1630?1620? - was the last straw in hammering home what he’d already seen over the course of being blood bonded. They were all disposable to her, and it was only a matter of time before he’d meet the same fate. - Nossie he’d fallen for : execution 1940s - after he had committed several masquerade breaches Vindr ordered Leo to use trust he had with him to follow through with the execution. It’d been a long time since he’d killed someone that dear to him and the ease at which he did it unsettled even himself. 

4. Has your character ever been hurt or betrayed by someone they thought they could depend on? What happened?

Yes. He’d had ‘siblings’ try to double-cross him on plenty of occasions. Usually was via trying to pin the blame for something on him.

5. Would they ever turn on someone they just met in order to save themselves?

Yes.

6. Have they ever committed a crime, or something they felt was wrong? What was it?

The entire Crimes Act. At least, as far as he has the capacity for doing so.

7. If your character was allowed to murder one person without any consequences, who would it be and why?

Vindr. The time spent blood bonded to each other between 1860 - 1989.

8. Does your character have any enemies? If so, who and why?

There are several hunters based in the country he’s trying to figure out how to get rid off without causing a scene or draw any attention to. They’re a threat to his community. 

9. Is the character a victim of abuse?

Yes.

10. What were the character’s parents like? What was the affect the parents had on the character?

His father was a minor merchant managing the coming and goings of goods from his home village. His work placed them above standard serfdom allowing him the chance to learn basic reading and writing before his sire (Mother) adopted him. Any influence they had on him has long since been overshadowed by other things.

11. What are your character’s coping mechanisms?

Burying himself in work and activities. Finding relatable aspects in fictional characters. Joking around and making the most of opportunities where he doesn’t have to take things too seriously.

12. Do they like to suffer? Like to see other people suffering?

After lifetimes of suffering he’d prefer to avoid it. However he does have a cruel streak and enjoy seeing other people suffer. Has that ‘it’ll build character’ and ‘it’s not that bad so suck it up’ sort of attitude towards other peoples shit. Sometimes he just wants someone to suffer as a way to exercise control over them.

13. What does it take to make your character cry?

Simultaneously a lot, and also real minor stuff. Ya know, the standard shit to come from suppressing/bottling up your reactions to incredibly straining situations. He’ll be cold and apathetic in some incredibly horrible situation he ought to cry about. Then some time later break down post screaming fit at some inanimate object because it wasn’t cooperating with him.

14. What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?

Other than his prioritisation of maintaining his own power and survival over anything else? The fact he’s stuck at 16 years old. That’s an incredibly difficult thing to work around - even when in a relationship based purely on romantic feelings. These modern nights he feels that both physical and overall age lock him out of legitimate relationships entirely. To the point where he doesn’t even play at stringing people along on one sided things ~for the drama~ like he used to. 

This particular reason is what’s had him friendzoned by the twins, despite them being the best probably candidate and him pulling kind of a Edward on them.

15. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

Biggest fear is hard to pinpoint, but in general the concept of being completely helpless and not in control of his own actions. When scared he gets paranoid and hyper-vigilant of his surroundings. Very on guard towards any threats and looking for away to run away.

16. What are your character’s vices and bad habits?

Impulsiveness. Knowingly causing harm. Smoking.

17. Is your character afraid of death? Why/why not?

Absolutely. He doesn’t even like to think about what final death will have in store for him.

18. Would society call your character a good guy or a bad guy? what would they say they are?

From societies perspective from everything he’s been involved with - 120% a bad guy. He’d say the same and mark himself down as being an Anti-hero at best. 

19. What is your character insecure about?

His own paranoia causing him to flip from being impulse to being incredibly indecisive at times.

20.  What was something they struggled with greatly and how did they overcome it?

Being blood bonded. Overcome through a mix of share force of will and personal introspection.

21. Does your character have anyone that they really care about, to the point that they would give their life for them? If so, who are they and what is your character’s relation to them? If not, do they wish they did? Is there anyone they wish they could build such a relationship with?

While he doesn’t think he’d give his lives for them because that sort of behaviour is incredibly foolish in his eyes - his current found family from the past century. His central coterie of the twins and Alexandra in particular. He will throw just about everyone in his city under the bus in the name of protecting them. And, they’d do the same. In post-prince verse when his city falls Alex ends up the one sacrificing her life for him and god the guilt is sickening.

He’s quite happy with his current little familial circle but he’s hoping to get closer with Danny. Get him to be part of that found family circle properly.

22. If they could change just one thing about themselves, what would it be?

He’d like to have the capacity to care for people without feeling like he’s going to inevitably be their downfall.

23. Is your character more physically or emotionally strong? Why is this?

If we’re talking strong in terms of taking blows that can be taken I wanna say physically cos despite it being his lowest stat his Fortitude is high so he soaks damage fairly easily.

24. What is your character’s most important possession? Why?

He still has his signet ring from when he fled his Mother. Not even he knows just how much that it means to him. It’s intensely sentimental to him as the only physical possession he has left of that era of his life. Someone stole it from him while he was living in London and he made quite the mess of them to get it back.

25. Do they find that they care what others think of them? Or do they not really mind how others view them?

He flip flops wildly between caring intensely about what others think of him and not giving a singular shit. It depends on the crowd and his motivations. In general his preference is to have people to like him and see him as above them in some way.

26. What, in your character’s life, puts the most pressure on them?

The community he’s Prince of. He sees his role as being to protect them at the end of the day and sometimes that means doing things they don’t like. But doing things they dislike gets push back and push back de-legitimises his power as Prince.

27.  What would be the worst way to die, in your character’s opinion?

How he almost died when I used him briefly as a PC. Disgraced. Looked down upon with no dignity by everyone around him in a city he’s unfamiliar with. Nobody. Nothing. The last of his city. A waste of the self sacrifice from those he loved. Crying, screaming desperately trying to claw his way out of capture at the hands of those that don’t know tossing him in a holding cell where light can get to him will kill him.

28. What is your character’s greatest strength?

In mun’s opinion, the fact that despite everything he’s been through and seen...the fact that he just keeps going.

29. What is their weapon of choice, and what weapon do they dislike using the most?

Social manipulation so that combat is avoided in the first place. But, he’s always had a liking for firearms and actually quite likes using them. He dislikes fighting with his bare hands.

30. What makes them feel safe or secure? What makes them feel insecure or unsafe?

He feels most safe when either alone or the only people around him are those he has blood bonded. He feels deeply uncomfortable around kindred that are of a lower generation than him. With dominate as a main discipline he finds that not being able to resort to it suddenly makes all interactions with the person he’s interacting with very threatening.

#long post #ooc #about

[radiorenjun]

Hug. ⅲ

→Pairing: Liu Yangyang x Reader

→Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

→Warnings: Swearing, Bullying, Attempt Suicide and mentions of self degrading, insecurities, anxiety, negative thoughts, physical injuries.

→Looking from the perspective of Liu Yangyang, the boy who bullied a girl to the point she had a scar to burden both of their lives. He lived on with a heavy heart until he finally enters college and bumps into a girl with a familiar scar and the same tattoo on her wrist as his.

→ Chapter: ii, ⅲ, ⅳ

→Tags: @wonho-ssi , @chuu4you, @uglyratlmao

17 Years Old

Yangyang stared emotionlessly out of his window, watching the bright sun illuminating the light blue sky, clouds slowly moving away with every passing second. Eyes staring emotionlessly as he stared into nothingness without a single thought in mind.

His eyes flickered to the small tattoo on his wrist. The unremovable stain of ink stuck to his skin forever reminding him of his wrong doings. A small tattoo of two balloons, symbolizing his soulmate and him living together through the cruel world.

Yangyang buried his head in his arms, sighing in exhaustion as his eyes never moved away from the infuriating mark on his wrist that bonded him with his soulmate which appeared a year ago.

He hated himself. And he hated life that he had to endure this pain for the rest of his time in life.

Weeks ago, Yangyang walked out of the registration room, signing up for classes for college. 'Being in a music major didn't sound too bad, right?' was the only thing that came to his head when he passed by the music room of his college.

Even though he was in his senior year of highschool, Ten said its never too early to start thinking about college. What's the harm in taking in applications early?

He poked his head through the doorway, looking into the classroom where different instruments lay in the back of the class, seats perfectly align next to one another. He sighed as he stared into the empty classroom, his hand sliding down the doorway as he turned to walk out of the building.

"See you soon, Y/n!" a girl said, making Yangyang's eyes grew wide at the name. It sounded so familiar, he felt a presence walk passed him and he turned to see a girl walking pass him.

She was wearing a school uniform, her hair covering her face as she walked by. The only thing that attracted Yangyang's attention was the scar on her bottom lip, the scar of a stitching. His mind made his eyes see none other than the girl he bullied back in 6th grade.

Out of reflex, Yangyang grabbed the girl's wrist gently to stop her from walking further away from him. "Y/N L/N?" he asked hesitantly, his heart rate increasing nervously as he watched the girl turn to look at him.

There she was.

The same girl he bullied mercilessly as a child. For some reason, the world looked brighter then moment his nervous eyes met her shy ones. He slowly released his grip on her wrist once he caught her attention, words gathering on his throat as he quickly thought of what to say.

He felt his heart pounding nervously against his chest, it seemed as if the world got brighter the moment their eyes met. He didn't know why but he couldn't let her go on without speaking a word to her.

"Um," Yangyang mumbled, a hand reaching back to scratch his neck nervously as he avoided her eyes for a second. "Do you remember me?" he asked, pointing a finger at himself as he gathered up the courage to meet her bright eyes.

"From 6th grade?" he gulped nervously, waiting anxiously for her reaction. He watched as her eyes grew confused for a short moment, trying to recall who he was before her eyes widened in shock. Suddenly, she made a run for it, running away from Yangyang, making a sound with every step.

"W-Wait! Y/N!" Yangyang exclaimed, running after her, a hand reaching into his bag to pull out a familiar crumpled old notebook as he chased the girl across the hall.

Y/N ran across the hall, around the corner and down the staircase, pausing slightly to see if Yangyang had followed her but her eyes widened to see Yangyang's figure catching up to her, making her run down the steps and sprinting as fast as she can to hide.

The girl ducked down under the railing, hoping that he would pass by and go away. Yangyang kept calling out her name frantically, looking around in hope to see the girl. "Y/N!" he called out once again in the quiet hallway.

He almost missed the poor girl kneeling down to hide herself under the railing. He let out a grunt as he find himself kneeling before the shy girl who froze in place when she saw him kneeling in front of her with a small shy smile stretched on his face.

"Uh, hey." he sucked in his bottom lip anxiously mentally beating himself up with how lame that sounded. "What are you doing here?" he spoke hesitantly, fearing that she would run again before he got the chance to apologize to the poor girl he bullied.

She hesitantly pointed at the banner standing a few feet away behind him, making Yangyang turn and squint his eyes to make out the poorly written letters. It was an advertisement for the new arts class that's opening up for college students.

"Oh. So you're here for college, too?" Yangyang asked, only to internally face palm afterwards. 'Of course she is, Liu, why do you think she pointed at the damn banner?!' he thought.

He watched her nod as they both slowly stood up, engulfed in the awkward atmosphere surrounding them, not knowing what to say next. "Hey, since like," Yangyang asked hesitantly.

His eyes avoiding hers as he continued, "Since, we're going to see each other more often once we graduated. Do you," he pointed at the girl before pointing at himself, "want to be friends?" he finished, intertwining his fingers together before gasping at his actions.

'You prick, that was what she was telling you years ago!' he groaned internally. Nervous to see whats her next move, his eyes wide to see her lips form a genuine smile as she nodded, stretching out her arm to shake his hand.

Yangyang bit his lip before he smiled, putting his hand in her smaller ones. His eyes squinted as he saw the small tattoo ink on her wrist, trying to make out its shape. Apparently, y/n caught his eyes before letting go of his hand and showing him the ink stain on her wrist.

Yangyang's eyes widened at the shape of two small balloons on her wrist, identical to the ones on his. His mouth gaped open slightly as he rubbed his eyes slightly to see if he was hallucinating, rubbing it a bit too hard to check if he wasnt dreaming.

A pang of guilt that had been injected into deep of his heart has made it sunk down to the pit of his stomach. Most people would be thrilled. Hell, alot would've cried tears of joy if they found their other half who they were longing to meet for years.

All Yangyang felt at the moment was sadness, anger and misery. Sad not because he didn't want her to be his soulmate, no, sad because she didn't deserve a soulmate who bullied her mercilessly to the point blood was spilled.

Anger because he wanted to curse at the higher ups for burdening both him and her with this bond. And misery because he knew she would have to live without a soulmate when she finds out bout it.

His feared eyes glanced towards her concerned ones, he could hear her say 'what's wrong?' through the look on her face. No, she can't find out that he's her soulmate. She's going to hate him even more, after all, who would want a soulmate who harassed them?

Yangyang shook his head before forcing himself to let out a bright smile. "No, no, it's nothing!" he chuckled, letting go of her wrist quickly. "I just thought it looked like someone I knew but it's not," he stammered out. She didn't look convinced, he had to get out of there.

"Uh, it was nice seeing you, Y/n. I gotta go to the bank and grab some money," he stammered, avoiding the girl's eyes laced with suspicion and concern. "I'll see you around, y/n." his voice broke as he turned to walk away as nonchalantly as he could.

Once he saw that he was far enough, Yangyang started sprinting, soon enough he was running. Tears filling up his eyes as he stopped by the bank, leaning against a pole infront of the building, he let a few tears roll down as the streets wasn't so busy as it was a school night.

Yangyang sat on the stairs before the entrance of the bank, burying his head in his hands as he tugged on the strands frustratingly. Why did the world had to do this to him? Hasn't he suffered enough?

Isn't living with constant guilt and a devil clinging around his neck for the rest of his life enough? He couldn't even meet his eyes with other people in public, what else did he do to deserve no mercy in this world?

After a few minutes, Yangyang got up, his eyes bloodshot red as he sniffled. Once again, he felt empty. He snuck his hand into the pocket of his hoodie, checking if his credit card was there before entering the bank.

Yangyang stirred, his head hurt. He felt the burning sensation of the sunlight peering through his curtainless window. The thin cloth, that he used for a blanket, rolled down his shoulders as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. He groaned as he stretched his arms and observed his empty room.

He eyed the small opened bottle of empty sleeping pills, the chocolate coloured small envelope filled with a huge wad of cash inside laying beside it. Yangyang scratched his head as he got up, grabbed the envelope and walked down the stairs.

"Good morning!" a small voice call out as he walked out of the door of his room, he looked down to be greeted by his little cousin, Chenle, who was staying with them til his parents got out of the hospital due to a car accident that happened recently.

"Chenle." he smiled weakly, looking down at the small boy who was still in his little jammies. "Good morning, why are you up so early?" Yangyang knelt down to be at the same eye level as the young boy. Chenle's brows furrowed at his cousin, "Early? It's 11 am!" he exclaimed.

"Still, it's too early." Yangyang joked, earning a hit from the hard boy. "You sleep, too much, you idiot!" he scolded, Yangyang giggled as he braced for another hit by the young boy. "I know, I know." he giggled.

"Ten said he was making bacon today!" Chenle exclaimed grabbing Yangyang's hand and tugging him towards the kitchen. "Come on, let's go!" he whined as Yangyang let out a soft laugh, "I'm coming. Jeez, Lele, chill out." he chuckled.

He walked into the bright kitchen to see his older brother in his pajamas, a bright white apron with letters neatly stitched onto it saying 'hottest thing in the kitchen'. A pan in Ten's hand and a spatula in the other, distributing the food evenly onto the three plates displayed on the table.

"Good morning," Chenle exclaimed loudly, jumping onto a chair and sitting down abruptly. "Good morning, Lele. Good morning to you too, baby Yangyang." Ten teased as Yangyang rolled his eyes at his older brother.

"I told you to stop calling me that, Ten. I'm not your baby," he groaned, rolling his eyes in the process as he sat down beside Chenle across Ten. "Guess what we're having for breakfast?" Ten exclaimed as he grabbed another pan and turned off the stove, putting the other one in the sink.

"Bacon!" Chenle exclaimed, making Yangyang laugh at the young one's enthusiasm. "That's right, kid!" Ten smiled, putting a few strips of bacon onto his plate and a few onto Yangyang's plate. Yangyang mumbled a small thank you to his brother before he began eating.

He felt eyes boring into his skull as he stuffed egg whites into his mouth, looking up to see his brother glaring at him with a unreadable expression. "What's up with you?" he asked with a mouthful of food, chewing slowly. Ten's eyes darted from the envelope under his plate, raising a brow at his younger brother.

Ten hesitantly picked it up, looking at the writing written on the backside of the envelope. 'Payback for everything,' it read. Ten sat down with a small smile on his face. The smile soon turned innocent as Yangyang continued to eat his breakfast while eyeing suspiciously at his brother.

Usually Ten was suspicious but not this suspicious, something was up and Yangyang doesn't wanna know. "Wow, you actually did it." Ten said in awe, observing the thick envelope filled with money, not even bothering to open to check the contents.

"You sold all your things. From your manga and CD collection to your switch to your furniture. I'm glad you're doing that to pay me back," Ten exclaimed, eyes going back to stare at his plate filled with mouthwatering food.

"Hey, Lele. Can you eat in your room for today, I want to talk to Yangyang for a bit." Ten finally picked up his spoon and began eating, not tearing his gaze away from his food. Chenle hummed in confusion, before shrugging and grabbing his plate before waddling away to his room.

Yangyang's emotionless eyes wandered as he watch the small boy disappear down the hall until he heard the sound of a door shutting. "Hey Yangyang," Ten spoke, attracting the 17 year old's attention. "Yeah?" Yangyang replied shortly.

"Why did you try to kill yourself?"

Two days ago, Yangyang entered his room, his eyes bloodshot and filled with tears. It was another day of school. Another day of avoiding people's eyes and closing his ears to stop himself from listening to people's constant chatters around him.

Today, he didn't know why, he just broke down. It was a normal day of walking home, then suddenly, he felt the world crashing down on him as flashbacks of his past came into mind.

Terrible memories of him being bullied, his brother getting beaten up to a pulp because of his foolish actions, his parents' death, his grades dropping down, him bullying that poor mute girl who wasn't comfortable speaking.

He didn't feel like he deserve to live. He didn't want to live. He want to stop breathing and he wanted to stop feeling so empty inside. He wanted the loud deafening silence ringing in his ears to stop. He wanted everything to stop.

Yangyang couldn't think anymore as he ran up to his house, getting up to his room and slamming the door shut without checking whoever was in the house. He assumed Ten was still at work and Chenle was having his tuitions.

He thought he was alone.

He scrambled across his room, peering through every crevice and corners of his room to search for the bottle of sleeping pills he bought ages ago to help with his irregular sleeping habits. He contemplated bout overdosing multiple times, but he was too afraid to do so.

Today was the day, he's going to use it. "Shit, where is it?!" he exclaimed, his voice hoarse and breaking as he frantically dumped out all of his items from his bag onto the floor, moving each item in hopes of finding that small bottle.

His eyes wandered to the large box of his clothes, he crawled hurriedly and ran his hands through the layers of clothing neatly folded into the box. 'What?' he thought to himself, as he peered through the small container. It was empty. "No, no, no, no," he muttered under his breath.

He rarely uses it, he knew he had almost a whole bottle left. He knows it. He checked it daily. It was filled this morning, he swears it! "FUCK!" he screamed out in frustration, his voice cracking as he angrily, falling back to sit down and lean his back against the wall.

His fingers tugging at his hair almost painfully, loud sobs coming out of his throat, tears cascading down his cheeks as his face turned red. He buried his knees to his chest and leaned his forehead against it to muffle his loud sobs in case Ten or Chenle came home.

"Fuck." he sobbed, his loneliness surrounding him as his eyes gazed at his soulmate mark for a split second. Y/N's innocent smile the other day flashing through his brain, making the poor boy sob harder.

On the other side of the wall, was Ten sitting down and burying his head in his arm that was sprawled across his knees. His other hand was stretched out emotionlessly, a bottles worth of sleeping pills scattered across his floor.

Ten had been told to go home after getting his ankle sprained from dancing. Ten was a profession dance teacher from a very high company. Teaching little kids and teenagers, sometimes adults, how to dance or help them with performances.

As Ten dragged himself across the hall, knowing that neither his brother nor his little cousin are home yet he was about to toss his back into his room but haulted when he saw Yangyang's door was slightly opened.

In a blink of an eye, Ten was in his room hoping to find something to tease his little brother with. Yangyang had been off for the past few months, barely talking, eating, or coming out of his room. He noticed that he started selling his furniture.

He looked around the almost empty room, boxes filled with Yangyang's clothing being the only thing there other than the carpeted floor. He spotted a small bottle in between the boxes, the sunset lighting the room and leading him to the small bottle.

Ten came closer and picked up the bottle to inspect it, his eyes widened at the label. 'Sleeping Pills'. Ten opened the bottle and saw that it was full but some of it was missing, indicating that Yangyang had used these.

The sound of the door opening attracted his attention, making Ten run out of the room immediately, closing the door quickly before running to his room as quiet and as fast as he possibly could as he heard loud footsteps echoing the hallway.

Ten heard shuffling and chaos in the room beside his, Yangyangs screams muffled by the thick walls. Ten could barely make out what he was saying. All he hear was muffled screaming and crying. Ten slowly sat on the floor, leaning his back against the wall as he opened the bottle, pills filling up the bottle to a brim with few missing. It's been used.

Ten wondered what's going on. Why does his brother have a bottle of pills? I mean, he has been acting really really sad lately and almost depressing but his brother couldn't possibly be thinking of killing himself right?

"FUCK," he heard a hoarse broken scream pierce through his ears. Ten felt like breaking down as he soon heard silence fill the room behind him, Yangyang must've calmed down. Ten should've gone to Yangyang and comfort him, but for some reason the guy couldn't move. How could he when he realised his brother was going to kill himself and he didn't notice a single sign?

"What?" Yangyang exclaimed in shock, swallowing the remaining contents of food in his mouth. "I said," Ten spoke, his eyes growing dark but his innocent smile stayed as he looked up from his food to his brother's startled gaze.

"Why did you fucking kill yourself?" Ten repeated nonchalantly. Yangyang avoided his brother's eyes, playing with his food with his spoon. "I-I..." he stammered, not knowing what to say as his heart began to feel heavy and sink down his stomach. "It wasn't a specific thing, really, but-" Yangyang stuttered out nervously before being cut off.

"I knew it," Ten banged his fist on the table, causing Yangyang to flinch at the sudden movement. "You were acting so weird lately, I knew something was up I just didn't know what! Your posters are all torn up, your room was empty, even your phone was out of service!" Ten stood up, tears lining in his eyes.

He grabbed the envelope and turned on the stove, the red fire making Yangyang's eyes widen. 'No, he fucking wouldn't.' Yangyang thought with wide eyes. "Promise me you won't kill yourself. Or this burns. Years and years of saving all this going down the drain." Ten spoke sternly.

Yangyang stared at him in disbelief, "what?" he blurted out. 'He wouldn't actually burn it right?' he thought before he saw Ten leaning the envelope closer to the fire. "Promise me you won't fucking kill yourself, dipshit! Promise me!" Ten choked out.

"Okay, okay! I'll stop trying to kill myself." Yangyang stood up abruptly, his voice filled with panic. His hands raised to silently tell Ten to not do anything crazy. "I'll stop trying to kill myself, really!" Yangyang exclaimed desperately, his heart feeling heavy.

"Say it like you fucking mean it!" Ten's voice almost broke. Yangyang put his hands down on the table and hung his head down, bowing slightly at his brother as his heart beated erratically in panic. "I'll stop trying to fucking kill myself. I won't do it ever again, I promise. I promise!" Yangyang exclaimed, keeping his tears in.

Ten sighed, trying to calm his breathing as he watched Yangyang try to hold his tears back. "Alright then." Ten put down the envelope on top of the fridge and turned off the stove, wiping his tears away as he sat back down on his chair.

Yangyang's eyes nervously fidgeted towards his brother as his self hatred grew deep down inside of him, slowly sitting down. "Listen Yangyang, if you ever feel down you know you can tell me." Ten spoke again after a moment of silence. "I don't ever want to walk into your room and find a bottle of sleeping pills lying around, ever again." he sighed.

"So you're the one who took them?" Yangyang mumbled, his mind growing darker. 'Another thing to worry Ten, great job, Yangyang.' he thought spitefully. "I put them back, as well." Ten responded, giving his little brother a small smile. "Come on, Yangyang. I know I've been quite busy lately but you can still talk to me bout your problems."

'You've got alot on your plate, I didnt want to burden you more than I already have.'

Yangyang bit his lip. "Thanks, Ten." he mumbled, sighing as he placed his fork and spoon down, crossing his arms on the table without meeting his eyes. "Okay..." Yangyang took a deep breath, 'here goes nothing.'

"Well. I think I found my soulmate."

#nct x reader #nct ten #nct angst #nct wayv #nct au #wayv au #wayv scenarios #wayv x reader #yangyang angst #wayv yangyang #nct yangyang #yangyang x reader #nct fanfic

[saharamae21]

Never Ran Smooth (Part 11)

Hey guys! Sorry there isn’t a lot of progression in this chapter, but I’m trying to keep the story on track with the episodes as much as I can! Thank you for all of the support! Also I am taking requests for imagines!

Warning: Mentions of Suicide

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If you pardon, we will mend.

I slipped into the cellar and was immediately horrified. It was filled with the cobb webbs and creepy antiques that haven’t been moved in years. There was no light, except for what was the filtering through the door we came through.

“Down came Mrs. Crain and cut off all our heads,” JJ sung behind me. “Up came the sun and dried up all the blood.”

“JJ!” I said, feeling a chill go down my spine.”

“Can you stop?” Pope said, searching for some source of water. We all rummaged around for a while. I watched as JJ picked up a doll and tossed it at me. I screamed and dodged it. I felt JJ’s hand cover my mouth and Pope’s head shot in my direction. “Savannah, shut up!”

“This is exactly why I didn't wanna tell you about Sarah,” I heard John snap at Kie. “What the hell's the deal with you two?”

“Nothing,” Kie said. I could sense the tension on her voice and walked over to support her.

“Nothing? Is it because I kissed you?” I listened to Kie gasp at John B. My heart sank for her. “Is that the problem?”

I watched as Kie reached up and slapped John B. She looked so hurt. “Stop treating me like I'm some girl that's obsessed with you instead of your best friend who's actually trying to look out for you.”

“Guys, maybe we should-” I tried to interject.

“Did you, uh... hit me?” John B asked. There was no stopping this. I watched as it escalated further and further. Then John hit her back. I stood in shock as they went back and forth hitting each other. Why are they acting like children?

“Hey. Help me move this,” Pope said as he started shuffling boards across the floor. We all helped him move stuff and below the floor boards contained a well. A well filled with water. They had built the house right over it.

“This is where she hid the bodies,” JJ said, causing me to hit him once again. He laughed at me and pulled me into a hug. “Don’t worry preppy, nothings going to get ya.”

I shoved him away and glanced around. Only Pope noticed us and JJ’s sudden affection towards me. I felt my face flush up. I shook my head and made my way out of the cellar. I have never felt more relieved in my life as the sun blinded my eyes.

We all went our separate ways not long after leaving the Crain house. Kie and Pope went back home, John went to the Cameron’s, leaving me and JJ. I looked at him while walking to my car.

“Where are you going?” he called out. He had a worried look on his face as I reached for the door.

“I don’t know,” I said. I couldn’t go home and I didn’t want to intrude on John’s house when he wasn’t even there.

“C’mon,” he said. He grabbed my hand and lead me over to his bike. We got on and I held onto him tightly. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as we took off. When we finally stopped, we were in front of a pretty beat up house. I felt JJ take my helmet of and shrug a little. “I know it’s not ideal, but my dad shouldn’t be home tonight, which means you can stay here.”

I smiled at his nervous rambling. The moonlight danced across his blonde hair and he looked so handsome. Slowly, I hopped of his bike and leaned up to place a kiss gently on his cheek. He blushed ever so slightly and rocked back and forth on his heels.

“Thank you for worrying about me,” I said and grabbed his hand in mine. We made our way inside and he gave me a quick tour. The house was in bad shape and smelled of alcohol, but it was JJ’s home, so I loved it. Finally, he opened up a door and his bedroom was inside. It was messy and kind of smelled of weed. I smiled and jumped onto his bed. The blankets smelled like him. “You getting comfortable? Let me know if you need anything,” he said, reaching for the door.

“Wait!” I said, reaching for him. “Stay with me.”

I felt him plop down next to me and pull me into his embrace. I could get used to being with him every second of the day…

The next day, we made our way back to the chateau for a group meeting. JJ dropped me off and then went back into town to pick up Pope. I knocked on the door and let myself in. Sitting on the couch in front of me was none other than Sarah Cameron.

“No,” I said with a laugh. “Are you kidding me?”

Kie walked in, right on time. We both looked at each other and rolled our eyes. Pope and JJ weren’t fair behind Kie.

“You brought her here? So what? She's in on this now?” Kie said. “This is our thing. A pogue thing.”

“I gotta say, I'm just a tad uncomfortable with all of this,” Pope said, shifting uncomfortably.

“When are you not?” John snapped back.

“I dunno. I rode here on the back of JJ's bike pretty comfortably,” Pope shot back.

“It's true. Most relaxed I've ever seen him,” JJ backed him up.

I felt the the tension grow in the room until Kie finally pulled the me or her card. I watched as she waiting for John B to pick her, but he just couldn’t. A decision between his best friend and his girlfriend wasn’t easy, so he decided to go for the hail mary and say both. I watched as Kie stormed out and I followed her.

“Kie!” I caught up to her on the deck and hugged her. She broke down. “He’s an idiot.”

JJ and Pope joined us soon after on deck. We all sat together and Kie opened up about why her and Sarah were mortal enemies. I listened carefully to her failed friendship with Sarah. As much as it broke my heart to see Kie like this, I felt like my reasons for hating Sarah were a little more intense. I felt JJ grab my hand and look at me.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, slipping a penny into my hand.

“I don’t want Sarah around,” I said carefully. I felt JJ’s eyes on me as I continued on. “When I was thirteen, I was under a lot of pressure. My dad expected me to do everything perfectly and it was beginning to affect my relationship with my brother. He really began to resent me for not making his life easier. As the year went on, my brother would tell me things like it would be better had I never been born. I know he didn’t mean it, but at thirteen everything is taken personally. I took a lot of sleeping pills and went to bed to bed that night and the next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital. All I wanted was for things to go back to normal when I got home, but my brother told Rafe about my suicide attempt, who told Sarah. And Sarah told our entire school...”

“Jesus, Savannah,” JJ said pulling me into his chest. I wrapped my arms around his torso laid my head against his chest. His heart beat steadily his chest and it soothed me a little bit. I felt good to finally get that off of my chest without any judgement. The guys headed back inside, leaving me and Kie to hang out. “So, you’re finally mackin’ JJ?” she asked me with a sad smile. At this point, I would talk about anything to get her mind off of John B.

“Well, it just kind of happened,” I said, a small smile coating my face. She told me she was happy for me and asked if I wanted to come hang out at her house. I smiled and agreed.

I never knew how much Kie and I had in common until I stayed the night at her place. I can’t remember the last time I laughed this much. She was the only Kook I’ve ever met who told me it was okay to be less than perfect. We stayed up and stared at the sky, pointing out constellations together. We talked about everything, even the sad stuff. We laughed and we cried and I loved every second of it. When Pope showed up the next day, I knew something was up. He pulled the HMS Pogue right up the deck and said he needed us both to come look at the boat. There was something wrong with the alternator and JJ had gotten hurt while trying to fix it. I was skeptical, but as soon as I hear JJ’s groans of pain, everything went out the window. Kie jumped aboard to look at the plugs and I ran to get the first aid kit, but then I hear something hit the water. I looked back and saw the boys swimming over to Pope, leaving us on the boat with no way out.

“John B!” I heard someone yell. There was banging from a storage spot beneath the boat. “John B, let me out!”

I lifted up the hatch to find Sarah Cameron trapped beneath.

“Are you joking?” Kie screamed at the boys. “Get your asses back here!”

“We can't. Not till you guys figure it out,” John B yelled back. “There's food in the cabin, and JJ rolled a blunt.”

This was my nightmare.

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Tag List : @jjmaybangme

#jj imagine #outer banks jj #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #jj #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fanfic #outer banks imagine #kie outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #kie obx #obx netflix #obx jj #ob #jj obx imagine #jj maybank obx #sarah obx #obx #sarah cameron #john b obx #John #John b #pope #pope heyward #kie #fanfic #imagine

[cuttingthe-painter]

Cephin - Fae Boyfriend

Tumblr mobile deleted everything so I am reposting.

Hello everyone! This story is something I’ve been working on that is very person and special to me. Writing it has been incredibly hard, but has also helped me work through some of my own emotional struggles. I hope you enjoy!

Also my apologies for there being more story than romance in this fic, but I am working on part 2! let me know if you are interested in my posting it!

fae!boyfriend x human 

tw: angst, mentions death, mentions suicide, grief ((please let me know if I missed any TWs and I will add them))

word count: 3315

The days seemed colder without her. Longer and darker and empty. Vivian had been heaven; no matter where she went, she radiated happiness and it was contagious. She was contagious. Her radiant smile, her airy laugh always able to bring you happiness when you couldn’t find it yourself. That’s what she did; she came into your life and taught you no bad situation is ever truly bad, there is always some good to be found. Maybe that’s why this was so hard. How could she help you find the good when she was the bad situation? When she was the reason you couldn’t leave your bed? 

It’s been less than a week since you stood silently and watched as your best friend was lowered into the ground. Less than a week since you stood around Vivian’s grave with the small group of her friends and coworkers, not a family member in sight. You squeezed your eyes shut, letting hot tears fall across your face, soaking your pillow further. The funeral played through your memories, a nightmare that you couldn’t wake up from. 

It had been beautiful out that day; warm rays blanketed your body while you stood graveside, as if the universe was taunting you. It was sticking its finger in your face and gloating about stealing the only light in your life. That day had been the only time the sun made an appearance during the last two weeks of rain. Was that a good omen or a cruel joke? A reminder that if you had just listened to her, had checked in on her, she would still be here?  

You couldn’t cry at the funeral. You had stood there, listening to the quiet sobs around you, wondering why your own tears refused to fall. The pain in your chest had been so tight, so restricting, you thought it would cave in on itself. You couldn’t feel your legs as you walked forward to give the eulogy. You couldn’t feel your hands as you dropped a handful of dirt over the casket.   

You stayed behind when everyone left, falling to your knees near the headstone. Cool granite scratched your fingers as you traced the words. In Loving Memory of Vivian Pacini, Your Light Will Shine Forever. You couldn’t breathe; the air had grown heavier the longer you read the words. Salty tears burned your eyes, rolling off your cheeks and falling to the loose ground beneath you. All you felt was pain constricting your heart and tears burning your eyes, punishing you for the light you let extinguish. You hung your head, folding into yourself as guttural sobs ripped through your body. 

You don’t know how long you cried; the sun was setting when your tears ran dry. A crow sat in a tree a few plots down from you, cawing loud enough to echo through the cemetery. You watched it. Watched as its body tensed with each cry, as if it also felt your pain. It stopped its harsh cries and tilted its head in your direction before flying off. You stood, taking that as your sign to leave, and went home to your bed.  

You’ve been here ever since, only leaving your bed to take care of your basic needs. Your phone rarely lit up the past few days. Work only called a few times, but you let it ring to voicemail each time. Vivian was the only one whose calls you wanted to answer. Whose texts you wanted to read. You sat up and grabbed your phone , looking at the time. 11:30 am, Wednesday. Wednesday. Wednesday. She died last Wednesday.    

You both met every Wednesday for lunch; a ritual you had shared for years. Neither of you had missed a single Wednesday lunch since you first met. They were sacred, a pillar of your friendship. Last Wednesday had been the one and only time Vivian had asked to cancel. She wouldn't tell you why and you were mad.  

Your phone had lit up, Vivian’s name flashing across the screen. You were huddled under your umbrella, trudging through the relentless downpour towards the cafe you both always met at. You stepped to the side, taking momentary shelter under an entryway, and answered. 

“Hey Viv! What’s up?” you asked, yelling over the sounds of the street. You couldn’t hear much through the phone besides Vivian’s breathing. 

“Hey,” Vivian greeted, an emotion you couldn’t place dominating her tone. “I was calling to ask if we could maybe take a rain check for this week's lunch?”  

“A rain check? I’m already almost there,” you griped, “we’re supposed to meet in 10 minutes, Viv!”  

“I know, I know. But something came up.” You interrupted her with a heavy, exaggerated sigh. She hesitated before continuing, “Look, I know it's inconvenient, but I need you to understand. It’s important.” Anger and confusion battled in you, fighting over who would get to make an appearance on the call. You took a moment before blowing out a slow breath to steady yourself. She asked you to understand. She said it’s important. But it’s Wednesday. 

“We don’t cancel Wednesdays, Viv,” you stated, voice even and firm. “What’s more important than our Wednesdays?” She was silent; only static came through the phone for a long minute.  

“I can’t tell you, not yet. I’m just asking you to understand,” she pleaded, her voice quick and desperate. She cleared her throat when she stopped talking and the line went silent again. Maybe she was sick? She doesn’t get sick often, but that might be why she’s canceling? 

“Are you sick? I can get food to go and head to your- “  

“No,”  she snapped. It seems that she was the angry one now, even though she was the one canceling Wednesday lunch. “I’m not coming. You can either choose to understand or be angry. But I’m not coming and you aren’t coming here.” Your anger beat confusion in the battle and sent heat through your body, burning your cheeks and ears.  

“Fine!” You snapped, “Just ruin our Wednesday, whatever. I hope you have fun doing whatever it is that’s more important than our lunch.” You knew you were being unreasonable; she had asked nicely to begin with and swore it was important. You just can’t understand why she can’t tell you. Is she spending the day with someone else? A new friend who outranked you?  You yanked the phone away from your ear, ready to hang up. 

“I love you.” You barely heard her say it before you clicked end. She sounded how you felt, broken and rejected. You wanted to call her back and apologize, but you couldn’t swallow your pride. It was rare for you two to fight and whenever it did happen, it was over almost immediately after it started. You typed a quick ‘I love you but I’m still mad at you’ text and sent it to her before putting your phone up and walking back to your apartment. If only you had gone to hers. 

You pull yourself from the memory and stand; you weren’t going to let yourself miss another Wednesday. You might get there late, but dammit, you were going to get there. You pull on a pair of jeans from the floor and a hoodie draped over your desk chair. In the kitchen, you packed a quick lunch. With a sandwich, chips, and water packed in a bag, you walk out the door and towards the cemetery.  

A crow sits perched on a tree guard in front of your apartment building. Its head tilts to the side, watching you walk down the stairs. You hesitate on the last step and stare at the crow, thinking back to the one that had been watching you at Viv’s funeral. The crow’s body shakes with a hoarse coo, pulling you from your memories. You smile at the bird and continue down the sidewalk. As you reach the end of the road and turn, you hear wings flapping behind you. The crow breezes past your head and lands on a lamppost up ahead, its eyes fixed on you once again.  

It continues like this the rest of the walk to the cemetery; every time you are nearly out of the bird’s line of sight, it flies ahead and watches the next portion of your walk. Once in the cemetery, you sit next to Vivian’s headstone and watch as the crow settles onto the same branch where you first saw it. While its constant gaze on you was unusual, it filled you with an odd sense of comfort. 

The ground beneath you was damp and you felt the wetness seep through the seat of your jeans. If you had been thinking, you would have brought a blanket to sit on. But you weren’t thinking. All you knew is that it was Wednesday and you were late for your weekly lunch. You pull your sandwich out and sigh shakily. All you want is to hear her voice again. To hear her bubbly laughter. To see her sitting across from you with that vibrant smile across her face. That vibrant smile that had been so fake. How long had she been faking it? Hiding how she really felt behind that screen of happiness?  

Grief clenches its wicked hand over your throat as anger burns your eyes. How could you not have known? You knew her better than you had known yourself. Or so you had thought. That liquid rage burns down your cheeks, falling to the earth that blanketed your best friend. In the distance, a gravely caw sounds and pulls your attention to the tree. The crow stills when your gaze lands on it. Somehow, when you and the crow look at each other, you don’t feel quite as alone. 

You look down to your sandwich and pick at the bread, tossing it in the direction of the tree. The crumbs don’t land as far from you as you want, but the crow doesn’t seem to mind. It jumps from the branch and flies down to the bread, only a few feet away from you. It watches you cautiously as it pecks at the crumbs. You eat your sandwich as the bird works at the crumbs. When the bird finishes eating, you expect it to fly away. To your surprise, it just settles down into the grass and watches you more. 

Your new crow friend sits there the whole afternoon. It doesn’t move when others walk past the site. It doesn’t move when your sorrowful whispers to Vivian turn to inconsolable sobs. It only moved to fly alongside you when you began to journey home. Every following Wednesday when you went to have lunch with Vivian, the crow was outside your apartment waiting to join you.  

You wake in a cold sweat one night, images of your dream still flashing through your head. Vivian throwing her head back in a loud laugh. Vivian sprawled on her living room floor. Vivian’s whispering to you, eyes full of mischief. Vivian’s empty eyes staring at you as you push through her front door. Vivian furiously scribbling a note in your seminar before folding it and passing it to you. An envelope propped up on Vivian’s living room table, your name written across it.  

You ran from your bed, dropping to your knees in the bathroom and spilling the contents of your stomach out into the toilet. When you’re finally done heaving, you wipe your mouth before standing and brushing your teeth. The images continue replaying in your head, taunting you. Reminding you that you were supposed to help her. To save her. And you didn’t. The unopened envelope pushes to the forefront of your mind now. You stalk to the kitchen and grab it off the counter holding it furiously in front of you. You glare at it, wishing your gaze could set fire to the damn thing.  

Why did she have to write you a letter? Why couldn’t she have just talked to you? Told you how she felt to your face? Maybe then it would have felt easier to forgive her. To forgive yourself. You didn’t want to read this alone. You wanted her here with you, comforting you through it. Before you could think, you were pulling on shoes and a jacket before rushing out the door. 

The streets were empty at night. There were no sounds of passing cars or chatting friends to distract you on your walk. There was no crow joining you, guarding you, on your walk. The cemetery was dark, the lampposts that were there were scattered and didn’t cover the whole area. You don’t need light to find her grave, the path to it was engraved in your memory. You let yourself crumple when you made it to her, your knees sinking into the soft earth and head hanging forward. 

“Why did you have to do this?” you sobbed. “I just want you back. I just want to be able to forgive you.” You know it's time to read her letter. You know that, yet you can’t bring yourself to tear it open. To pull it out and unfold it. Minutes pass before your shaking hands begin tearing open the envelope. You pull out the letter and almost choke when the smell of roses wafts up to you. Of course it had to smell like her. You blink away the threat of fresh tears before you start reading. 

To my best friend-

 I’m so very sorry. Please know that what I’ve done had nothing to do with you. I’ve always felt so empty. So cold. I can’t take it anymore. I hope you know how much I love you. Please forgive me.  

Viv 

Tears dripped from your cheeks, staining the page smudging the ink. She had written so little, yet it was enough to crack your heart. To shatter it into a thousand little pieces. How had you never known? How had you not been able to see behind her facade? Your body trembled, silent sobs ripping through you. A familiar cooing wasn’t enough to stop the sobs, but had you looking up to find where your friend sat.  

The crow dove from the tree, gliding towards you. Its wings began to extend, smoking out from its body. Curling through the air around it. The jet black smoke continued coiling, spreading out until all you saw was an opaque, inky cloud in front of you. Without thinking, you extend your hand to touch it. It was too far away but you need to touch it. To know you weren’t losing your mind. You lean forward, extending your fingers as far as you can. A pale gray hand reaches out towards your own, its cool fingers grazing against your skin. You instantly recoil, clutching your hand to your chest while trying to steady your breathing. 

“Please don’t be afraid,” a gravelly voice murmured from the dark cloud. The smoke began to retreat into itself, forming into a crouched figure. Before you knelt a man. Or what appeared to be a man. His pale, gray skin was contrasted by his dark, ornate clothes and a cloak that blanketed around him. Long arms were pulled tightly into his figure, one still reaching forward to you. His face was sharp, all angles, framed by black hair that fell to his shoulders. You have to remind yourself to breathe when you look into his eyes. Pitch black eyes stared back at you. Eyes that you had been staring at for months. 

 “That’s impossible,” you choke out, frozen in place as he slowly moves to you. 

“Maybe so,” he whispered. “I suppose it is not common for your world.” Your world? What does he mean your world? 

“Who are you? What are you?” you manage to ask, watching as his hands settle onto his lap. He was less than a foot away from you now, close enough for you to reach out and touch.  

“My name is Cephin.” 

“Why are you here, Cephin,” you demand, anger and impatience building up in your chest. A soft smile settles on his as he watches you. 

“I am a guide. A caretaker.”  

“What does that mean? How does that explain why you’re here?” His short answers were wearing your patience thin. How dare he interrupt you now? When you were so close to understanding why Vivian was gone? 

“I take care of those who are broken. Those who are lost. Those who are ready to leave your world and step into mine. I was here to guide your dear friend. I had finished and was ready to take my leave but I saw that you needed guidance just as much as your friend.” 

“I don’t want to die,” you rushed you, falling backwards and scooting away from him. 

Your hands slipped on the dewy ground and fell out from under you; the ground connecting with your back knocked the air from your lungs. Cephin moved forwards to lean over you, a look of understanding set on his face. 

“I know this, my dear. But you want to understand. I can help you.” His smile was so warm, so welcoming. He reached out, offering you a hand. You grabbed it, noting how cool his skin was against yours. When you were sitting, he pulled his hand from your grasp. 

“How?” you asked, defeated. “Can you bring her back? Can you send me back in time so I can stop her?” 

“No.” He shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. “But I can explain to you how everything works. I can show you that you have done nothing wrong. I can show you her. Show you that she is okay. Death is inevitable, my dear, and nothing you could have done would have prevented this outcome.” You believed him. You don’t know how, but you knew he was telling you the truth.  

“Show me then.” He gave a curt nod before moving closer to cup your face in his hands. The moment his palms connected with your face, everything went cold, as if life itself drained from your body.  Behind him, the world fell away and was replaced by darkness. You never broke your gaze, his dark eyes being the only thing reminding you this was real. That you are real. And then you heard it. An excited, breathy voice followed by bubbly laughter that made your heart wrench. 

“Look,” Cephin whispered, turning your face with his hands. You saw Vivian, sitting with a man made of sunshine. He resembled Cephin in build, but was his opposite in all other aspects. Dark, honey skin complimented by flowy white robes and long russet hair fell down his spine. Glowing white eyes stared at Vivian, who held his hand in her own.  Cephin turned your face back to his too soon. You tried to look back to Viv, but he held your face firmly. The world he showed you slipped away and you were back in the quiet cemetery.  

“Was that real?” you whispered, grabbing his hands with your own. 

“It was,” he assured. His hands adjusted around yours, lacing your fingers together.“That is my world. You see, there are some people who were not made for this world. They never feel as if they fit in with this life. So then we come and we guide them to the world they belong in. “ 

“But what about me? Life hurts without her; it is so cold and lonely. My heart is broken, Cephin.”  

“Then we fix it.” He brought your joined hands to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles. 

“How do you fix something you can’t touch?” He stopped, pressing kisses to your hand, and looked up to you, a sad smile on his lips. 

“I am not sure, but we will find a way." 

[ let me know if you are interested in a Part 2!]

#fae boyfriend #exophilia #exophile #monster boyfriend #fae x reader #monster x reader #angst #coping with grief #grief #tw: death #tw: suicide #tw: mentions of death #tw: mentions of suicide #monster lover #my writing #long fic #my fic

[myhauntedsalem]

13 True Horror Stories from the Psychiatric Ward that Will Give You the Creeps

Death, illness and tragedy have long been part of the history of insane asylums, and for as long as they have existed, so too have the scary stories associated with them. From haunted hospitals to sadistic doctors and nurses, psychiatric wards have been the inspiration for many of our favorite horror movies and books. Yet, the true stories told by the psych ward workers below far surpass any horrors that we might have seen at the cinema or read in a book.

Without further ado, here are thirteen of some of the creepiest psych ward stories on the internet that have been shared by health care professionals.

1. Holding her own Eyes

My mom told me this story from her time at a neuropsychiatric ward while she was in grad school. She was making her routine room checks and happened upon the most horrific scene I’ve ever heard.

This was during the night shift, and generally, all the patients’ bedroom doors should be closed. So my mom turned a corner and noticed an open door. She saw a staff member’s legs on the floor, halfway out the doorway.

When she looked into the room, she saw the patient, a woman with a severe postpartum psychiatric disorder, who had just gouged both of her own eyes out with her bare hands. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding her eyes in her hands.

The first staff member to witness the scene, who was now lying face down on the floor, had a heart attack when he first witnessed the woman while he was making his rounds.

My mom screamed for help and frantically tried to perform CPR on the staff member. All the while, the woman just sat rather calmly, holding her own eyes.

2. The Saw

I work as a psychotherapist in a hospital system. My definition of creepy is probably quite a bit different from other medical professionals.

The one that got to me the most was a patient who came to us after attempting suicide by sawing both his arms off at the forearm with a table saw. His arms were reattached, fairly successfully too, with only limited impairments in mobility. All I could think was how bad it would have to be to live in his head that sawing his arms off seemed better than that.

He has since completed suicide.

3. Jane?

We had a young lady in our custody with quite a few issues. We’ll call her Jane. Jane’s first night at our facility staff doing a bed check found Jane in a puddle of blood. Turns out Jane had been slicing the skin around her shin with her finger nails and was pulling her skin up her leg, essentially de-gloving her calf.

Jane also had a ritual she performed every night before bed. While in her room she would run between walls in her room touching them in a crucifix pattern. After doing this for a few hours she would sit on her bed and go to sleep. This particular night Jane was frantic in her pace, practically running between walls. Our night staff observed the entire interaction and reported Jane screaming late into the night. When the staff went to check on Jane she reported Jane standing in the doorway smiling. The staff asked what was wrong and Jane replied, “what makes you think you are speaking to Jane?”

4. The Vampire

My mom worked in mental institutions in her younger years (and actually worked at a large, well-known asylum before it was shut down.)

There was one woman there that thought she was a vampire of sorts. She was only allowed out one hour a day, and they had to use safety precautions. She had already attacked and killed at least one hospital worker before these were enacted.

When my Mom asked about her, it was revealed that she had killed at least two of her children, wounded another as well as her husband because she had some sort of physical condition called Porphyria, which apparently made her crave blood.

By the time that they discovered there was something physically wrong with her, she already had lost her mind from guilt and grief.

5. The Spitter

I’m not a psychologist but my friend is. She told me about a patient of hers who was HIV positive and a paranoid schizophrenic. He thought that the nurses who worked at the hospital he was in were trying to kill him, so he would frequently bite his tongue, and spit HIV positive blood into their faces/mouths. When they had to come into contact with him, they were required to wear full masks and gloves.

6. The Only One

I once knew a woman who had spent part of her residency at a psychiatric hospital for people with severe mental conditions. Apparently, the grounds had a lovely, enclosed greenhouse. One day, one of their schizophrenic patients was sitting on a bench, smoking a cigarette, as a heron frantically flew around. It had found its way in and, not being able to escape, it was smashing into the large panes of glass. The man just sat there watching.

Finally, my counselor asked him if the bird was bothering him and he kind of sighed and said, “Thank god, I thought I was the only one seeing that.”

7. Family Photographs

My sister is the director of a psychiatric hospital. There was recently a lady there who would cut her arms, legs and torso open and place photographs of her family under her skin.

8. Under the Bed

Once, a fellow female patient told me she found writings under her bed. They were just old, small wooden bed frames with hard mattresses that would make all kinds of noises when you rolled over, but I still wondered what exactly she was doing lying under her bed to find these writings.

When she first told me, I thought it was a joke. But sure enough, one day during group we managed to sneak away, and she showed me. Indeed, there were stories written under her bed. After that, we had everyone check under their own beds, and there was more writing under every single bed.

They were stories of patients who had stayed here before, or ways they were planning on killing themselves, or who the good and bad nurses were. It creeped me out.

9. Time of Death

Well, my mother was a nurse that specialized in geriatrics, and she worked for several hospice hospitals for many years. She often described situations at her work with several of the patients. She would say that each person tends to have a very similar “checklist” that they follow right before death. This checklist often ended in a very similar way.

They would get caught talking to someone that wasn’t there. When asked who they (otherwise lucid people) were talking to, they would describe an individual who was already dead. When asked what they were talking about, they would say that their relative wanted to know if they were ready to move on. A pretty common response would be, “Yeah, he/she said that she will take me tomorrow at 3:00.” Well, it would often happen that they would die at the exact time their relatives quoted.

10. The Test Subject

I had an hour-long conversion with a delusional guy who was confined to a mental health facility, and who was probably smarter than I am. Lots of these folks believe that somebody – often the CIA – is either beaming thoughts into their heads, or has implanted a microchip in their brains for this purpose. This guy was offering a very thoughtful argument as to why such claims should not be so quickly dismissed.

“It’s precisely because such delusions are so common that mental patients make the best test subjects,” he said. There he was, confined and protected, constantly observed, his health and behavior documented, and there is zero chance that anyone would ever take his concerns seriously. How else would you test and improve such technology? Does the government not have a strong motivation and a plausible ability to create such a device?

“You can see I’m not irrational,” the man said. “I’m just straight-up telling you that they are doing this to me. I know just how unbelievable it sounds, and yet, here I am.”

11. The Boy who Loved Knives

As a tech in psych years ago, there was a 7-year-old kid sent to the floor because the mom didn’t know what to do with him. Sadly, common thing to happen, even if the kids don’t have psych issues. Anyway, the mom was shaking and crying, and they had to take the kid into another room. She was genuinely afraid of her own son. She had suspected something was wrong when she kept finding mutilated animals in the backyard, but never heard or saw coyotes or anything around. The neighbors smaller pets started disappearing. The boy had an obsession with knives, hiding them around the house. Denying anything when the mom confronted him. Then when the two started getting into arguments, he would get really violent and hit her, push her down and kick her, threaten to kill her. On multiple occasions she woke up in the middle of the night with him standing beside her bed, staring her in the face. She put extra locks on her bedroom door to feel safe while she slept. The last straw was when she lifted up his mattress and found 50+ knives of all shapes and sizes under there. So she brought him to us.

I remember talking to him, treating him like he was just any other kid that came through. He seemed remarkably normal, until you spoke directly to him. He had this way of looking right through you, or maybe like he didn’t see you at all while you were speaking.

He would respond like a robot, like he was just saying words because that’s what we wanted to hear. And he would always put on this creepy, dead-looking smile. Like all mouth and no eye involvement in the smile. Especially when he would get away with something, like taking another kid’s markers and they couldn’t figure it out. Still gives me chills laying here thinking about him.

I believe I met a 7-year-old psychopath.

12. The New Mom

I was a pharmacy technician at a hospital with a psych ward for some time. We would have to go around with a cart and dispense the patients’ medications, and being a 5’2″ girl, a security guard or male nurse would accompany me, just as a precaution. I never had any real issues other than the occasional death grip onto my arm or manic outbursts, but there was one boy who was entirely different.

His chart said he was nine and he had pale skin, dark hair, and huge bright, green eyes. He always greeted me in the most polite way, asked how I was doing, and always found something different to compliment me on every time. He was extremely well-spoken and mature for his age, so I began looking forward to seeing him, as normal small talk is definitely cherished in that setting. If he saw me outside of his room in the halls, he made sure to say hello and always called me “Miss Jones” or “ma’am.”

One day, a couple of our female nurses saw me pause to chat with him in the hallway, and waved me over to ask if I was out of my mind. Apparently, when he was in kindergarten, he grew an intense attachment to his young female teacher.

This escalated to the point of him calling her “Mom” and leaving notes for her about how he wished he were her son. He had a normal home-life with both parents, and the teacher tried to explain to him that she couldn’t be his mom because that would hurt his real mother’s feelings, and that she already had that job covered.

So, he went home and, killed his own mother in her sleep by cutting her throat, so his teacher could be his mom. The female staff had a general rule of not interacting with him excessively to prevent any kind of attachment from forming.

13. Bugs

Nothing I can say can possibly describe the year I worked in Psychiatric Intensive Care. Creepy isn’t the thing that comes to mind when I think back on it…more heartbreaking and horrifying. But creepiness was a part of it. Especially evening and night shifts, naturally.

There is always something disturbing about watching someone while they hallucinate. You can tell it is 100% real to them, and something about that makes you believe it, on some level. A lot of stories end with, “and of course, I had to look over my shoulder to make sure”. You see the emotions it brings out.

There was a woman that came in and sat down across the table from me for her admission interview. She had bandages all over her arms and scotch tape over her mouth and ears. She looked very uncomfortable and wouldn’t really sit still. When the nurse would ask her a question, she would peel the corner of the tape back and answer, then stick the tape back on really fast.

We eventually found out that she saw and felt bugs crawling all over her, and they were trying to get inside her body. The tape was to keep the bugs out. The bandages were because some bugs got in and she had to dig them out. She couldn’t sit still because she felt the bugs all over her even while we sat and talked. The worst part was, she had some idea that it was her mind playing tricks on her. Can you imagine going through your life, feeling like someone is continuously dumping buckets of cockroaches on your head, feeling like they’re all over you and getting inside of you to the point that you’re digging chunks out of your flesh in a panic, all while knowing intellectually that none of it is real?

#13 True Horror Stories from the Psychiatric Ward that Will Give You the Creeps #shared stories #paranormal #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits #haunted salem #myhauntedsalem

[justanotherlifeff]

April 11 2316

Thursday

Musutafu, Japan

You were sitting with Kaminari in the bus that was taking you to USJ. The day was going on as normally as possible, with you drooling over Bakugou and Kaminari cursing his fate since no one drools over him. After the media broke into UA only a day before, Iida was made the class rep by Midoriya and honestly, you supported the green haired kid's decision back then. However, after Iida started spewing bullshit over getting into the bus in lines, you just weren’t sure anymore. Sure, you knew that the raven haired boy was extremely uptight about rules but seriously? Who the hell makes lines in high school? Then again, Yaoyorozu controlled the situation so you weren’t complaining.

After reaching USJ, you were awestruck by the huge training grounds. "Damn it really is like the universal Studios..." you wondered. Pro hero Thirteen's speech was a blur to you since you were too busy looking around. That was until you saw something strange happening in the middle of USJ. A portal opened and the person coming out first shocked you. Flashes of memories went past your head. Sitting in the basement with him. Him convincing your parents to let you out with him for a while… You knew him for years, ever since you could remember. He was the reason you were sane for all those years. Shigaraki Tomura was someone who you considered to be as good as family. As good as your older brother. The portal guy was different from you. His portals were dark while your portals were colorless.

Time seemed to stand for you as Aizawa went to fight the other villains while you stared at Tomura. You knew that he was smirking from behind that hand on his face. You knew him way more than you wanted to. The wrap gate suddenly came behind the group you were with talking about their motives to kill All Might. When he finally unleashed his power, it was clear to you that his portal was stronger than yours. Most importantly, you had to talk to Tomura. Trying to kill All Might was a suicide plan. While you hated all villains, Tomura was an exception. Villain or not, he was your aniki, he saved you from yourself.

“Aniki. What the hell are you doing here?” Shigaraki Tomura heard a familiar voice behind him. Looking back, he saw the levitating figure of his old friend. “Hello brat. Missed me?” he answered, his voice telling you that he indeed was smirking.

Date: Unknown

Musutafu, Japan

You were sitting in your room with your back against the wall, your leg cuffed to the wall. You held no emotions on your face. You weren’t allowed to. You doubted your own existance sometimes, specially after the experiments. It hurt at first but now, you just felt numb. Every time they forced you to feel emotions, forced you to unleash your power, you felt nothing. It hurt at first. Your whole body felt like it was burning. The pain was unbearable. Then they started the experiments. As far as you could remember, they were always doing it and suddenly, something inside you broke and you never felt pain again. Not while you were using your powers. It happened everyday. Your back was full of deep cuts. They never gave you time to heal. It started with putting nails on your back. They didn’t stop even when you were screaming, trying to break out of their grasp. Your powers weren’t working as you didn’t feel any emotion. Your mother manipulated you into not feeling anything. All you felt was pain before you collapsed. It happened everyday. Burn marks, cuts, bruises… your body was battered entirely. You wanted to believe you weren’t real. None of it was real. The door to the room opened and Tomura walked in. A small smile formed on your face. This was the only thing you allowed yourself to believe as real. “Oi brat. We are going out today. Get dressed.” he told you. It hurted to move but you’d do anything for him.

You remembered the first time you met him. You don’t know how long it has been since that day. You lost all hope on getting out of this place. You stopped feeling pain or emotions not too long ago. You were becoming a mindless zombie, exactly what All for one never intended you to be. That’s when Tomura came into the scene. He just entered your room and sat there silently for an entire day. All you did was watch him. You were waiting for him to take you to the experiment room. That’s the only place you were taken to after all. Then he came back again the next week. Then the one after. About a month passed before you asked him, “Won’t we go to the experiment room?”. You were surprised when he told you that you weren’t going there. The emotion made the light bulb in your room shatter. He didn’t flinch at that. “We need to get that in control. That doesn’t mean you would stop feeling things. The master wanted you to be able to think.” he answered. After that, you talked. You played games together. The day he taught you to play on a console, you were excited enough to almost break every glass object in the entire building. Tomura calmed you down though. He always managed to calm you down.

“Aniki, would you kill my parents? You are stronger than them right? I can’t take this anymore.” you told him one day, your voice barely a whisper. You despised them. You wanted them to die, to leave you alone. “I will kill them. But you need to be stronger first. You need to control your quirk first. Be better than both of them and then killing them won’t affect us villains too much.” Tomura answered. You had a new found hope of escaping this fate. Things got better when Tomura got the permission to take you out. You were excited. More excited than ever. Tomura, again managed to calm you. His bored voice always calmed you down. He was your hope towards a better life. Your best friend. Your aniki. What you didn’t know was that this was training too.

At the moment, you levitated slightly, four men levitating infront of you. The first time, there was one. It increased with time. Suddenly, the men exploded, splattering the entire place with blood. Their pleas to let them go disappeared in an instant. You looked at Tomura with hopeful eyes. “I did well didn’t I, aniki? I can replace my parents now can’t I?” you asked. “Look, Nomu…” he started. He never called you that. He always called you a brat. You were confused. “I can’t kill your parents. The more villain there is, the better it is for us. You are stronger than them and I’m proud of you but you still have a lot of potential. Just tolerate the experiments for a while and then I’ll make sure they won’t hurt you again.” he told you. You could sense his emotions. He was just bored. Your emotional manipulation was getting stronger by the day. You knew that he didn’t feel sorry for you. You knew that he wouldn’t take you out of that place. While everything the two of you went through together for so long was genuine, he was not going to save you. You lost the hope of escaping yet again that day until it was ignited once more by All Might holding out his hand.

April 11 2316

Thursday

Musutafu, Japan

“Hello Brat. Missed me?” you heard him ask. “This is a suicide mission, aniki. Villain or not, you were my family first. You saved me before and I want to return the favour. Don’t go after All Might.” you answered. “Huh? Look at you… You go by (L/N) now don’t you? You, in a hero school? The first time I heard of it, I was laughing like crazy. A girl who exploded people to bits going to a hero school? What a joke! Seems like you didn’t change too much anyway. You killed your parents didn’t you? Anyone with common sense would know that All Might wouldn’t kill anyone. Now you want me to escape instead of capturing me like a good little hero. You really didn’t change, brat.” Tomura told you gleefully. You didn’t fail to notice the strange villain with his brains showing standing beside Tomura. “I’m done, aniki. You wouldn’t have saved me. I just took the side of the ones who did. I don’t want to fight you. Just get out of here.” you told him. “Oh? Right, right… I see… Well, in that case, let’s fight. I hate heroes you know. They piss me off. You know that better than anyone else. Oi, brat, I still don't understand why you did this. I told you that I'd save you so don't give me that excuse. Or do you just enjoy betraying people's trust huh?” Tomura glared at you. He never looked so angry before. “I don’t want to talk about it.” you answered as the day when you decided to betray the villains, betray Tomura came back to your mind to give a sudden pang at your heart. “ You can still come back you know. Since you are so good at betraying everyone, why don't you do the same with the shitty heroes? You know, for once I don't feel bad for you. You deserved everything that your parents did to you.” Tomura continued to glare at you. It was getting harder for you to keep control on your quirk as the trauma from your past was getting to you. “Shut the fuck up.” you muttered, anger clear on your voice. “So you’re angry now. Why don’t you do everyone a favour and blow up all those hero trainees from your class? That used to make you happy back then.” with that Tomura hit the last straw.

You felt your power flow through you. There was no supressing it now. Your head was going foggy. "Who's the student in class with anger issues?" your mind asked itself. An image of the angry explosive gremlin shot through your head. “What does Bakugo do every time he feels something he doesn’t like?” your mind spoke to you. “He channels his emotions.” you answered yourself. You had been taking notes on how his emotions work with your quirk since he was an interesting person and you had a thing for him. “What should I do with a power that I can’t supress?” your mind started to work it out. “I will try to channel the power into doing what I want it to do instead of trying to supress it.” your mind solved the problem. The ground shook as the concrete from the road was being pulled upwards, levitating with you yourself. Your nerves were turning blue faster than usual. Your head throbbed in pain but you still were conscious. You couldn’t supress the huge jolt of power flowing through you but you could control it’s actions. You could do one huge attack and get the extra power surging in yourself out. After that, you knew that you can’t do any more than teleporting and floating. The road broke within a 40 meter radius around her as the concrete blocks, as well as huge lumps of soil levitated upwards before shooting right at Shigaraki Tomura. What you didn’t expect was having every single piece of debris blown to pieces in an unbelievable speed by the strange villain that was standing beside Tomura. “You have gotten stronger. But look, that’s our new Nomu. He can’t think like you could so he wouldn’t leave the villain league. He also can use his powers to a full extent unlike you. You have no chance against him as he is designed to fight All Might.” Tomura bragged. You knew that being near them was going to cause more harm than good. You had no chance against that Nomu. Without a second thought, you opened a portal to aid Thirteen and the others who weren’t teleported away.

When you reached them, Thirteen was asking Iida to inform teachers about the situation outside USJ. “Just like in the Cafeteria, we can provide all the support you need! And we will!” Uraraka encouraged him. Iida looked at you and said, “(L/N), teleport me outside. It’s easier that way isn’t it?”. “No, his wrap is stronger. He may create another portal overlapping mine and send you somewhere else. We can’t take that risk ” you explained. When it came to battle, your mind worked impressively. But when it came to maths…. Well, there was no helping you. “Aside from the fact that you have no hope, what sort of fool discusses strategy in earshot of the enemy?” the wrap asked getting ready to attack. “It hardly matters if you overheard. You can’t stop us!” Thirteen answered before attacking. However, he made a portal before any of them could react which caused Thirteen to disintegrate herself to some extent. “Iida! She told you to run!” Sato shouted as Iida began running. The wrap tried opening portals to send Iida elsewhere but that’s when you beat him at his own game. He didn’t expect you to pull on a strategy that you discussed infront him. This was exactly why you discussed it infront of him in the first place. Iida was safely out of USJ.

“Great! Now let’s hurry and help the others! If we’re here, I bet everyone else is also still in USJ! I’m worried about the guys who don’t really have ways to attack! Thirteen sensei’s probably got his hands full since we rushed ahead like that. None of these woulda happened if we’d let him suck in that mist man. As men we gotta take responsibility…” Kirishima continued but Bakugo stopped him. “If that’s what you want, then go on alone. I’m gonna beat that wrap gate guy to a pulp!” Bakugo stated. “Still pulling that immature crap at a time like this? Besides normal attacks don’t work on him…” Kirishima protested but was interrupted by Bakugo again. “Shut up! He’s how these punks are getting around. Bring him down and they’ll have nowhere to run! And it’s not like I don’t have a way to beat him..!” Bakugo was interrupted by a villain coming his way. He however didn’t falter, and bashed the villain’s head with an explosion. While doing so, he said, “I mean, if all they are sending against us are these idiots… We should be fine.” with a straight face. Just then, he heard a huge rumble and what seemed like a strong earthquake. Bakugou saw you in action back in battle training and he had to say that he was impressed unless he counted that happy and perverted personality of yours. Yes, he did notice you talking about him and while he surprisingly felt good about the fact that someone as pretty as you was stroking his ego even further, you still were kinda creepy to him. Wait, did he just admit to himself that you were pretty? Anyway, he decided not to think about it now and focus on the earthquake and the rumble. He heard felt a similar earthquake and rumble when you were fighting with the half and half bastard by taking chunks of concrete off the ground and throwing them at him. Did you get a power boost? Hell, he decided that he needed to train with someone as strong as you, even if you were a bit creepy.

As soon as All might reached USJ, you felt relief sweep over you. Everyone was going to be saved. If anyone could defeat that thing, it was All Might. While Mina and the others went to check on Thirteen, you felt dizzy. Turning your quirl off, you passed out on the floor, knowing exactly why you couldn’t control your power even before your body reached it’s limit.

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugo fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugou ? reader #bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou × reader #bakugou angst #bakugo × reader #bnha bakugo katsuki

[particularemu]

Insanity | A Hwang Hyunjin Series | Part 3

Part: [Prologue] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Epilogue]

Word Count: 5265

Type: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: mentions murder, suicide, self-harm, drugs, being drugged, weapons (kinda), depression, anxiety, manic episodes, 

Tag List: @alightiny​

Author’s Note: Shit is about to hit the fan!!! Stay tuned fam :3 

As usual, if y’all want to be added to the tag list, please shoot me a message 💖

“What are you two doing?” 

Your head snapped to the door, shoulders relaxing instantly when you saw Chan’s smiling face. His dimples popped out, making you smile as you greeted the brunette. “Hey, Chan.” 

“You look like you’re having fun.” Chan kneeled next to you and Hyunjin, offering his hand to the boy. Hyunjin shook Chan’s hand, smiling when he introduced himself. “I’m the one who takes over the night-shift.” The man chuckled. “Dr. Bang, but I hate the way that sounds so please call me Chan.” 

Hyunjin couldn’t help but snicker at the older boy as he stood up. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Bang. How many jokes did you hear your first week?” 

“Please. I’m still hearing them.” Chan laughed. “Well, if you’re ready to head home, go ahead. I’ll take over. If you want to stay, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind your company.” 

Hyunjin paused, wondering what he should do. The next hour or two could be a HUGE opportunity to bond with you. If he could build a solid foundation of trust, Hyunjin might be able to dig into that brain of yours and figure out why you’re suffering from retrograde amnesia. It was clear that he gained your trust over the past hour. He was having fun chatting with you about this and that — and well… hearing you compliment him wasn’t half bad either. 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about Chan. The man seemed trustworthy, but so did Dr. Henry when Hyunjin first met the man. Who’s to say that Chan isn’t going to get upset and beat you down? He was quite muscular. You wouldn’t stand a chance against him. Despite Hyunjin’s concern, he could see you trusted Chan, and in the end, that’s all that mattered. 

Pure exhaustion took over and Hyunjin decided that yes… yes he did need to go back to the dorms and get some sleep. After all the fucked up things he’s seen today, he just wanted to plop in bed and sleep for a good twelve hours. “I think I’ll head home.” Hyunjin sighed and leaned forward, whispering in Chan’s ear while you were making your bed. “She witnessed a suicide today, so watch out for nightmares.” 

Chan chuckled a bit. “You must care about her a lot.” 

“Hmm?” Hyunjin cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Of course I care about her. She’s my patient.” 

“Mhm.” Chan looked unconvinced. “Sure.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down, making the younger boy flush bright red. 

“Not what you think.” Hyunjin rubbed his cheeks to disguise the redness. “I’m going home. Goodnight.” Hyunjin turned to you and smiled brightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” 

You smiled and waved at Hyunjin. “Thank you. For everything.” 

Hyunjin kneeled down to your level and ruffled your hair. “We’ll figure this out. I know we will. Sleep well.” Hyunjin stood up and headed out the door, smiling when he saw you wave goodbye. 

As soon as the door closed behind him, Hyunjin smacked his cheeks a couple times, wincing at the sting. “I gotta get my shit together.” Hyunjin leaned his head back against the wall, shaking his head to rid himself of the images of blood, death, and deceit. The boy slowly sunk down the wall, threading his fingers in his hair as he tried to pull himself together. 

He couldn’t cry. Not here. Not now. 

The institution reminded him of something from a horror movie — one of the ones where everyone dies in the end. Hyunjin couldn’t help but curse himself for taking this job. During his first day, he’s dealt with an abusive doctor, creepy caretakers, an asshole boss, and he witnessed a man slice his own throat open with a shard of glass. 

And then there was you… 

You were like a bright ray of sunshine cutting through the cracks beneath the rubble of this institution. Behind all that anxiety — all that panic — was just a girl who was terrified of what lurked behind the walls. Hyunjin vowed to help you get out of Rosewood, and he was planning to follow through. 

Hyunjin sighed and stood up, hoping no one saw him have a small meltdown. The amount of tension he was carrying in his shoulders was borderline painful. Hyunjin stretched his arms, hoping to ease the ache as he left the institution, pausing to wave at the kind-looking receptionist. 

Hyunjin took a deep breath, eyes scanning the landscape around the institution. Perhaps he should start taking night walks? Rosewood looked even more beautiful at night. The rolling hills looked as though they jumped right out of a painting, the lush green grass illuminated by the moonlight. As he walked to the staff building with his hands in his pockets, he couldn’t help but think about you once more. 

From what he’s heard over the past few hours, you were a horrible patient who constantly had anxiety attacks, meltdowns, and violent episodes. Many people told him you were on the brink of insanity. Based on your actions today, Hyunjin couldn’t see you putting up a fight with anyone. If you were, you probably had a good reason to. Hyunjin couldn’t shake the memories of Dr. Henry throwing you across the room. Your body would be clad with bruises in the morning. Too bad Dr. Douglas wouldn’t listen. 

Hyunjin pushed on the door to the staff building, pausing when he spotted Minho slumped over by his room, head held in his hands. What’s he doing here? Minho looked defeated. Hyunjin could practically see the memories playing over and over again in the older boy’s head — a shitty slideshow telling him how he fucked up a man’s second chance at life. 

“Hey,” Hyunjin gently rested his hand on the older boy’s shoulder, noticing the way Minho relaxed under his touch. When was the last time this man had someone on his side? “Why don’t you come in?” Hyunjin smiled sadly at Minho when he raised his head, dead eyes meeting Hyunjin’s lively brown orbs. Minho nodded and pushed his tired body off the ground, smiling ever-so-slightly as Hyunjin helped him stand. 

“Sorry.” Minho’s voice was so quiet, Hyunjin wondered if he was hearing things correctly. His shoes scuffed against the floor as Minho trudged over to Hyunjin’s freshly made bed. “Today…” Minho paused, wracking his brain for the right words. “Can I…” He trailed off once more. 

“Of course.” Hyunjin didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence to know what Minho was going to ask. He couldn’t forget the look on Minho’s face — eyes full of grief as the needle fell from his hands. Minho lost the patient he’s been taking care of for three years. It had to be tough. 

Besides… Hyunjin would rather Minho stay the night. He could use the company.

Minho plopped on Hyunjin’s bed, messing up the sheets as he scooted up to the headboard, hugging his knees to his chest. Brunette locks fell down his face, masking his glassy eyes. 

Hyunjin felt for the older boy. He’s never witnessed a suicide before. Hyunjin couldn’t imagine watching you commit suicide — and he’s only known you a day. 

“I met with Dr. Douglas.” Minho’s voice was small, voice barely above a whisper. 

“You’re not in trouble right?” Hyunjin frowned. “You tried your best to stop him.” 

“No…” Minho sighed. “They’re removing anything breakable from the patient’s rooms in the morning.” 

“That makes sense.” Hyunjin leaned against the dresser, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’ll prevent any more suicides.” 

“No, it won’t.” Minho scoffed, an empty chuckle slipping past his lips. “You don’t know what people will do to end their lives.” 

“How can they…” Hyunjin trailed off, unsure if he wanted to know. 

“I’ve seen a man run headfirst into the wall until he knocked himself out.” Minho clenched his eyes shut. “I’ve also seen someone stab themselves in the eye with a needle because they thought it would be long enough to kill them.” 

Hyunjin’s eyes widened. “Are they still alive?”

“No.” Minho took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions. “They always find a way, Hyunjin.” Minho shook his head. “Anyways, your girl has a glass music box from her mother. It’ll crush her when they confiscate it.” 

“What?” Hyunjin sat down next to Minho. “I thought she didn’t remember anything from her past. How does she know it’s from her mother?” 

“She doesn’t,” Minho mumbled. “Her mother knew she was here before…” Minho trailed off. 

“Knew?” Hyunjin’s heart dropped. “Oh no…” 

“Her mother died three months ago when I took over her care.” Minho chuckled. “That glass music box is her inheritance.” 

“She doesn’t know?” Hyunjin couldn’t blame Minho for keeping it from you. Telling you heartbreaking information like that when you’re recovering could set you back. The last thing the doctors wanted was another patient losing their mind. 

“She wasn’t doing well.” Minho sighed. “At all. I thought telling her would make things worse.” The poor boy felt horrible for keeping this from you for so long, but he didn’t know if you would have a breakdown. “She was constantly in and out of solitary confinement, she was having multiple electroconvulsive therapy sessions a day, and she was trying to attack me with a lamp every time I walked into her room.” 

What? Multiple electroconvulsive therapy sessions in one day? That’s complete bullshit! Hyunjin’s mouth dropped open as he tried to process the information given to him. You were suffering from retrograde amnesia. This confirms his theory that the electroconvulsive therapy sessions were making your memory loss worse. Minho’s deep sigh shook Hyunjin out of his thoughts. 

“Hey.” Hyunjin rested his hand on Minho’s shoulder. “You made the right call. Do you know about her father?” Hyunjin figured that changing the subject would help. 

“We have no idea. We’ve never heard of a father, so we figured she grew up in a single-parent household.” Minho took a deep breath. “She’s about to lose the only thing that reminds her of her family. She’s going to be crushed.”

Hyunjin thought about it for a second. He was right. You had one little music box to remember your mother by. There’s no way in hell he was going to let you lose it. “Not if I have anything to do with it.” Hyunjin reached into the dresser and threw on a hoodie, rushing out the door before Minho could do anything about it. 

“Dumbass.” Minho chuckled and laid under the covers, drifting off almost instantly. 

Hyunjin rushed over to the institution and headed straight for your room. As soon as he opened the door, he could see the beautiful glass music box resting on the windowsill. The glass sparkled in the moonlight. He could see why you were so attached to it. The colorful glass was a nice contrast — compared to the dark, prison-like room you were forced to live in. The patients weren’t allowed to have pictures on the wall, the room was painted white, and the pitch-black sky didn’t help the eerie-looking room. No wonder you were depressed. 

Little did Hyunjin know, eyes were watching his every move as he opened the door. 

Hyunjin smiled when Chan waved at him from the desk in the corner of the room. “Forget something?”

Wait… Could he trust Chan? Despite his encounter with the older boy an hour ago, Hyunjin couldn’t shake that feeling of paranoia. Hyunjin knew he was being unreasonable, but he really only trusted Minho. Minho was the one who warned him about this place. Chan? Chan was continuing his work as if nothing was out of place at the institution. Hyunjin didn’t know if he should trust someone like that. 

“Dr. Douglas needs you quick!” Hyunjin gestured to the door. “It sounds like an emergency!” 

“Oh damn. Okay!” Chan closed his laptop and rushed out the door, pausing to say “Thanks!”

Great! Now that he’s gone, Hyunjin could grab the music box without you knowing. Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile as he saw your sleeping face. You looked unbothered by the world — as if you hadn’t been living in a horrible institution for the past few months. 

Hyunjin reached out to the music box on the window sill, eyes sparkling as the colors shimmered in the moonlight. 

“Why are you taking my music box?” Your small voice made Hyunjin’s heart drop. “That’s all I have.” 

Hyunjin’s heart completely shattered when he looked over, noticing the pure betrayal in your glassy eyes. He worked so hard to build trust with you over the past 12 hours, he couldn’t lose it now. “Oh, I wasn’t.” Hyunjin smiled brightly. “I just thought it was pretty.” Hyunjin sat at the edge of your bed, brushing some hair behind your ear as you yawned. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have tried to touch it. I just wanted to hear the song.” 

“It’s fine.” You mumbled and rubbed your eyes. “You can open it.” 

Hyunjin reached over, grabbing the music box off the windowsill, holding the fragile box in his hands. He gently opened the lid, closing his eyes to listen to the beautiful melody that began to play. Hyunjin felt your head drop onto his shoulder, sending his heart into a frenzy as he leaned his head onto yours. 

“My mother gave this to me.” You smiled as you looked up at Hyunjin, noticing how beautiful his milky skin looked in the moonlight. 

“Yeah?” Hyunjin smiled. “Your mother has good taste.” 

“She used to sing this song to me when I was a kid.” Your face fell. “She hasn’t come to visit me yet.” Hyunjin’s heart broke when your eyes started to glassy. “She sent me letters saying she’ll come. Why hasn’t she come Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin’s face paled as he said, “I don’t know sweetheart. She’s probably sick. The institution won’t let sick people in the building because they don’t want any of the patients to get sick.” 

Did you buy it?

“Oh that makes sense.” You smiled at Hyunjin. “I can’t wait for you to meet her. She’s a wonderful person.” 

Cute...

Wait, what?

Hyunjin’s eyes widened when he realized what just happened. Okay, so he thought you were cute. That’s not a bad thing, right? It’s not like he wanted to take you out to the gardens for a picnic and oh my god that’s exactly what he wants to do. 

Hyunjin’s cheeks flushed. He was doing it again. He was falling way too hard way too fast for someone he barely knows. 

“I came to check up on you after today. Are you doing okay?” Hyunjin chose to ignore his feelings and change the subject before he ends up telling you how he feels. 

“I guess.” Despite being really tired, you were still happy to see the ebony-haired boy. “I’m tired though.” 

“That’s fine.” Hyunjin smiled. “Go ahead and go back to sleep. I’m going to head home.” 

“Be safe.” You laid back down in bed, almost instantly falling asleep. 

As he left the room, Hyunjin couldn’t shake the disappointed look in your eyes. He missed his opportunity to take the music box, despite the damn thing being right in his hands. Hyunjin felt like he couldn’t take it now. You’d never trust him again. Who knows what would happen if he told you about the new rule in the institution? Hyunjin was convinced that you wouldn’t believe him. It is the first day after all. 

“Hyunjin!”

Oh, Christ what now?

Hyunjin sighed as he turned around, spotting Dr. Douglas in front of him. “Hello, sir.” As much as he wanted to throw a fit and call him names, Hyunjin knew he had to play nice for now. 

“Minho informed me about the incident in room 304.” Dr. Douglas frowned. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I appreciate what you did in there.” 

“No worries.” Hyunjin smiled. “I didn’t do much. It was all Minho.”

Dr. Douglas smiled nervously, hand rubbing the back of his neck as he said, “Look, son —” 

“I’m not your son.” Hyunjin’s eyes hardened as he waited for the older man to continue. 

Dr. Douglas sighed, arms crossing over his chest in frustration. “I’m trying to be friends here.” 

“Pardon my confusion, but I’ve never worked in a place with a friendly boss.” Hyunjin smiled an innocent look in his eyes — almost enough to fool the man in front of him. 

“You don’t have to like me, but you have to do your job.” Dr. Douglass glared. 

“I plan to.” 

Dr. Douglas rolled his eyes. “Did Miss _____ get her medicine today?”

Hyunjin’s heart dropped in his stomach. “Of course.” 

A long, unnerving silence followed — one that made Hyunjin’s blood run cold. Did he know? If Dr. Douglas found out about Hyunjin hiding the pills, he’d surely lose his job. Getting fired the first day on the job wouldn’t look good for his resume. 

“And how was she?” Dr. Douglas stared at him. 

Hyunjin swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing the sentence out of his throat. “She was fine. A little nervous, but that’s to be expected.” 

Dr. Douglas seemed to accept this explanation. “See? All her medications are working for her. There’s nothing to worry about.”  

“Of course sir.” Hyunjin smiled. “I apologize for my behavior earlier. I just wasn’t aware of Peroproxin, and I realize that Dr. Henry was merely doing his job.” 

“That’s quite alright son.” 

Hyunjin’s eye twitched at his designated nickname. “I have a quick question.” 

“Of course son.” Dr. Douglas smiled. 

“Not your son — umm. Could I look at the ingredients that are used in Peroproxin? I’m just curious because I’ve never heard of that medication. I’m curious to see what it contains.” Hyunjin figured he’d play dumb. Maybe he could get his hands on one of the bottles and see what’s actually in the medication? 

“Sorry, Hyunjin. It’s late and I’m headed home.” Dr. Douglas sighed. “I’m glad we hired you. You seem to be doing a great job.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Hyunjin yawned dramatically. “I’m pretty beat. I’ll head home too.” 

“Goodnight son.” 

Hyunjin rolled his eyes after Dr. Douglas walked off. That asshole was just trying to piss him off. After sighing like a passive-aggressive child, Hyunjin made his way to the lobby, pausing when he passed by your door. 

Maybe Chan could help him out? 

Even though he didn’t quite trust the man yet, Chan was his last chance. If Hyunjin had to sacrifice his career to help you, so be it. Hyunjin slowly opened the door and smiled at Chan. 

“Everything okay?” Chan turned towards Hyunjin, brows creasing when he saw the boy’s shoulders slump. “Because I recall being told I was needed in Dr. Douglas’s office, and he wasn’t there.” The older boy raised an eyebrow at Hyunjin. “If you needed a moment alone with your girlfriend, all you had to do was ask.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Hyunjin crossed his arms over his chest. “I just…” 

“Don’t worry.” Chan chuckled. “You don’t have to explain. I understand how hard it is to trust people in this place.” He smiled. “So, what can I help you with?”

Hyunjin strolled over to Chan, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “I need to get my hands on a bottle of Peroproxin.”  

“Hyunjin I can’t help you with that.” Chan sighed. “We’re doctors, not pharmacists.” 

“Yes, but we have the ability to prescribe. We should be allowed to look at the medication we’re prescribing these patients.” Hyunjin was frustrated. This didn’t make any sense. 

“We’re not allowed to change prescriptions in this institution. Dr. Douglas handles all of that.” Chan’s brows creased.

“But —” 

“Hyunjin. Let it go.” Chan’s stern voice startled the boy. “There are eyes and ears everywhere. You need to be careful.” 

What?

“I know this looks like I’m just being a brat, but I need this Chan.” Hyunjin’s eyes glassed over. “I need to figure this out for her. I can’t just watch her suffer.” 

Chan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Down the hall, to the left. There’s a big ass room filled with bottles of pills. Peroproxin is on the second shelf from the top — you’ll be able to reach it.” He paused. “Look for bottle 258B. That’s what she’s prescribed. If you’re caught and my name gets dragged into this, I’m going to find you and kick your ass.” Chan looked up at Hyunjin and chuckled. “Rosewood Psychiatric Institution will be the least of your worries.” 

“Thank you!” Hyunjin hugged the man, catching Chan off guard. He just threatened Hyunjin, and now the boy is hugging him? Well, worst things could happen. 

“Hurry up before the guards start to take their rounds seriously.” Chan shooed Hyunjin off, hoping the boy wouldn’t be seen. 

Hyunjin rushed off to the medicine, smiling when he spotted the big ass room Chan described. That’s it! Now all he has to do is —

“What are you doing up sir?”

Hyunjin spun around, head spinning as he met face to face with Dr. Henry. “Please, just call me Hyunjin.” Hyunjin smiled. “I was looking for the bathroom on this floor and I got lost.” Hyunjin chuckled. “Can you please tell me where it is?”

“I was told your shift ended two hours ago.” Dr. Henry smirked. “Why are you here still?”

Hyunjin paled. How was he going to talk his way out of this one?

“I asked him here.” A short man stepped out from the shadows. “I just wanted to confirm what he saw in room 304.” 

Dr. Henry frowned. “Alright then. I assume Changbin can help you with your little…” Dr. Henry leaned forward, breath ghosting near Hyunjin’s ear. “Problem.” The man chuckled darkly before walking away. 

“Okay, that gave me the jeebies.” Hyunjin shivered, wiping his ear with his hand. 

“I don’t blame you.” The short man — Changbin chuckled. 

“Thanks for saving my ass.” Hyunjin smiled. 

“Don’t mention it.” Changbin smiled. “I’m a friend of Minho’s. He’s told me a lot about you.” 

“Wow…” Hyunjin laughed. “Day one and I’m already making a name for myself.” 

“You aren’t like other caretakers.” He chuckled. “What are you after?”

“Medicine,” Hyunjin replied. “I’m looking for Peroproxin.” 

“I can’t help you there.” Changbin chuckled. “I’m the head of security, so I typically handle crazy patients.” 

“So you’re the one who makes sure they get beat into submission?” Hyunjin scanned the various shelves in the medicine room, spotting the bottle he was after. 

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about?” Hyunjin’s chest tightened when he saw the genuine confusion on Changbin’s face. “I don’t beat anyone. I’m just the muscle that kicks unruly visitors out of the institution.” 

“I’m sorry.” Hyunjin apologized. “I’ve seen some disturbing things over the past 12 hours and I’m starting to get paranoid.” 

“That isn’t a bad thing.” Changbin sighed. “You have your medicine. Now get out of here so I can erase the footage of you stealing.” 

Hyunjin’s eyes widened at Changbin’s words. “Thank you.” He paused, resting his hand on Changbin’s shoulder. “Seriously… Thank you.” 

“Yeah yeah.” Changbin sighed. “Get out of here.” Hyunjin thanked him once more before darting out of the institution — heading back to his dorm room. 

The ebony-haired man yawned as he opened the door to his room, smiling softly when he spotted Minho passed out in his bed. At least the boy was able to get some sleep. Hyunijn brushed some bangs out of Minho’s eyes, noticing the way the boy’s nose scrunched in his sleep. 

Hyunjin has always had a nurturing touch. He’s been taking care of his mother since he was a young boy. His mother suffered from a few different mental disorders, and after his father committed suicide, she completely stopped taking care of herself. So at five years old Hyunjin started taking care of his mother. He cooked her meals, made sure she took her medicine, and he kept her company until she was well enough to take care of herself. 

This stuck with him over the years. Hyunjin always wanted to please — to make sure that people were taken care of. 

Unfortunately, much like his mother, his emotions were like glass. Hyunjin always fell too deep too fast when it came to love. After a few bad breakups, he decided that romance just wasn’t in the cards for him. 

Well… That was until he met you. 

Seeing someone with such a pure heart being mistreated, hit something deep within him. He couldn’t help but admire your courage. Every day you woke up, putting your trust in these corrupt doctors, in hopes that your memories will return. 

Speaking of missing memories…

Hyunjin pulled out the bottle of Peroproxin — spying the list of ingredients in the back. What on earth were those? Hyunjin gasped when he realized that he had no idea what any of these ingredients were. How could a doctor prescribe a drug like this to his patients without knowing what’s in it? 

Hyunjin pulled out his laptop, opening the browser and searching the ingredients one by one. Nothing popped up. Hyunjin sighed and rubbed his eyes. His vision started to blur as exhaustion took over, knocking the boy out cold on the floor. 

--------

“Wake up sleeping beauty.” Hyunjin smiled at you as you slowly sat up from the bed. 

“What time is it?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes. 

“Time to get up.” He chuckled and sat next to you on the bed. “I’m just popping in to ask you a question.” 

Hyunjin flipped shifts with Chan every-so-often. He must be working the night shift today. 

Over the past few weeks, you and Hyunjin were like two peas in a pod. After your music box was taken, you had a few meltdowns, but Hyunjin was able to help you through all of them. He always took care of you — no matter how bad things got. 

“Here’s your dose of Prozac.” Hyunjin handed you a pill and you took it, washing the pill down with some water. 

“Are you allowed to do this?” You loved taking this medication, but you were worried about Hyunjin. The last thing you wanted was to see Hyunjin lose his job because of you. The boy worked so hard to become a doctor. One bad experience could wreck his chances at getting another job. 

“No, not at all.” Hyunjin chuckled. “Minho handles a lot of the medication these days, so he’s been adjusting the count for me.” He smiled at you. “Minho hates this place as much as we do. Don’t worry.” 

“Thank you.” You held Hyunjin’s hand, making the boy’s cheeks flush a bit. “I appreciate all you do for me.” 

“I’d do it for anyone,” Hyunjin replied. 

Oh…

Well, that hurts a little. 

“Well, thanks anyways.” You visibly sulked, but Hyunjin didn’t notice. “What did you want to ask me?”

“Oh yeah!” Hyunjin beamed. “Chocolate or vanilla?”

“What?” You tilted your head in confusion. 

Cute… 

“What’s your favorite?” Hyunjin smiled brightly. “It’s your birthday tomorrow and I have a surprise for you.” 

“Chocolate I guess.” You smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.” 

“I want to. You have a special place in my heart.” 

Oh my god there it was. 

You couldn’t stop the blush spreading on your cheeks as you grinned. That means he likes you right? Well, like as a friend but what if… What if he liked you as more than a friend?

“All of my patients have a special place in my heart.” Hyunjin smiled. 

You couldn’t help but sigh. Or perhaps you’re just another patient to him… 

“Hey, I have to go get something to eat, but I’ll see you in an hour for my shift!” Hyunjin quickly left the room, leaving you excited for his shift, yet confused about your feelings for the boy. 

You trusted him. 

You trusted him with your life but… that wasn’t the main reason you loved him. It wasn’t because of his beauty — nor was it because of his kindness. You were entranced by his every move. Every word that left his lips was interesting to you. You loved everything about him. 

But clearly, he didn’t see you as anything other than a patient — which is to be expected from a guy who has lived his life with his nose in a book. 

You couldn’t help but sigh, boredom taking over as you tried to figure out what you should do. Hyunjin gave you a book to read a few weeks ago. You should probably finish that so you could stay up tonight and chat with him about the book. You pulled the worn-out book from your shelf and started to read. 

Chan left earlier to help Minho with something important, and you told him you’d be fine until Hyunjin came in for his night shift. You weren’t used to being on your own, and you missed the company. Hyunjin always chatted with you about many different things. You told him stories you’ve never shared with anyone before… at least you think. Your memory wasn’t the best. 

Footsteps tore your attention from the pages. Did Hyunjin forget something? Chan said he’d be gone the rest of the night, so you didn’t think that he’d be back so soon. You turned around to see a new face — someone you weren’t familiar with. He was in a uniform, so you figured he must work at Rosewood. “Where’s Chan?”

“Chan told me to look after you until your other doctor comes.” The man answered, eyes avoiding your gaze as he scanned the room. 

What was he looking for?

The energy in the room completely shifted. Instead of being calm, you felt nervous and afraid. You wanted Hyunjin back. You were scared. If Chan actually sent this man, wouldn’t he know that your other doctor was Hyunjin? Did this man actually work here?

The man lunged for you, catching you off guard as you fell out of the chair. A sharp pain in the side of your neck made you cry out in pain, hand smacking at the man as the tip of the needle pierced your skin. What was he giving you? Was he sedating you? You didn’t do anything wrong?

“Hyunjin!” You cried out, but your voice sounded off. The room went blurry as you slumped to the ground, unable to support your body with your weak arms. 

Another man walked into the room as you tried to lift yourself up. You were too dizzy to do anything other than sit up on the floor, but you were kicked down as soon as you saw a large body dropped beside you. You tried to scream, but you couldn’t. It was as if you were paralyzed. One of the men positioned your body so you were laying right next to the dead body. You could see red seep onto the floor as the man from earlier stabbed it multiple times with something. The pieces clicked together all at once. He was trying to frame you for murder. 

Where was Hyunjin?

The man left the room, leaving you scared and shaking on the floor. Your consciousness cut in and out for a while. You could feel the blood reach your fingertips, staining the skin red. You couldn’t remember much of what happened, but you remembered one thing when you regained consciousness. 

Your heart shattered when your eyes met Hyunjin’s — fear evident in his big brown eyes. 

“What did you do?”

#hwang hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #skz #hwang hyunjin fanfictions #stray kids hwang hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids angst #skz angst #kpop angst #angst #my writing #tw: panic attack #tw: depression #tw: murder #tw: blood #tw: suicide #tw: self harm #tw: drugs #tw: drugged #tw: weapons #tw: anxiety #tw: anxiety attack

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #297

“crushed, damned, and broken; lost, sick, and left unspoken.”

When was the last time you did clay work/pottery? Not since high school when I made an anatomically correct heart. Do you like art, hate it or just not mind it? I adore it. Is crime a big problem in your area? Oh yes. What's the scariest story/urban legend/creepypasta etc you heard? Maaaan, as a cryptic fanatic, that's hard. Maybe the Rake. What personality trait does nearly everyone in your family seem to have? We're some resilient motherfuckers. What is your favorite soda? Well, it's technically strawberry Sunkist, but I do NOT let myself have it because I will fucking chug it and binge on them if available to me. So, I just consider Mountain Dew Voltage my fave. When you're on the beach, do you throw beached sea creatures back? I've never even seen a beached animal. I would, though. Have you ever thrown food at someone? Yeah, small food fights as a kid or joking with a friend. Have you ever been to a bonfire? Yeah. Do you like orangutans? I love them; such fascinating, enchanting animals that act more human than people half the time. When you see a bug flipped on his back, what do you do? It depends on what it is, but I usually try to help it. Is cereal good? Yeah, I love cereal. Do you like spaghetti? Love it. It was my favorite food as a kid. Is there any kind of weapon in your bedroom? No. Do you like snow globes? I love 'em! Be honest, did Fifty Shades of Grey arouse you in any way? I didn't read it and never will. What does your sibling(s) call you? "Britt" or "(little/big) sister." Do you have any close friends that are the opposite sex that your significant other dislikes? N/A Do you honestly believe everything happens for a reason? Why or why not? Nope, because I want you to explain to me why a child dies of cancer. Why the 11-year-old was raped and forced to bear the child. Why a partner is beaten to death by their s/o, etc. etc. Things just... happen. Do you believe in reincarnation? Why or why not? No, mostly; I DO kinda wonder about it, I just find it unlikely. It would be kinda poetic, though: being given the chance to experience so many unique things. But, I kinda want a conclusion to my mortal life. The Hunger Games or The Maze Runner? I read the first HG and loved it; I started the latter novel while I was in the psych hospital for a while, but I never finished it or got that far in. It did sound pretty good, though. Has anyone you’ve known claimed to be psychic? Well, they believe(d) in tarot readings; does that count? Idk. Did/do you believe them? I wouldn't. Is anything annoying you right now? "Annoyed" is a fucking understatement when it comes to what transpired at the capitol a few days back. Have you ever been ice-skating? No. Does the sound of rain at night help you sleep? It can, depending on how heavy it is. Have you ever seen an albino person, in person? Albino, no, but I knew a guy and his sister in high school who had vitiligo. Have you ever worn a pair of scrubs? Yeah, at the ER and hospital. Have you ever walked into a massive cobweb? I don't believe so. What would you say is your strongest felt emotion right now? Rage. I'm not over "the event." I'm just tired of humanity. Are you talking to anyone at the moment? No. Do you have trust issues? Oh yes. Have you ever found an arrow head? No. Who is with you? My mom's home. What can you not stop thinking about? *points upwards* Then there's Jason because PTSD, that's very normal. Do you forgive easily? I forgive very easily, honestly. In what part of your life so far, have you learned the most about yourself? 2017, when recovery began. I think... or maybe 2018, idk. I've truly come to discover myself quite a lot the past few years. Have you ever been in a fist fight? No. Are your ears pierced? Yeah: my earlobes twice, and then my right tragus has a stud. I want to get my others back... I had to take them all out in the psych hospital, and a lot of my piercings closed up. The only one I don't wanna re-do is my anti-tragus, because mine was *always* inflammed and aggravated. What did you last say out loud? "Okay" to Mom. What are you waiting on? Right now, an opportunity to go to the parlor I'm getting my tat tidied up at to get a price range on it. They just need to be open while we're out of the house. Do you tell people when they get on your nerves? Not really. Are your feelings hurt easily? Yep. What's the most expensive piece of clothing you have? Did you buy it yourself? I dunno... I very rarely get new clothes, nevermind expensive ones. Who is your closest platonic friend of the opposite sex? His nickname is Girt. He's been my best male friend since high school; we even hang out sometimes, but it's been a long while. How do you think your first relationship shaped who you are as a partner now? As a partner, it taught me to not fall head over heels and love more realistically and in a healthy fashion. I don't put my faith solely into them, but myself, too. I also accept "forever" is not always true just because they promise it. Who is your favorite protagonist of the same sex? Oh god, this is hard. I suppose maybe Tyrande Whisperwind from WoW. I love her dedication to her people and that her story has become more interesting in her finally "breaking." I could list so, so many "faves," tbh. Were you popular in high school? What was your reputation like? No; I was just the average teen. Have you always known your sexual orientation or did something happen to make you realize it? Somethings happened. There were a lot of hints building up before I even began to consider the possibility, but a daydream solidified it as fact. What was the hardest part of your last break up? Realizing I still wasn't "ready" or "fit" for a successful relationship. What brought you out of the hardest period in your life? As strange as it sounds, my suicide attempt put it into action. I was obviously hospitalized for a while, and then I was brought into a month-long partial hospitalization program that has a fucking genius psychiatrist, and I also had daily therapy as long as school days during the week. It was the intense help I needed. What's your favorite kind of smiley face? (: Does anybody know your deepest darkest secret? My old therapist and maybe my mom; I can't remember if I told her. Did you ever watch Rugrats? (the babies) I LOVED that show! I even had two of the video games. What about Hey Arnold? Ugh, I hated it, but I think my little sister did, or we just watched it if we couldn't find anything else. Do you like pep rallies? NO. NO. NO. My teachers always understood that they really stoked my anxiety and allowed me to opt out of going. I'd just stay in the classroom and read or something. Have you ever had pneumonia? No. What do you feel about surgeries? Do they worry you? I fear anesthesia awareness, but not to a debilitating degree or anything that makes me panic beforehand or anything like that. Do you play Minecraft? if so, feelings about servers? Never have, and not interested. Do you read creepypastas? Nah. Do you think vlogging in public is scary? It seems awkward as FUCK to me. Even alone. Have you been to an escape room? Was it a success? No. What social class would you say you're in? I think we're actually near the poverty line (or were, idk anymore, Mom slipped it before), so definitely lower. Have you ever recorded a cover of a song? No. How do you feel about guns? They scare me. What's the most traumatizing event that ever happened to you? A very abrupt and poorly-executed breakup while being madly in love to the point of obsession with the person. Are you faint to the sight of blood? No. Do you like spicy food? Yes. Do you have good dreams or nightmares more? Well, considering I was woken up by myself shrieking my lungs out this morning, guess. It seemed for a little bit that my nightmares were chilling out, but I guess not. When was the last time someone insulted you? What was the insult? Does my mother telling me I'm saying too many "f-bombs" count? I dunno otherwise. What’s your second favorite color? Maroon. Do you ever wish you lived in a different country? Hey Canada, mind adopting me? Who’s the last person you “pounded” fists with? Ha, I think my nephew. Have you ever been involved in an affair? No. Wait, maybe? Does the Joel thing count? We never even physically met each other, we were just being idiot kids flirting over text messages. You be the judge, ig. How many times a week do you speak to your boss? I don’t have a job. What do you want for your birthday? Just donate to my tattoo fund lmao. Having to get my laptop fixed fucked up my plans yet again... Have you ever been to a masquerade? No. Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? A handful, yeah. Who in your phone has a heart after their name? Just Sara does. Anything you’re avoiding? Always. After breaking up, what’s the worst? Letting go if you're the one who still has feelings. Does your sibling have a significant other? I don't know if my brother does, or the half-sister I've never met. Another sister is engaged, and two are married. Nicole is single, though. She's smart as hell about who she dates; she's probably pickier than me. Do you use Skype? Just to talk with Sara. Are you a fan of acrylic nails? I wouldn't wear them, but they look fine on some people. Except when they're square shaped. Name one happy song that describes you better than any other. "Get Up" by Mother Mother comes to me first. Name one sad/mellow song that describes you better than any other. Haha I connect with a lot of sad songs and would honestly rather not dig through 'em right now. What is your most used pick up line? None, they're all awful. Do you like the taste of alcohol? Noooooo no no. The only alcoholic drinks I like are very weak and sweet. What kinds of food make you sick? So this probably sounds so stupid, but "fancy" foods, like stuff with a lot of ingredients my body isn't used to, I guess. My stomach is very finicky with foods, so it's easy to make this list.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''creatures x: to the grave'' by motionless in white

[writingbymel]

Syndicate - Part 2

Author’s Note: Thanks for all the amazing support so far guys! Here’s part 2!! This ended up being so long lol I got a little carried away

Date Posted: 11/01/2019

Summary: Damon gets an idea to use Y/N to get Klaus to help him and the gang in Mystic Falls. Y/N and Klaus reunite and they all head to Mystic Falls to stop a mysterious hunter. 

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Word Count: 2,300+

Parts: Part 1

SYNDICATE MASTERLIST

“What did you think was going to happen showing up here?” Damon asks ordering a drink from the bartender for me. I take a sip of the rum and let out a little sigh.

“I just wanted to see him,” I reply stirring the ice around in my drink. “I was hoping to see all of them, but someone blew my cover.” I glare at Leo.

“I knew it was a bad idea from the start,” Leo chimes in before taking a sip from his own drink. “Plus I’m not the one who’s obsessed with a bracelet from years ago and refuse to take it off.”

“What are you doing here anyways Damon? Shouldn’t you be back in Mystic Falls?” I ask Damon ignoring Leo’s snide comments. Even though I hated to admit it, Leo was right. I was obsessed with my past even if I tried to convince everyone otherwise.

“You shouldn’t be the one asking questions Y/N,” Damon replies. “You want to tell me how you look like this?” He gestures to my outer appearance, “And don’t tell me you’ve aged because you look like a completely different person.”

“I made a deal with a witch the night of my birthday,” I explain. “She promised to help me conceal my identity so I could run from Klaus if I was willing to help her.”

“What did you do?” asks Damon.

“I turned her daughter who was dying,” I reply sadly.

“So what happened to your actual body?” Damon questions.

“I take it everywhere with me,” I reply laughing. “I keep it in a coffin waiting for the day I could finally stop running.”

“What is with everyone in this city and keeping bodies in coffins,” Damon responds. I just shrug not really understanding what he was referring to.

“Well you’ve been caught by Klaus now Y/N,” Leo says. “The whole Mikaelson family probably knows you’re here now. You’re either running or staying here.”

“I think I’m going to be staying here for a bit,” I say. “I have unfinished business.”

“I was desperately hoping you weren’t going to say that,” Leo groans. Leo never did like the Mikaelsons and he hated the lively atmosphere of New Orleans. He was more of a small town countryside kind of guy. I get up dragging Leo and Damon by their arms.

“We’ve got a body to return to,” I say with a smile.

“How did I get dragged into this?” Damon asks rolling his eyes. “I have more important things to do than help you with a makeover Y/N.”

“I highly doubt that,” I respond not taking no for an answer.

Hours later I woke up from what felt like a deep sleep. My head hurt, yet again. I reach over to my nightstand and take a large gulp of water. I sit up looking at the vanity mirror across from my bed. I was myself again. My Y/H/C hair and Y/E/C eyes almost foreign to me having not been myself the past few decades.

“The princess awakes,” Damon says tossing me a blood bag. I take a few sips feeling satisfied and energized. “You look great. Better than I remember.”

I roll my eyes ignoring Damon’s compliments, “Thank you for the blood, but shut up.”

He laughs as I push past him to the bathroom. My New Orleans apartment was one of the places I missed the most when I was on the run. Everything was still in place as if no one has stepped foot inside in ages. Dust collected on the bathroom sinks. I blow gently on the surface dust flowing into my mouth and nose. I cough a bit.

“That was extremely lame Y/N,” Leo says standing by the door frame. “Even for you, but you do look great, so I’ll let it slide.”

“This is why you’re my best friend,” I say with a smile.

“Yeah even when we both know what you’re doing is completely stupid,” Leo laughs.

“The heart wants what it wants Leo,” I tell him. I was joking, but I knew a part of me wasn’t.

Leo lowers his voice, knowing Damon could be listening, “Yeah and my heart wants Damon to love me.”

“Leo you’ve been obsessed with him for decades, plus he doesn’t swing that way” I tease fixing my hair a bit. “You know he’s obsessed with the doppelgänger.”

“A vampire can dream,” Leo points out.

I roll my eyes at Leo, pushing him out of the way, “You are always trying to make drama where there isn’t any.”

I make my way into the living room of my apartment only to see Damon raiding my liquor cabinet. Not surprising.

“That’s one thing I’ve always liked about you Y/N,” Damon says feeling my presence in the room, “You were never cheap with your liquor,” he turns around with a grin holding up some aged whiskey.

“So are you finally going to tell me what you’re doing here in New Orleans? With Klaus of all people?” I ask reaching into my cabinet to break out some whiskey glasses. He looks at me and pours us each a glass of whiskey.

“There’s a new vampire hunter in Mystic Falls,” Damon starts. “We’re convinced Klaus is the only one who can save us. For some reason this hunter is fast. Supernatural fast and they somehow have the help of a witch.”

“Are they a vampire?” I ask.

“That’s the thing,” Damon responds. “We’re not sure. Stefan is back investigating with everyone and I’m here trying to beg Klaus to come back to Mystic Falls. Somehow everyone was convinced I’m the one he hates the least.”

“Maybe you’re just the best at begging,” I joke. He laughs slightly.

“So what’s your big romance plan,” Damon asks. “Are you going to show up at Klaus’s door and beg for his forgiveness?”

“I didn’t come back to New Orleans to commit suicide,” I reply knowing that showing my face would anger Klaus more. Damon laughs. “How are you going to convince Klaus to go back and help you guys? Last I heard you guys tried to kill him and his whole family.”

“Details details Y/N,” Damon says setting down his empty glass in the sink. “While I love this reunion, I got an original to drag back to Mystic Falls.” He states before disappearing out the door with a flash.

Klaus’s POV

“People have really gone to drastic measures to provoke you brother,” Elijah says laughing out of disbelief.

“Honestly it’s impressive if anything,” I mention. “She looked nothing like Y/N.”

“What if it was Y/N?” Rebekah asks hopefully. I grow irritated with my younger sister.

“Tell me darling sister how would Y/N look completely different,” I retort. “The only way that would be possible is if she had the help of a powerful witch.” I walk out of the room not wanting to talk about the situation any longer. I go into my art room only to see Damon. So much for peace and quiet.

“I already told you Damon I’m not going back to Mystic Falls. I have no reason to help you. I thought I made myself clear,” I grab some of my spare paintbrushes dunking them in water to wash them.

“Can’t you find it in your tiny heart to help us?” Damon jokes. I turn my back to him rolling my eyes. All the Salvatore brothers and the children in Mystic Falls irritated me— one moment they would be trying to drive a stake through my heart, the next they would be finding ways to get me to help them. “What if I reunite you with Y/N?”

“You and I both know Y/N disappeared years ago,” I reply not believing the words I was hearing.

Damon reaches in his pocket for his phone and dials a number. “Hey Y/N can you help me conv—” Before Damon could finish I pushed him up against the wall.

“How dare you try to fool me,” I say angrily. Damon struggles against my grip.

“Jeez talk to her yourself why don’t you,” he squeaks shoving the phone against my ear.  

“Hello?” I ask.

I hear a familiar voice answer, “Hi Klaus.” A voice I fell in love with centuries ago. I slowly let Damon go.

“God I told you,” Damon says brushing off his clothes. “Do you Mikaelsons not trust anyone?”

“No not really,” I respond quietly.

“So are you going to help us or not,” Damon states.

“Bring Y/N here and I’ll consider helping,” I tell him.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Damon says excitedly. He quickly disappears out the door.

Y/N’s POV

Come to the compound, the only way the big bad hybrid will help if he sees you  - D

I sigh at the pressure now put on my shoulders. If I didn’t go face Klaus and the Mikaelsons, Damon wouldn’t get help and everyone in Mystic Falls would be put in more danger. I really didn’t want to confront them this soon, but it looked like I had no choice. I grab my bag and Leo raises his eyebrows at me.

“Were you really about to visit the Mikaelsons without me?” Leo asks.

“No way,” I reply. “I would not be able to handle all that drama alone.” I grab Leo’s arm and pull him out the door.

Walking down the streets of New Orleans felt like home to me. I remembered the path to the Mikaelson’s from my place like the back of my hand. Two rights and one left took me straight into the center of the Abattoir. Rebekah was outside drinking a cup of blood looking curiously at the latest fashion magazine.

“Y/N? Is that really you?” she asks. She speeds over and takes a closer look at me. “Wow it really is you,” she pulls me into a hug.  

“This isn’t the welcome I expected after staking your brother ages ago,” I say with a slight laugh. Rebekah pulls away.

“Y/N, I think all of us have tried to kill Klaus once. Plus that was ages ago,” Rebekah explains laughing. She looks over at Leo. “And you are?”

“Oh Rebekah this is Leo,” I explain. “I met him a few years ago when he just turned.”

She gives him a small smile, “Klaus is upstairs, but I’m sure he’s heard you by now knowing my nosy brother.” Damon makes his way into the courtyard.

“Y/N thanks for coming,” Damon says.

“You honestly didn’t give me much of a choice,” I reply. Damon begins to drag me up the stairs.

“Wait I’m not ready,” I state stopping in my tracks. Damon groans.

“Y/N,” I hear a voice at the top of the stairs. I look up to come face to face with Klaus. He had smudges of paint all over his clothes. I smile at myself a little bit. Even after centuries nothing has changed.

“Klaus,” I reply.

“Damon,” Damon says attempting to break the awkward tension. I would’ve laughed if it weren’t for the fact that I was staring at my ex-boyfriend who I thought I would never see again. Klaus extends his hand out to me.

“Let’s talk,” he says pulling me upstairs. I sit down on the couch in the living area as he hands me a glass of blood which I take graciously. Klaus stares at me, but I try to avoid eye contact as much as possible.

“Where did you disappear to all these years?” Klaus asks.

“I’ve sort of been jumping around everywhere,” I say staring at the thick red liquid in my cup. Normally I would be taking the opportunity to drink it, but I couldn’t stomach anything at the moment. I set the drink on the coffee table. He responds with a nod. “How are you not lashing out at me right now?” I ask. “I tried to kill you Klaus.”

“I was angry for years Y/N,” Klaus replies. “I never thought I would see you again.” He walks over to sit on the coffee table across from me. I hold my breath as he suddenly gets closer, “You really did hurt me Y/N.”

I stare at my hands in my lap, “I still regret it to this day.”

“Why did you do it?” Klaus asks.

“Someone threatened my family,” I reply sadly. “To this day I still don’t know who it was. The stake just showed up on my doorstep with a note.” Klaus remains silent. “I really am sorry Klaus.”

“I have a vampire hunter to kill,” Klaus sets his glass down before getting up and making his way towards the stairs. I reach out to grab his arm. He looks at me quietly.

“I’ve really missed you Klaus,” I tell him. He reaches out to push some of my hair out of my face.

“Me too,” Klaus whispers.

“I’m coming to Mystic Falls too,” I state.

“If you insist,” Klaus says making his way down the stairs. As I turned the corner I saw Damon, Rebekah, and Leo huddled at the bottom of the stairs attempting to listen to Klaus and I’s conversation.

“Don’t you all have supernatural hearing?” I say rolling my eyes at them.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Y/N, we were just looking at the stairs,” Leo laughs.

“Sure you guys were,” I say pushing past them. “Mystic Falls here we come!”

Damon shakes his car keys, “I’ll drive.”

I look over at Klaus and he gives me a small smile. For someone I haven’t seen in centuries, I felt my feelings for Klaus wash over me all over again. We all piled into Damon’s car and headed to Mystic Falls.

PART 3

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