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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 3 years

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Star Wars AU:

(I JUST SPED-READ THIS WHOLE AU RN AND IM BRAINING SO MUCH AND WROTE THIS AS I WENT!!!!

TW: there is an explanation of Sally’s death, but not to detail really! As well as TW for blood!)

After Sally was killed and Fundy was taken,he switches between the personalities of ‘Ghostbur’ and ‘Alivebur’ maybe? (Maybe around Tommy being taken as well as Tubbo? He kind of switches back and forth on both these types of ‘states’? I cannot think of the correct wording but yeah)

Sometimes he’ll just Not Sleep or he’ll wake up after a vivid dream, panic seizing his chest (he sometimes uses his force to try and convince himself that none of this was real and that awful day was just a nightmare to try sleep. He was still living in his old home with Sally and small Fundy with childish giggles being the only thing he heard; but it never really works. He doesn’t think about the Knife he lost. Nope.) Either way, he is not very mentally stable at either of these times because he’s lost all these important people because he can’t protect them.

(He remembers how the blood leaked out of his chest and his vision slowly began to blur as he sat by the love of his life who had now been dead for minutes or maybe an hour before he got into contact with his family.

‘Hello?...’ he knew that voice... he thinks he does. The voice belonged to someone with kind eyes and wings that added to great hugs...

‘Phil?....’ a cough, god the taste of copper and salt of tears was a horrible mixture before coughing again, barely hearing the concerned voice and another voice in the background.

‘Wil, what’s wrong mate? What happened?’ The voices were conversing again, he’s slowly focusing more on the blood that’s leaking out of the open wound in his chest.

‘I-I...’ he either chokes on a sob or his own blood or maybe both. ‘I couldn’t stop them... please..’

He doesn’t remember the rest of the conversation that well. )

He’ll just go around in the morning back home with Phil, Techno and the addition of Tommy like usual, bags under his eyes and said brown eyes don’t have the same shine they used to and he’ll walk up to someone, a blue bracer on his arm, fingers tracing each indent (in a certain way it feels warm, as if her hands hadn’t even left it after she placed it on his arm all that time ago..) and just

“Have you seen Sally and Fundy this morning? I didn’t hear either of them when I woke up...” and their looks make him feel confused, why do they look sad like that?... it’s not like they just upped and left or something.... right?

And either it’s that moment where continues to block every single detail of That Day or he remembers everything so vividly and perfectly like it happened that Morning (sometimes both) and the memories flood in of the love of his life on the ground lifeless and his son gone and remembers the way his chest burned and his throat ached as he screamed and shouted and moved and Sally was cold, cold, lifeless, never to laugh or sing or dance or make fun of Tommy for being a Child or anyone-

No one to sing his little songs with as they sung their little champion to sleep after the child’s nightmares or temper tantrum’s of ‘I’m not tired!’ As he would hold a little stuffed toy of a weird blue creature dubbed ‘friend’ that Wilbur had passed down to him after the toy was once his comfort as a child, a gift from Phil.

—

‘Now Fundy, this is Friend, they look a little weird and a bit old and dirty, but I know they’ll keep you company too, okay? They’ll protect you and stop your nightmares... I promise you that. They’ll fight all the bad guys in you dreams, okay little champion?’

And if sometimes someone will catch him in his sons room with a singular candle lot whilst he holds a blue stuffed toy singing a soft lullaby as his voice cracks where Sally would’ve once add her own parts, no one questions it.

—

Then Tubbo is taken; sweet, kind and enjoyable and funny Tubbo with a heart of gold and steel - And Then Tommy, his stupid younger brother and those assholes who took both of his brothers away from him. And then it happens to Tubbo again.

And Dream as well.

Not as if he’s slowly starting to care about him. Nope. Dream is just.... an ally. (No one should be forced to work for those bastards god damnit, no one. It’s not like he cares about Dream more and more because this happened with Tubbo too-)

(He does his best to ignore the voice in his head that shouts at him that he can protect no one, but he’s already believed it from the beginning.)

And so if he slowly becomes stubborn and doesn’t care about his well being again and only talks about blowing the place that holds his brother captive to smithereens? (Like the Empire blew a bullet through his chest and his wife’s head.) Whos stopping him from blowing the place to kingdom come to get Tubbo back? (The injured innocents - the sane part of himself whispers in his mind, those who can’t protect themselves and need to be protected a voice that sounds like Sally says.)

Who’s stopping him? He’s doing it either way. He...He needs to. He has to doesn’t he??

Not to mention his excitement on light terrorism with Niki and Jack, if he’s allowed to go a little crazy he’s going to Make It Grand.

—

He’s so cold all the time (argbur reference? In my ask? Yes.) he wants to be warm again, but his warmth was taken... he doesn’t like being cold...when was the last time he felt warm?... he can’t remember right now. He misses Sally, he wonders if She or Fundy would be proud of him. (Iykyk 😔)

(I’m not sure what else should be added with ‘Alivebur’ , but please he needs so much therapy it’s not that hard to see when he’ll sometimes go into his own little world and relive memories or something completely new and talk to his dead lover and son who he also believes he’ll never see again.)

And when he finds out the Fundy that wears a helmet around him is the Fundy who was taken away from him so long ago and it’s the first time in a long time that he finally breaks down in front of someone? He doesn’t care right now.

And if he gives Fundy one of the hunting knives Sally gave him at their wedding? He wants his son to have a memory of his mother too.

-blue

Perfection. Absolutely perfect. I love all of this. Just everything about it is great.

#dream smp #dream smp au #star wars au #wilbur soot #fundy #sally the salmon #ask #Blue #tw blood #blood tw #drabble

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jazy3 · 3 years

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Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X9

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

I loved this episode! The writing was excellent, the cinematography was phenomenal, the acting was great, and the sets and costumes were gorgeous! They did some very interesting shots. It was very avant-garde and when done right I love that kind of thing. Also, we got to see Meredith back in action as she wandered around Teddy's dreamscape and talked to her which I loved. They took a risk with this episode and I think it paid off.

This episode was really beautiful in terms of the sets and costumes that we’re used. I loved Meredith’s jacket, the blue wedding dress that Teddy wears is gorgeous, and I loved her silk pyjama set and robe. Very fierce. I love that they recreated Teddy’s apartment in Germany and dressed it up for the wedding. That set was really cool! The flower arrangements were interesting, and the disco balls were a nice touch. I loved the hotel set where Tom and Teddy run away to. It was very flowy and surreal. Teddy’s bedroom in New York was also well done. The wicker bedframe made it feel particularly true to the era.

This episode made me feel like I have a better understanding of where Teddy is coming from now and it made her a lot more sympathetic and understandable than in the past. I’ve been open about the fact that I’ve found Teddy’s motivations and point of view difficult to understand this season. She spent the first half of the season treating Tom horribly for no discernable reason. She’s been cruel to Owen after finally getting what she wanted all these years and I repeatedly found myself wondering what she expected to have happen after she acted the way that she did.

I didn’t think it was possible for me to like Teddy after the way she’s been acting all season and the careless way she’s been treating other people, but this episode made me understand her a lot more and actually have sympathy for her. What this episode addressed in a big way is that Teddy has never gotten treatment or really dealt with the trauma that she has experienced in the way that other characters have.

Owen, Teddy, Megan, Riggs, April, and Parker all served in the military and experienced trauma as a result. But Teddy has never gotten treatment or any kind of help for what happened to her. We’ve seen Owen go through therapy for his PTSD and other issues multiple times across the seasons. We saw Megan receive treatment and she talks to Owen about the fact that both her and Riggs go to individual and couples’ therapy weekly to deal with their trauma and issues.

While we don’t see April go to therapy we do see her work through the trauma of having served, losing her son Samuel, losing her marriage, and we see her go through a crises of faith later on. We see her process those emotions and get help from those around her. Last we see of resident Casey Parker, Teddy and Amelia are admitting him for treatment and he’s reported to be doing better. We never see Teddy do any of that. We see her go to a grief group after Henry dies, but that’s it. As Amelia says to Owen in this episode, they have both openly acknowledged and received treatment for their illnesses and issues. Teddy never has and clearly that's been affecting her more than any of them, including Teddy, realized. This episode addressed the long standing issues that Teddy has and I’d like to see her get therapy going forward. Through Teddy’s dreams we find out that she blames herself for Allison’s death because she wanted to stay in and make her pancakes for breakfast, but Teddy said no.

Allison wound up going to the restaurant Windows on the World for breakfast and then to work at the World Trade Centre and Teddy grabbed something quickly and then went into work at the hospital. Teddy feels that if she had just said yes to breakfast and to Allison making her pancakes or if they’d both called into work and taken the day off that Allison wouldn’t have died, but as this episode makes clear Teddy couldn’t have known what was going to happen. And having breakfast with Allison may not have saved her life. She could have been somewhere nearby the day of the attack and suffered smoke inhalation or been hit by debris.

Or she could have randomly been hit by a car walking down the street. You just don't know what’s going to happen. But nevertheless, Teddy blames herself. In her flashbacks we see Teddy learn of her mother’s sudden and unexpected death at the age of 50. We learn that Teddy’s father was sick for years before he died that same year. That Allison carried her through that and that’s how they fell in love.

So, when Allison died in a horrific unexplainable terrorist attack that same year Teddy was gutted and so she ran away and joined the military in order to try and help the people who were trying to get the people who killed Allison. While serving in Iraq she fell in love with someone who was engaged and when she was discharged and they reconnected she found out he felt the same way but was with someone else who he later married.

So, she moved on and fell in love with someone else who promptly died. Owen then fired her so she would take her dream job at MedCom in Germany and when they reconnected once again, she found him married to someone else. He flew all the way to Germany to see her and she finally thought they were going to have their moment only to discover that he’d been sleeping with Amelia the night before. She kicked him out only to realize afterwards that she was pregnant.

She once again returned to Seattle only to find out that Owen and Amelia had gotten back together and had kids. So, she started over and began a relationship with Tom only for Owen to once again declare his love for her at the worst possible moment. They got back together and she thought she was happy, but the moment she realized that Amelia’s baby might be Owen’s she panicked and ran back to Tom.

Only to discover that the baby was Link’s and that she just blew her life up for no reason. She couldn’t admit to what she’d done because all of that is tied to her previous trauma that she still hasn’t dealt with. She couldn’t face Tom because she didn’t know how to explain her actions. She couldn’t tell Owen because she still doesn’t understand why did what she did and all of that is wrapped up in those past events that she still hasn’t come to terms with. Then Owen can’t forgive her because that lie makes him feel like everything about their relationship has been a lie.

As for the show choosing to introduce and explore Teddy’s deep love for Allison this late into Teddy's tenure I'm of two minds. On the one hand, I wish they had introduced or hinted at Teddy being bisexual or being in love with Allison earlier on in the series as it would have made more sense and been less of a shock. On the other hand, I've really enjoyed seeing the show explore this storyline more and dive deep into what trauma does to people and how the devastation of losing someone in a tragic incident such as 9/11 can make you close off parts of yourself. The actress who plays Allison, Sherri Saum, does a fantastic job and her and Kim Raver, who plays Teddy, have great chemistry. I found their scenes particularly moving.

As for Owen’s behaviour in this episode, while I understand why Owen was upset, I felt it was hypocritical of him to be so mad at Teddy for not telling him that her and Allison were lovers when he got involved with and married both Cristina and Amelia without telling them that Teddy existed. They both found out after or around the time they got married to him that he was in love with Teddy when she showed up in Seattle. What Teddy did was awful, but Owen's no saint. He's done just as bad and worse. I think it's time for him to let go of his animosity toward her and forgive her. I'm also just really sick of watching them fight all the time. No thank you.

As Amelia says to Owen in this episode, forgiving her doesn't mean that they get back together. It can simply mean that he chooses to let go of his angry and work through his emotions so that they can be friends and co-parent together as he and Amelia have done. I thought Amelia was great in this episode. We saw her step up and advocate for Teddy and counsel Owen even though she didn’t have to.

She told Owen what he needed to hear knowing he was likely to listen to her more than others. She supported Teddy and advocated for her even though she didn't have to because that's who Amelia is and she wants Teddy to experience the same sanity and peace that she's attained now that she's had her brain tumour removed and has her addiction under control. Plus, I think she genuinely wants Owen to be happy and for the kids that they are all raising together to be happy. Happy parents make for happy children. She wants that for them.

Amelia has grown so so much in the past few seasons. She’s gone from someone who was mentally unstable and out of control to the point that she refused help for what were clearly serious issues for literal years and then treated Meredith horribly after Derek’s death and made everything about her and whined and complained when Owen and Meredith pointed out that she wasn’t the only one who missed Derek and that Meredith did not have the luxury of falling apart because she had three small children who need her to someone who is sane and stable and has her addiction under control to the point that she is able to advocate and help others and is able to support Meredith and look after her kids with kindness and compassion.

I loved the Beth and Cristina mentions in this episode and all of the flashbacks especially the early one to when Teddy first shows up and we the audience learn that her and Owen have been in love forever, but he's with Cristina and before that he was engaged to Beth. In this episode we saw Meredith and DeLuca accompany and guide Teddy throughout her dreamscapes which I thought worked really well.

I loved seeing Meredith up and about and talking to Teddy and guiding her through her trauma and her response to it. Meredith is Teddy's patient, she wants her to live, and because Cristina and Amelia are her sisters and she's known Owen by extension for a long time she has information that's useful to Teddy so I thought that made sense. I particularly loved the field of bodies scene in the snow where Teddy is blaming herself for Allison, Henry, and DeLuca’s death and Meredith’s tells her there’s nothing she could have done.

Then at the end Meredith says to her, “Come on let’s leave this place.” And Teddy looks at her and says, “Please don’t die.” And Meredith says, “I’ll try.” I thought was funny and also very poignant. DeLuca helping to guide her made sense to me in that he was someone she worked with closely during the pandemic and who died on her table. She desperately wanted to turn back time and save him the same way she wanted to save Allison, her parents, and Henry.

While I’ve never been a DeLuca fan, I genuinely thought his scenes in this episode were funny and the actor had good comedic timing. The road trip with Tom and DeLuca was hilarious. It makes me wonder what the character could have been if they gone with a more comedic route. What would have happened if in Season 15 instead of pivoting and going in a completely differently direction they had stayed the course and after getting his mojo back had him continue to pursue Neurosurgery as a speciality, had Amelia continue to mentor him, and given him more comedic dialogue.

I think that really could have worked well because from Seasons 12 to 14 DeLuca worked well as a side character and in a supporting role. I didn’t have a particularly strong opinion on the character back then and I only started to hate him as a character in Season 15 when they turned him into a complete asshole who was rude and disrespectful to everybody for no good reason. Presumably out of fondness for the actor they decided to give him a bigger role in Season 15 and made the choice to pivot from him having a supporting role to a romantic storyline and then a dramatic one.

Which was a real shame because it took DeLuca from being a decent side character that most fans either liked or were neutral on to being a real asshole that most fans hated and couldn’t stand. The reality is that character and that actor just didn’t work in a romantic storyline with the main character and his mental health storyline did not come across as intended. I think that’s because the actor and character were best suited to a supporting or comedic role and just didn’t work as a romantic lead or in a dramatic storyline.

My favourite scene of the episode was when Tom and Teddy were in the hotel room and the grenade suddenly appeared and then it went off! I didn't expect it to actually go off and blow up Tom! That shocked me and made for an interesting transition. I really liked seeing more of Tom in this episode. He’s a great character and he’s contracting of COVID-19 has really sidelined him recently so I enjoyed seeing him back in action. The actor, Greg Germann, has great comedic timing so that was a treat to see and I loved seeing more of Tom and Teddy together at the hotel room.

Until next time!

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youllallriseintheink · 3 years

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The Friendly Long Horse

Long Horse is a character created by Trevor Henderson. Please support his works.

---

I was leaning against a fence, watching my wife’s two horses graze in the field. The brown one, Buttercup, trotted over to me for pats. I reached out to pet her, and her lips peeled back from her teeth. She bit down hard, and tugged off my hand. I pulled my arm away, screaming. My hand disappeared into her mouth. Her ear flicked, her eyes were calm. Like nothing was abnormal about this. Then, she put her head through the fence and bit my arm. Before I knew it, I was being pulled through the fence and into her mouth, bit by bit, until she’d consumed all of me.

I woke up.

A dream. Of course. If it weren’t a dream, I would have run away once she’d eaten my hand, and she wouldn’t have put her head through the barbed-wire fence, anyhow. Of course, that’s all pretty silly to mention considering that no horse, but especially not Buttercup, would casually eat a human alive.

In the early morning darkness, I noticed what looked like a horse skull, with no jaw and a few strands of black mane, peaking out from behind my door. I dismissed it as a trick of the light and went back to sleep.

The next morning, the horse skull was still there, staring at me.

Unsure what to do, I approached the door. The skull vanished the second I opened it, as though it was never there. It had moved, as though by teleportation, to peeking out at me from behind a corner before the staircase. That’s how it was all morning- the horse skull was always there, watching from behind something, disappearing whenever necessary. I value my privacy, so I tried pushing it out while I was in the shower, but it vanished right before I could touch it, appearing at the other side of the shower curtain.

It was with me on my way to work, peering from behind lamp posts as I drove. I turned on the radio. Turned it way up. This had to be a hallucination. An entire horse could not fit behind a lamp post. Not to mention everything else wrong with this. I sincerely hoped that I wasn’t losing my mind.

The thing is, this didn’t map onto any mental illness I knew of, and as a psychology PhD who has worked for years at an insane asylum, I would know. People who have hallucinations don’t know that they’re having hallucinations, and any psychotic disorder you could name comes with other symptoms, like slurred speech and delusions. Of course, the person is not always aware of these symptoms- my clients have often said that the first sign of an episode starting is that strangers treat them differently.

I did not want people to treat me differently, so I did not mention the horse skull to any sane human being. However, I did mention it to one of my clients that day, while administering an ink blot test.

“Do you see the horse skull?” I asked.

My client, a slack-jawed 28-year-old man who looked twice his age, squinted at the ink blot photo that I held in my hand.

“No. I mean the one over there.” I pointed to it. He looked over his shoulder and then back at me.

“No. Should I?” he asked.

“No. No, that’s a good sign,” I said. I felt as though the skull were mocking me.

Every night for the next three nights, I had nightmares of dying at the hooves of a horse. I’d been trampled. I’d ridden horses off of cliffs or into incoming traffic. I’d even had a horse drown me in his trough.

Each morning I would wake up to that damned skull, and I was able to sense her in a new way. On the first day, I became capable of smelling her- she smelled like cinnamon and rotting bone. The next, I became capable of hearing her make her little snorts and whinnies. On the next, a fog descended upon everything in my immediate environment, and I felt that it was a part of her.

I didn’t know what to do. To be frank, I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to spend my evenings on the other side of the insane asylum walls. I didn’t think it would help, anyhow- I’d had time by now to thoroughly consult the DSM-V, and if I were crazy, it was a type of crazy that no one had bothered to study or cure yet.

On the fifth day I spent with that skull watching me, I came home in the evening to a message written across my bedroom wall in black:

Go ride Blackjack.

I went. I felt insane for obeying the message, but I went.

Blackjack is ostensibly my horse. My wife had thought Buttercup was lonely, and that it would be nice for us to ride horses together, and so she bought a black gelding that was big enough for me to ride. I found out pretty quickly, though, that riding is not at all my thing, and so Blackjack hasn’t been ridden in a couple years. She tells me that he’s perfectly happy just running around the pasture, and she’s the one that would know. She grew up on and inherited this farm- I’m just some city mouse that she met at college.

Once I got to the stable, the first obstacle presented itself: I didn’t know where his saddle was, and even if I did, I had no idea how to put it on. The horse skull peered me from behind a wooded post and patted Blackjack’s back with her chin.

“Bareback?” I asked.

She nodded in response.

I prayed that I wasn’t committing some sort of horse abuse, took Blackjack out, and got on him. He started galloping immediately. My heart nearly stopped. This was like too many of my nightmares.

Blackjack took me down a dirt road until we came to a wooded area. By then, the sun was setting, and combined with the fog that I’d become used to squinting through, it was making it difficult to see. We entered the wooded area. And there was what she meant to show me.

Approaching the corpse under the giant, rotted tree, I desperately hoped that it was just a big deer. As soon as those solid, round hooves came into view through the mist, though, I knew better. It was Buttercup, her ribs torn open. Her body was cold, and yet there were no tooth marks on her. She was perfectly preserved except for a surgical-looking slit on her belly, and the fact that her ribs looked to have been torn open and then put vaguely back into place.

My wife would be devastated, and what was more, I now had to face that I wasn’t crazy. Something supernatural was happening, and I didn’t know what.

The horse skull was floating next to me now- the first time I saw her and she wasn’t hidden from me. She tapped me on the shoulder and then floated over to a patch of dirt. Her mist parted, revealing a message constructed from Buttercup’s intestines.

LEAVE WHILE YOU STILL CAN

I got back onto Blackjack, who gave me a swift ride home. I said nothing of the event to anyone, even when my wife mentioned that Buttercup was missing and called the police over it. I did not sleep that night. It didn’t feel safe. I thought about waking her up and getting her to leave with me, but how would I explain to her that I wanted to leave home because a horse skull had led me to a message spelled out in Buttercup’s remains? Finally, I came up with an excuse.

“Sharol?” I said, shaking her awake. “We should leave. Whoever took Buttercup is probably still out there. We’d be safer somewhere else until the police can come and take a look at what happened.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said, still snuggled into bed. “We’ll be fine. Go back to sleep.”

I’d known it was a long shot. Still, I didn’t want to leave her. “Please. I feel like we might not be safe here.”

“It’s two in the morning,” was all she said.

I... left without her. I shouldn’t have. I was still in the mindset that this wasn’t quite real, I guess. I was going to leave for a motel, but the fog on the road was incredibly thick. I could see nothing but white all around me. The horse skull appeared in front of me on the road, and it seemed to be backing up at the same pace as I was going towards it. Finally, I got out of the car. The skull approached me, and a few feet of spine appeared behind it. It- no, she, I knew it was a she now, somehow- encircled me. I was expecting something awful to happen, but nothing did. The words, “It has arrived. Stay here if you want to live,” appeared to me in the mist.

Of course, I wanted to go back for Sharol. And I got into the car despite the horse’s protests, but I couldn’t find the turn-off to our house in all of the fog.

“Get rid of it!” I yelled at the horse skull. “I know you can! Get rid of this fog so that I can go back to my wife!”

The horse skull did not respond. I ended up just spending the rest of the night in my car, with the horse skull curled up on my lap.

The fog dissipated a few hours later, and I took that as a cue that it was safe to go back home. It was not a pretty sight. A quick look in the barn made it seem as though all of the livestock had been turned inside out, and various equipment had been thrown about. There were no bloody footprints on the ground, and anyhow, it would have been nearly impossible to butcher and flay so many animals in only a few hours. The inside of the house looked as though a hurricane had hit it. I remember stepping over piles of broken glass and pottery in the kitchen. I went up to our bedroom, terrified, but Sharol’s corpse wasn’t there. Maybe she’d gotten away. I went to the garage to see, and... there it was. The mutilated corpse of a human, with a sledge hammer in her hands. Black goo covered one side of the sledge hammer like blood. She’d been trying to fight off whatever had been here.

The horse skull put its chin on my shoulder in a comforting gesture. I picked up the sledgehammer from her hands, shaking with the temptation to bash the creature’s skull in for not doing any of the things it could have done to save her. The damn skull could have told me what was coming. It could have given her a message. It could have given me a message that I could have shared with her without showing her Buttercup’s disembodied guts.

In my anger, I took a swing at her, and the skull fell to the ground, seemingly undamaged somehow. In an instant, I could see her entire spine- I guess because she was out cold and wasn’t able to hide it anymore. The spine went right out of the garage door, out the door to my house, and down the street for what seemed like half a mile. I saw a car drive over it, seemingly clipping through as though her spine didn’t even exist. Then, it started moving, picking up into the sky. And she left. Maybe she was mad at me for being ungrateful for her protection, or scared that I’d hurt her again, or she just had the understanding that her work here was done. But whatever her reasons, I never saw her again.

#creepypasta #trevor henderson #my fanfiction #long horse #tw gore #tw violence

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cadomoisspokenfor · 3 years

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Legion Rewatch Notes,

Chapter 7:

The King In Yellow

Walter’s really putting his all into that whistling.

Kerry ended up losing Walter eventually. But I guess she was chased out of her hiding place by the zombies.

Theory: Much like how David feels most stable and confident when Syd’s around, Kerry feels most stable and confident when Cary’s around. She’s much less likely to lose a fight or get scared if Cary is in the vicinity. This would also explain why she feels so betrayed that Cary left her in Mental Clockworks. She works best when he’s around (power of love and all that) so when he’s not around she constantly feels like she’s on the ropes. Maybe only subconsciously though.

Lenny says “Hey” a lot.

So Farouk... actually seems distressed here. This is him at his least chill. He’s just shoved a person he actually cares about into a corner of their mind cause he just couldn’t understand them, the dream he’s created is collapsing and he has no plan on how to deal with it (rare for Farouk), and the location of his own body (his temple) is still lost to him after all this time.

Also, there’s apparently no specific place it could be. Farouk’s body could be anywhere on the globe. I guess he and everyone who knows about is aware that he could come back to his body if he knows where it is?

Even though it’s pointed out a lot I’ll also note that Charles is in his wheelchair in Amy’s flashback. And given future/past events (confusing, I know) this either means Farouk is the one who put him in a wheelchair, or whatever caused it happened between defeating Farouk and giving away baby David. And there’s... really not a lot of time in between those 2 events.

As we’ve seen before, while Farouk can probably see into Oliver’s ice cube residents, he can’t actually go inside or do anything to Oliver (or his guest) while he’s in there.

Farouk doesn’t want the dream to end until he’s located his body.

Cary is used to finishing Oliver’s sentences.

Cary and Oliver think very alike. The biggest difference between them I suppose is Oliver’s reality bending powers.

David never agreed to the barbershop quartet but Oliver put his name down anyways.

I never caught this before, but the thing that makes it obvious to Cary is the fact that the parasite called itself “King”. Before when watching this I thought “it’s just a name,” but I guess the point is... what other villain would be so hubris filled as to advertise who they are so openly. It speaks to the brazenness of Farouk. If Charles had ever checked back and found out David was talking to some invisible friend named “King” Farouk woulda been discovered then and there. I can only assume this means the name “King” was taunt of sorts. A joke only Farouk was in on. Not to mention, Farouk probably would never have settled for a name any less dignifying.

Oliver doesn’t remember any of his past friends, but he does remember Farouk. I wonder, did him and Cary hear about Farouk before or after Charles defeated him? Farouk hasn’t been publicly doing things for 30 years, and the only event that could reasonably be linked to him is Meiser Sunday. If they knew about him before Charles defeated him then that would just speak to his prolificness as a villain, I guess. “The Shadow King”, an unstoppable force for years until a random prodigy mutant gets him on his first try... or so they thought. I believe that’s how it happened in the comics too.

I’ll also note, Charles is an important figure in the mutant community, but it shouldn’t be discounted that the mutant community still existed and had a whole rich history before Charles even stepped on the scene. It seems like either Xaviers School doesn’t exist in this timeline, or they just don’t know about it. And given that, Summerland seemingly founded itself off the same general ideas of the Xavier School, but completely independently. Like 2 people coming up with the same idea on different sides of the planet.

Farouk’s weakness as Oliver puts it is, “He puts all of his energy into tricking David. Didn’t think to watch his six.” I wonder... is this a consistent weakness of Farouk’s? Could this be what Oliver means when he says he found his weakness in s2?

Oliver admits Farouk is too powerful for him. It’s not like he’s one to have a power complex, but it is interesting how shameless he is about it. He doesn’t really philosophize about that kind of thing, he’s matter of fact about it. Farouk’s got more measurable power than me, we need to find another way around him. He also notes though that *David* could defeat Farouk if need be. Everyone recognizes David as the top of the food chain.

Small note: I guess this is how it works between omega lvls. Always thinking of ways around each others raw abilities. Farouk knows David is too strong for him in s2, so he finds away around it. David knows he might not be able to hold out against Farouk’s built up experience, so he finds away around it. Brains over brawn every time, it would seem.

Cary feels really really bad for David. Seeing him screaming his brains out in a locked box knowing full well how much David hates small space. It’s very sweet. But also, 2 episodes Cary seemed a bit more standoffish about David. Knowing what he knows now recontextualized all those past events. David is a victim of something incomprehensibly terrible. He sees that now.

My boi Dan’s gonna need a lozenge after this one.

“We’re gonna need everybody.” They never get Ptonomy :/

I didn’t pick up on any of the other times, but Syd’s job here is to be a distraction. Sure, she has to protect the others in the process, but freeing them from the dream is the job of Cary, Oliver, and Melanie.

Still though, David is the victim who needs help here. He’s not the hero who saves them, he’s the one in need of saving. And Syd takes charge in the plan to do so and is tasked with protecting the others, making her once again closer to the hero archetype than David is. In the moment at least.

Syd’s talking fast cause they don’t exactly have all the time in the world here.

The zombies vanish but the architecture remains. There are “degrees” of real in the astral plane.

“Just thought it’d be interesting.” She’s over the whole “jumpscare haunted house” thing by now.

Silly me, the Melanie scene took place after Cary went to gather people. So it’s definitely Cary in the suit.

Melanie’s glad to see he’s back but she’s not completely love struck. Probably both cause he doesn’t remember her, and cause lovestruck Melanie was a result of her mind being altered to fit the delusion. Cary is guiding them out of the delusion so she’s back to her old self basically. Rational, and concerned with the mission.

This isn’t important, I just like how Melanie wakes him up here. It’s sweet, and bitter, cause it’s too late for him anyways.

Why does Farouk simulate this whole process for Rudy? What’s the use in tricking him if he already can barely do anything? We know Rudy gets him eventually, but it’s just surprising that Farouk recognizes him as being a potential threat.

Cary neglected to inform Syd who else he was personally waking.

Is Walter seeing the zombies too? Unclear. But he’s less chill about his tormenting now.

David starts using humor to cope. From what we’ve seen he’s been non-stop screaming for a while. It seems like he stops panicking as much specifically because his mind is fracturing to help him cope.

His first alter (that we see). Rational Mind.

RM says the coffin is just an “idea.” Very specific word choice there.

Rm tells him to forget all the “lies” he learned in memory work and the MRI. That was all Summerland stuff, though. “It’s your mind.” Essentially, trust yourself. You know who you are, don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise. Not even your new friends. Very reminiscent of, “You decide what is real and what is not.”

David doesn’t want to call his adoptive parents his parents anymore.

David’s happy to finally contextualize Farouk as a mutant and not a mental illness. It all starts making since to him, his whole life.

RM’s the first one to say “boohoo,” and it’s in response to David’s sadness over his bio-parents giving him away.

“I am pretty, I am loved.” “Good, keep going.” This mindset David’s falling into is specifically encouraged by his alters. In fact, it’s RM that pushes him down this path in the first place. David (non-Shadow King possessed David) has been avoiding this thought all season.

David’s a bit wrong here, and I think the difference tells us something important. David assumes Farouk possessed him after he was already living in the Haller’s house. But, we know it seemingly happened before Charles even got back from Morocco. So, given that Gabrielle’s mental health was already bad from post-partum depression (alternatively, it’s just the depression she already had) and Charles leaving her alone to go to Morocco, Farouk coming in and haunting the house probably sent things over the edge. David was most likely given away because Gabrielle wasn’t well enough to care for him like he needed, and Charles... 🤷🏾‍♀️ tbh. Might just’ve not wanted to raise David without Gabrielle. They both said they didn’t ant him to turn out like them. In s3 it’s made to seem like the house haunting was a combination of David and Farouk. David’s haunting time travelly presence probably made things worse, but Farouk would’ve gotten to the baby much sooner if not for him, and without David in the way Farouk probably would’ve upped his own intentional torments. The goal was revenge after all.

David assumes Farouk’s goal is revenge upon the whole world. Makes sense since that’s what Farouk’d been encouraging David to all season. And what he’ll continue to encourage him towards throughout s2 & 3.

Syd “woke him up.” She makes him more stable and sane. She grounds him in reality.

“I was sick, but I’m not sick anymore.” A moment of quiet deliberation with his alter and then he awakens with newfound confidence and a plan. This will repeat in a very tragic way later on.

Kerry, Syd, and a damaged comrade in a wheelchair. If I had nickel for every time this happens I’d have 2 nickels. Very weird it happens twice. Unless... mental clockworks and the end of s3 are supposed to parallel each other.

I assume the astral-plane diving suit protects whoever’s wearing it from psychic threats, much like the ice cube. At the moment, no one’s wearing it.

Sometimes psychics powers require a bit of miming to manifest. Oliver can’t just wave his hand and make a shield, not a strong enough one at least. Similarly, Farouk can’t just expand his mind into the future, he needs to go through a whole time machine building process in the astral plane.

Cary and Melanie seeing Walter get killed must hit hard for them considering he used to be a student of theirs. Sure, he turned against them, but still...

They juxtapose Walter dying with Rudy fully waking up. I wonder if that means it was his powers that were keeping Rudy docile and not necessarily the stab wound.

David is the one that wakes them all up, destroys the dream, and puts them back in their real bodies. And just in time for Cary to place the halo on his head. This is I think the first time David does a real act of super-heroism. The only potential one previously is saving Amy and he wasn’t really the one in control there. This is his first win against Farouk.

David’s not only got control of his powers, but control of himself for the first time, too. And it’s to the point where he’s perceiving things at lightning speeds and moving fast enough to catch bullets. Along with whatever power he’s using to halt the bullets momentum too. For now at least, this is our hero.

They play sinister music whenever he does the bright white light teleport. He does it again at the end of s2. Is it a specific kind of teleport, or is he just adding flair?

David didn’t teleport them directly to the base.

Kerry sadly looks at Rudy’s body.

Melanie looked around for Oliver but in doing so missed him meeting up with the others.

Everyone’s relaxing after their long fought for victory. David and Syd seem really happy. They find Oliver funny/charming.

When Cary’s talking to Kerry, in the background I can barely make out everyone else talking about potatoes.

David’s fine with Amy apologizing, just not in front of the others.

Instead of “The Poor Woodcutter and His Wife” Oliver calls it the “The story of The Lady and the Crane.”

Farouk doesn’t like small spaces either. Ha.

#legion fx

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fandom-blackhole · 3 years

Note

Hi!! I’m not entirely sure if your ships are still open and if not please just ignore this :)

More importantly: CONGRATS ON THE MILESTONE!!!!! You’re one of my favorite blogs and it’s nice seeing you get the recognition you deserve!

Okay the actual ship lol: I’m a pansexual 20 yr old female (so gender of the ship is totally up to you and generally I use she/her pronouns) and if possible, could I get a general star wars ship?

I would generally describe myself as pretty optimistic, I’ve been through a lot mental health wise and have come out the other side much more positive and realistic because of it. In fact, my friends call me sunshine or sunny because of how positive and “light” I can be. I have depression which can sometimes cause me to be down, but I work really hard to keep my mood stable. I’m super active (to the point where I want to be an athlete as a full-time job) and love running and cycling. I have two golden retrievers who are the light of my life and honestly keep me sane at times. I’m generally not one to be vulnerable, and I can’t ever say that I’ve truly shown my fully authentic self to anyone (which is something I’m working hard on but hey, takes time). I also seek reassurance often which is another thing I’m improving. I’m an INFP and generally think I fit the mediator personality type because I can calm pretty much anyone down and it’s easy for me to be the peacekeeper in a conversation. However, if anyone is treating others incorrectly (racist, sexist, etc.) I will not hesitate to loose my cool, to the point where my family has nicknamed me “firecracker”. I’m super loyal and very protective of those I love, but never in a possessive sense. I’m fairly tall, about 5’10 with brown hair and light brown eyes. My favorite color is yellow so most of my wardrobe is yellow or some variation of orange, though I do love anything olive green or deep blue. At times I’m pretty sensitive and occasionally have body image issues so some of my clothing is pretty baggy and comfortable. I’m a Buddhist, and mostly live my life by the peaceful standards set by Tibetan Buddhism. I take pride in being strong both physically and mentally and often support those around me to become better if they express the interest. I love being in nature and actually live in the middle of the forest, though I also love travelling and have been to most of Europe and some of Eastern Asia. All in all I’m a pretty grounded and peaceful person (even though I named a lot of contradictory things lol) and am always striving to better myself for those in my life and my future self.

Your ship!!

I would honestly ship you with Paz, I think you guys would fit together perfectly. Between your mutual love of children and animals, and his ability to be a calming and grounding presence for you, you would be the ultimate couple. I can imagine you guys going to town and just walking around the stalls hand in hand, and of course being the big teddy bear he is, Paz would buy you whatever caught your eye and surprise you with it later. Speaking of Paz being a teddy bear, can you imagine the snuggles?? Literally top tier. This man is soft™️ and would just envelope you and never let you go. I think your youse would have plants all over and probably some critters (both with four and two feet) running around. I also get the vibe that Paz would be super supportive of your interests, not thinking that your interest in death is weird but rather almost normal (being Mandalorian and all that) and I can also see you guys having really feel and in-depth conversations about death and subsequently life. As for how you meet... I think you’d most likely be helping with the foundlings or caring for animals (are there shelters in Star Wars? Now there are) and he would be all gentle with the kiddos/animals and you’d notice (because obviously, who wouldn’t notice the big strong man being so soft™️) . You might brush it off and assume he’ll never come back again because ~feelings~ but then when you see him again and he recognizes you, you might just go for it. He wouldn’t push you out if your comfort zone, but instead get to know you slowly. He’s also totally the type to remember all the little details about you like, you mentioned you were tired? Coffee the next day (or whatever you may use to wake up) you need a break from your shift? He remembers what you said your favorite restaurant is and is already getting you out the door. Once you guys have been together for a while I can imagine talking about having a house with some land along with more kiddos (let’s face it, all the bucket boys have a breeding kink) and he’d be okay if you didn’t want that life but would be thrilled if you agreed to the white-picket-fence dream he’s envisioned for you guys. 1000% the supportive s/o who drinks his respect women juice ™️ religiously. I can’t remember if you included your love language in your details, but if it’s touch ohhh boy and you in for a treat with Paz. When I said this man won’t let you go, I mean it. Big arms and large hands (😏) just holding you? *chefs kiss*. He would LOVE it when you lay on his chest and if you ever let him lay in yours and listen to your heartbeat? The man thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. You would also be the first person to see his face if you wanted to, which would probably cause both of you to cry (happy tears) ngl. Also, just a thought that won’t leave my alone, Paz is tatted to the nines but if you’re not into that then ignore this part lol.

Thank you again and congrats on the milestone. Like I said, you deserve this and so much more and it make me so so happy to see you finally getting the recognition you deserve.

Thank you so much for your kind words it means a lot, and thank you for being here, I really appreciate hearing from you and talking thots with you!

For your ship, I ship you with Obi Wan Kenobi!

Being a Jedi and following Jedi practices I think Obi Wan would really like that you follow Buddhism and follow a peaceful lifestyle because it is something similar to what he has grown up practicing himself. Obi loves your optimism and sees it as a breath of fresh air after all the negative things he goes through day by day while fighting in the war and being torn from his peacemaking ways into w war general. Obi absolutely loves your dogs, and don't feel bad if when he visits you he makes a beeline straight towards the dogs to give them pets immediately after saying hello to you. When Obi notices how much you like to be active, he will invite you to come to the training rooms at the temple where he will teach you how to spar so the two of you can spend time doing that, or just running the course that the Jedi have set up for training. Obi loves how much yellow and orange is in your closet and just your style in general, but he likes to tease you about owning so much yellow means that your favorite battalion is his own, the 212th, and how you are their little good luck charm. Obi is very much a peacekeeper and would rather negotiate an opponent down rather than fight, so he very much is glad that you are a peacekeeper as well. That being said though, he does like that you stand up for what you believe in and for others, it never fails to bring a smile to his face when you get a little feisty. Obi Wan is a very caring person and in my opinion very observative, so he will notice when you are feeling down around him and he will give you as much reassurance that you need. No matter what it is Obi will make sure and find a way to cheer you up because he hates seeing anything but a smile on your face.

OMG everything and I mean everything you wrote in your ship for me is perfect!!!

Paz buying me anything that catches my eye? I am dead. Paz being a big ass cuddly teddy bear? yes please, I want him to lay on top of me and squish me in a big hug. Having deep conversations with him? That is my shiiiiittttt. Paz remembering small things like how I take my coffee or tea or my fave restaurant? I am so fucking SOFT! Paz planning out a cute little home for the two of us? Ugghhhhh I can’t! And lastly, both of us crying when I see his face for the first time? Fuck, I am crying now goddammit!

Thank you for this, and thank you for being here and being so lovely to me!

(16/20)

#500 followers #ships #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader

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theotherackerman · 3 years

Text

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

NOTES:

Saturday, January 23rd

chapter twenty-six: when the butterflies turned to dust that covered my whole room

There was a problem with medication. Once one took it, people seemed to get the idea that one was cured. All those feelings one had earlier were simply gone. Disappeared into some sort of blackhole.

But they weren’t.

The medication stabilized, it made it easier to deal with.

This was the problem that Eren Jaeger was wrestling with today.

Grisha’s birthday creeped near.

It started Friday afternoon and continued into Saturday.

Eren couldn’t tell you why but suddenly he could hear Grisha’s voice in his head. Telling him the music wasn’t good enough. The music would never be good enough. Nothing Eren ever did was good enough. He would never be good enough for anyone. For Mikasa. For Armin. For Zeke. He didn't deserve any of it.

The same things Grisha would say when he was alive.

It didn’t take long for Zeke to notice the change in Eren’s mood.

“Eren,” Zeke said as he sat down on the couch next to his brother. “How are you?”

“I’m not good. Dad’s birthday is coming….I know it’s stupid….I’ve been thinking of him a lot,” Eren muttered before he looked down.

“It is not stupid, Eren. Is there anything I can do to help?” Zeke’s hand rested on Eren’s shoulder.

“I don’t know. I just...I’m going to go upstairs,”Eren said before he stood.

“Well, if you need anything…”

“I know. Thanks, Zeke.”

-------

Zeke Jaeger didn't drink that much.

For obvious reasons.

Much like his brother, it took far too many drinks to make him drunk.

But right now, he would give his left arm not to be sober.

Eren was breaking down as Grisha's birthday came closer.

Pieck was wrecked over Jean.

Niccolo was feuding with Sasha.

Reiner's aunt was in the hospital, dying.

The only sane ones were Marcel, Porco, and Bertolt who were far too wrapped up in a mix of school and work to do anything else.

This was insanity. It was the literal definition. Doing the same thing over and over expecting different results.

Zeke pulled out her phone and clicked on the contact.

"How do you do it?" Zeke asked.

"Are we friends now or something?" Levi's voice rang in Zeke's ear. "Because I thought you were somebody I paid hourly to listen to my bullshit "

"Okay, fine. Whatever. I am at the end of my rope here and you are the only semi sane person I know. I have two broken hearted people, another kid was a dying aunt, and my brother is going through a mental health crisis because of our piece of shit father's birthday is coming! So a little friendship and compassion would be nice!"

Levi laughed.

He laughed.

Zeke wanted to commit murder.

"Hmm...seems like your kids are as bad as the ones here."

"They are not my ki…."

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Alright, Captain. I see what you did. But what do you do? I cannot deal with this level of heartbreak from all of them."

"Nothing. You do nothing. You listen, you let them cry. You hope they get through it. They're all past needing us to fight their battles. I see the guilt you have for Eren. Not getting him away from Grisha soon enough, saving him. But you've got to let that go. You can't save everyone. And you're there for them. That's what counts. Besides, you and I have bigger things to disassemble."

"I believe I gave you that advice."

"Learn to practice what you preach, doc. Also get more fucking friends. You think Eren wants Mikasa over there sooner? Would that help or make it worse?"

Zeke sighed. He thought about it.

Eren had improved since having Armin and Mikasa back into his life. That improvement was directly from their influence.

"If she does not have other plans, it could not hurt."

"How's he holding up?"

"Well, he has not injured himself or drank. So that is an improvement from last year."

"He injured himself?"

"Not on purpose. He slipped and fell. He hurt his arm. It looked very strange for a bit there."

"I'll tell Mikasa you called because Eren isn't doing well."

"Thank you. I just have to work and I worry while I am gone."

"Whatever. I'm hanging up now."

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

Stay stable.

Don't relapse.

Easier said than done when it came to the struggle with his bipolar.

Eren was walking a fine line recently. One between his sanity and his past.

The past was harder to deal with than Eren thought.

His phone rang.

It was Mikasa.

"Hey," he said after he answered the call.

"Hi. Zeke called Levi. He said you weren't doing very well."

"Yeah. It's not a big deal though. It's just...my dad's birthday."

"Do you want me there?"

"More than anything. I mean you don't have to be here but I wish you were. Besides, it's getting late. I don't want you driving in th dark. I know how much you hate it."

"It's okay. I can come."

"No, don't. Tomorrow. Come tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Just...stay on the phone with me, okay?"

"Okay."

"Thanks, Mikasa."

"Anytime. Anything you want to talk about?"

"Hmmm….distract me. Tell me something I don't know about you."

"Eren, you know almost everything about me."

"Come on, there has to be something."

"Let me think...oh. When we won battle of the bands, we all went and got tattoos that sort of go together. They're all space themed."

"Oh. That's why you have a moon on your ankle."

"You noticed?"

"Of course, I did."

Eren noticed everything about her. How she laughed and the way her nose crinkled.

"Yeah, so I have a moon, Historia has the sun, Ymir has Saturn. Sasha has a galaxy and Annie has a star," Mikasa explained.

"Why the moon?"

"I don't know. I guess because I've always liked looking up at the moon."

"Hmmm…"

"What about you? Any secrets I don't know?" she teased.

"Oh. I've got a bunch."

"Really?"

"No. I wish. I've told you all mine. No secret tattoos."

"As you said...there has to be something I don't know "

"Uh...well I guess I have always wanted a tattoo especially since you and Armin have them."

"Wait! Armin has a tattoo?" Mikasa exclaimed.

"Oh. I thought you knew. With him dating Annie, I thought she would have told you. He's got birds on his shoulder."

"Huh. I never knew that. What would you get if you could?"

"Well, at first, I wanted birds. Now...I'm not so sure. I guess that's why I haven't got one yet. Maybe something to mark everything I've been through, you know?"

"I do."

Eren and Mikasa talked all through the night about everything. About how Zeke let stray cats come into the house. They talked about writers block and how they both failed at getting rid of it. They talked about what Zeke's house was like in the winter.

They just talked.

Eventually, they both fell asleep on the phone together.

#mmtylif #my writing

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bloodandblackink · 3 years

Text

The inside of a poet’s mind

(From a person who uses it as a coping mechanism.)

Someone wise once said and I quote “we’re poets honey, we bleed on paper.”

what and who are poets actually? Just some humans that according to mentally stable humans with sane minds are somehow blessed with the “art of portraying situations beautifully on a piece of paper?” but, what are they if not this?

Who are they;

A poet’s mind is like a blank canvas, that has had numerous emotions spilled over it like paint. The pages are actually nothing more than bandages to us. We just put those on our wounds to stop the bleeding. It’s not our fault the blood decides to act like ink. The process; It’s never beautiful, its ugly, messy, horrible..slitting our wounds again and again to let the poisoned blood by past lovers out again and again, so that it never gets the power to fully ruin us. As gus waters once said and I quote,”you put the killing thing right between your teeth, but you don’t give it the power to do the killing.”

Nevertheless, they break and break. the beautiful thing about poets is that, their minds; they’re tricky.

Love them; and they’ll make the whole world fall in love with you.

See yourselves from their eyes and you’ll never see yourself the same again.

Die; and you’ll be alive in their pages.

Break them; and they’ll end up breaking every heart around them

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 180

180

Lance cleaned. He cleaned like a vampire possessed. Nothing escaped his cleaning. From the top of the house to the bottom was vacuumed, mopped, scrubbed, washed, packed and organised. He didn’t stop for sleep. The door to the nursery was shut. The room taboo in the household. Every trace of Keith’s scent was washed away. Keith’s things packed up neatly. Some things slightly tear damaged and a photo frame may now be glassless as it’d been hurled out the bedroom window in a fit of anger. Kosmo didn’t escape. He got bathed, groomed, nails clipped, and bedding washed. Blue got extra wet food, plenty of snuggles, and carried around as she protested loudly.

Stripping his bed, he told himself he was being stupid sleeping with so many blankets. He was a grown man, and grown men didn’t act this way. He also didn’t stop limiting his strength. Able to lift most furniture one handed as he vacuumed, then again as he ran the mop over the floor. Frustrated at the lack of speed with human appliances, he’d nearly hurled the washing machine outside in a fit of rage when the rinse cycle took too long. If Keith couldn’t love him any more, he needed to stop relying on him and believing in love like a dumb teen. Show after show was deleted from his watch lists. He’d have deleted the whole section off streaming if he could have. Matt and Rieva were in Platt so Keith could get used to their scents before the moon, leaving him alone, after asking Pidge and Hunk for some space and time to rest up.

Every single particle of his house reminded him of Keith. Every joke they’d shared. Every dumb plan they’d made. The scratches in the floorboards from where Keith tried to kill him. All the good times. By the time he was done, the only scent in the air was the “pine fresh” scent of aerosol disinfectant and cat poop from Blue’s litter tray. When the house was clean, he started baking. In all his cleaning, he’d forgotten Keith’s favourite coffee cup. Seeing it sitting next to the coffee machine, he missed the other half of his soul that didn’t seem to exist any more.

Keith... Keith didn’t know what to make of the world anymore. Fangs. Claws. Yellow eyes. A rage inside him that couldn’t be contained. He didn’t know left from right. Everyone was a foe. Everyone including the one person who absolutely hadn’t been. Lance. Lance who smelt like something he wanted to roll in. Lance who’s egos made him all weird and jumpy, and this weird other messed up self mad for no reason that he could understand. He didn’t know it’d be like this. This... this existence. He didn’t know this and he didn’t know himself anymore.

He was scared. He was scared of the world. He was scared of himself. Lance came and said a lot of things to him, and he didn’t get it. Lance was being kind and sweet, but he was just so angry. He hated this. Lance hated him. Then Lance loved him. Then Lance was leaving. Then Lance wanted him at the scan. Then he didn’t. Then he was gone. And he didn’t get it. He didn’t get why he opened his mouth and said the wrong thing. He’d driven Lance away from him. They’d been so happily in love. Every single touch radiated love. He didn’t really remembered mad at Lance. Coran said that was coma related and okay. He just... didn’t... How could he be around Lance when he was this mad?

Starting small, Keith wasn’t allowed out the medical wing. He’d Shiro twice. The third time he couldn’t look at him. His ego saying some not so nice things about his brother. He got Shiro didn’t want him to die and that he’d thought this Keith’s only chance. But Lance didn’t like him like this. He didn’t like him like this. Everything was too much, but it didn’t stop coming and he didn’t know what to do. He was being too blunt. Krolia had tried to have a conversation with him, but then he’d gotten all cranky and before he knew it he’d broken the hospital table in front of him. He couldn’t do anything right. He just... wanted Lance. He wanted Lance to fix things. To fix him. The furthest he’d gone since turning was down the hall and back again, to get him used to sounds. God. He hated sounds. He didn’t see how he’d ever get used to things he’d never noticed before. As he sat waiting patiently, he could see Coran on the phone outside the room. He looked worried and Keith knew he’d taken the call outside so Keith couldn’t hear what he said. They were probably organising his execution order instead of letting him go see Lance.

Letting himself back into the room, Coran looked upset. He smelt funny. If old man had a scent that smelt slightly like mushrooms were growing on him, that’d be the closest thing to Coran’s scent he could come up with. Sitting down, Coran rested his head in his hands. This was Lance related and Keith fucking knew it. His ego disgustingly annoying. How could it be okay with Lance hurting, and hurting for Lance? How Matt, Rieva, and Lance made a family, he didn’t know

“What is it? He doesn’t want me there, does he?”

With a pained groan, Coran raised his head. The man seemed as if he hadn’t been sleeping well. Actually, this had to make the top 20 times he’d seen Coran stressing

“Well. What happened?!”

Keith had noticed he’d turned into Krolia 2.0 with the bluntness. He could see why werewolves were thought of as dicks, because he felt like a bag of ducks deserving a dick punch

“I’m sorry, my boy. I think you may have to stay here. Rieva and Matt returned home today... Lance has had a bit of a breakdown”

What did Lance have to be having a breakdown over?! He wasn’t suddenly a werewolf. There went this stupid poxy new ego of his. He didn’t like it

“What do you mean?”

“He’s cleaned the house and shut himself up in his office”

That didn’t sound that unusual. Lance took pride in his house being neat and organised. Plus Pidge and Hunk would keep him from going too far into his head

“He left two days ago”

Keith wanted to shut up. Why did he have to be so angry? Why did his ego see Lance hitting the end of his mental rope as weak. Lance wasn’t weak at all. He was strong, kind and very beautiful. Why did every emotion have to be anger. Happy, nope, better glare at the world. Confused, whelp, better snap. Actually angry, here came the growls, snarls, and claws. Lance was beautiful. But suffered from low self esteem and anxiety. He knew that... But how did he know that? He wasn’t Keith anymore. He shouldn’t know things about human Keith’s life.

“Yes. It seems he told Hunk and Pidge he came to rest, cleaned the house, and locked himself away, instead of resting. Rieva said he’s stripped and remade his bed”

What was wrong with that? That’s what he normally did

“I must go to him”

“He’s probably just working”

“Keith, you misunderstand. Rieva said he’s... not in a good state”

“Lance loves cleaning”

“His bed only had one blanket on it. He’d denying himself the comfort of a nest, and gone against his instincts to nest. The staff barely managed to bring him out of labour. He doesn’t know how close he truly came to things being too late. I fear he wishes to do something very stupid. He called Curtis, asking if Curtis had ever heard of vampire returning to being a human”

Why would Lance want to be human again? Okay. Lance had always wanted to be human again. But he couldn’t carry the twins if he was human. His ego didn’t like that. It kind of liked the twins. It was a weird feeling. Like pride and confusion. What did Lance gain from being human. He wouldn’t...

“He wants to be human again because of me”

“I fear so. Curtis called Rieva, not knowing she and Matt were returning. They’ve both being commuting for work as it was. Lance feels that you cannot love him because he’s a vampire”

Keith let out a shaky breath. Ego angry. Him... shaken. That didn’t sound safe or sane. Two weeks was a lifetime when their lives were so messed up..

“If you’re going to see him, can I come?”

Coran lifted his head

“I don’t know, my boy. You’re still going through the changes of being turned. Your ego is currently unpredictable...”

“But Lance is hurting!”

With a shaky breath, Coran let his head drop again

“He’s been hurting for a long time. He didn’t wish the turn upon you. He and Shiro haven’t spoken to my knowledge since you woke. He requested we not be mad at Shiro, knowing Shiro was in an impossible situation with me unable to do anything. I tried all I could. But each time I adjusted your quintessence you had a negative effect. Initially when you were comatosed, Lance’s presence kept you stable. You seemed to know he was there, despite that being quite impossible. He made you a nest, gathered things of comfort, trying to make this transition less scary for you. But as strong as he is, he couldn’t help but lose his cool when it came to you. He combatted his depression staying by your side to care for you. He still loves you a great deal. Any actions you perceive were done in pity, were done in with great love and respect. He knew his presence may lead to insanity by overwhelming you with his own ego, that is the sole reason he left. He placed your health and needs above his own... It was agonising to watch”

And what had he done? Lost his cool because he didn’t know why there now felt like were two of him in his body? Told Lance he wanted to die? That he’d rather be dead than with him

“I hurt him”

“I spoke with Allura. Lance understands. He too went through the change, though he was much younger and slept longer before waking. Vampires also don’t rely on the first full moon to stabilise their egos. She said Lance was most distraught over having broken your trust in him”

This was what Keith didn’t get. How Lance could love him when he wasn’t Keith anymore. Lance smelt weird, but maybe it wasn’t a bad kind of a weird. It was kind of a weird that made him want to roll around in it

“Coran. I don’t know. He loved Keith. I’m not Keith anymore”

Coran chuckled, the sound turning deep into a proper laugh. Trying to recompose himself, the fae wiped at his eyes as Keith clenched his hands, angry automatically

“Sorry, lad. If you’re not Keith, then I don’t know who you are. Just because you’re now a werewolf doesn’t mean you’ll forget being human, or have a whole new identity. You’re still Keith, you just Keith with a little extra now. Goodness me, don’t tell me you’ve been fighting with your memories. You’re still you, my boy! Yours and Lance’s quintessence are still very much connected. That may have wavered but it’s still there. Fancy thinking you weren’t Keith. That would be like Matt not being Matt. I will say, once the moon passes you will notice I real change in my our ego”

Keith felt like of how Kosmo looked each time he had to scold him. He didn’t know how this worked. All Lance’s explanations on ego seemed lacking, not that Lance hadn’t tried, he’d thought he got. He didn’t. He was so tired of being angry, but was angry at himself for being angry so it was kind of like being stuck in an infuriating loop

“So I’m still me?”

He didn’t feel like him. He wouldn’t be so angry at Lance if he was him

“You are, my boy. I know it’s very scary right now, but things will be better. You managed not to snarl at Matt the last time he visited. That’s excellent progress for a wolf who wasn’t been touched by the moon”

He hadn’t liked being visited. He felt like a caged animal on display

“Will this anger ever go away?”

“With time. Oh, dear. We really must be going to see Lance. Any later and you’ll transform in the car. I’m most anxious to drive again today. I’ve been practicing”

Coran still couldn’t drive. Keith frustrated and feeling quite ill well before leaving city limits. The restlessness he felt seemed to have turned his stomach into a pit of snakes. He could hear the way the car gears screamed in abuse each time Coran tried to change gear. This was not fun. Maybe it’d have been safer for him to stay at VOLTRON for his first full moon. Matt and Rieva always seemed to be particularly horny and energised before it happened, but they weren’t douches to Lance like he’d been. He hadn’t even asked Coran for a phone to talk to Lance, as Lance had suggested he did. The amount of faith a vampire seemed to have in him made his ego go all weird. How was he supposed to be with Lance if he seemed to hate the mere fact his boyfriend existed?

And that was another thing. Were they still boyfriends? Like, boyfriend boyfriends? Or estranged boyfriends? Lance didn’t come see him until Shiro went running to him. His Lance would have flipped the world off and stayed. This Lance wasn’t acting right. Like Lance was mad and he could feel it in the air. He didn’t get it. If this was his Lance, than why did he have to be mean and cruel to feel better? He felt like everyone who’d ever bullied him had taken over his body and now he enjoyed inflicting pain as much he did.

Reaching Lance’s house, things felt stranger than ever. He knew the house. He knew the drive. He knew it, but it was as if he was seeing everything all over again. The sounds of nature made him feel as if he had that chirping arsehole symphony of cicadas playing just for him. He could smell cow shit... something dead... Lance... as well as two werewolves. Lance always said they smelt like wet dog. He supposed there was a definite trace of that. Matt didn’t smell awful, but he did smell like he needed to be on guard around him. Rieva smelt nicer. Like flowers and girly shit... and stuff. Matt was pretty growly too. Apparently sniffing someone’s mate was a no go, even if you’re only trying to tell your ego that they’re not a threat.

Opening the door, Kosmo came bounding out. His precious boy all paws and no grace as he crashed into Keith, knocking him on his arse as he took a paw to his junk

“Kosmo!”

Kosmo yipped as he gave exactly zero fucks, pushing Keith down and laying on top of him. What the hell was this? Kosmo had knocked him down in the past, but wasn’t he supposed to be a powerful werewolf now. And why was he laying on him. Coming out the house, Rieva came jogging over, Keith growling at her sending Kosmo bolting away from him with his tails between his legs

“That’s enough out of you. Coran, thank you for coming. Keith... what are you thinking letting Kosmo climb on you? He’ll never respect you as his owner if you let him boss you around”

Keith spluttered. His ego bruised enough over being taken out Kosmo

“Me? He knocked me down!”

Rieva placed her hands on her hips as she stared down at him

“Because he’s missed his human. He’s been glued to Lance’s side until Lance shut him out the office. Coran, I think it’s best you go see Lance right away. The sun will be setting soon and Keith needs a run down on what to expect”

Coran took the weirdness in his stride. All their friends were so goddamn weird

“Right you are, my girl! Matt not here?”

“He’s around the back trying to stop Lance if he tries to climb out the window. I did tell him Lance was too pregnant to be running off, but you know Matt”

“I’ll make sure to talk some sense into Lance. You two enjoy your run. Please don’t let Keith do anything stupid”

“Coran, you know Keith. He and Lance are very stupid”

Coran winked at the pair of them

“In all the right ways. Rightyo, I’ll see you two later”

Left with Rieva, Keith continued to stare up at her. He’d only come to see Lance, this whole moon thing made little sense

“Stop staring. You’ll be changing soon, and I suggest you not do it in the drive way”

“I’ll be changing?”

“You’ll be meeting your wolf side tonight. The first step is getting naked”

Oh no. Not more nudity. He wasn’t okay with the nudity

“I... uh...”

Rieva thrust her hand out

“You can’t deny it. You feel the energy don’t you? We feel it. Like there’s electricity in your body with no where for it to go”

“How do you know?”

Rieva rolled her eyes at him

“I’ve been a werewolf for years now. I think I know when I meet a newly turned wolf. Though you are rather sane so that does make talking easier”

“I don’t feel very sane”

“You’d be feeling differently if you weren’t. Tearing at your own skin by now. I was not entirely convinced in Coran’s methods, but you have definitely changed”

“What methods? He had someone bite me while I was unconscious”

“He did no such thing. He even chose a different werewolf at the request of Lance, trying to spare you the awkwardness of having one of us sure you. Now, out to the back with you. Unless you want your clothes destroyed when you turn”

Reluctantly Keith took Rieva’s hand. He didn’t feel like he was going to turn into anything. He just felt... cranky. Scowling at Rieva, Rieva ignored his mood, leading him off behind the house.

Matt gave up his window duties when Keith and Rieva came around the corner. Kalternecker letting out a lazy moo, eyeing him with zero interest

“Keith! Oh, man! Look at you. How do you feel?”

“Cranky”

“I remember my first time. Rieva turned me on a moon, so I was lucky there. We’ll have you back to normal soon enough”

“Matt, be nice. He’s still developing his ego. Keith, how do you feel?”

“Like I want to punch myself in the dick”

Rieva giggled at him

“We’ll the moon is in the sky. But you really do need to strip off. It won’t be long now”

“Can I not?”

“And have Lance sew your clothes back together? I think he’s having a hard enough time as it is. The house has never looked cleaner”

“Lance cleans all the time”

“Ah, but this time he cleaned Blue’s litter tray twice, before crying when she messed it up a third time. Now, clothes off!”

Keith hid himself behind Lance’s roses to strip. Matt and Rieva not caring as they stripped off in the backyard. Matt scolded for not picking up his clothes. Keith didn’t get how Matt’s ego could take it... and look happy about it. Whistling as he dropped his pants, Keith glared at Rieva who clapped her hands

“Take it off!”

“Fuck off”

Matt chuckled at him. Keith wanted to thump him

“Oooh, this is going to be so much fun. Have you gone over ground rules?”

Rieva shook her head

“Not yet. But you can, if you’d like?”

“Okay, man! Listen up. Rieva is my mate. She sets where we go and how far we go. If we get horny, you go away. I’m not to blame if you come too close to my mate. That’d be like me watching you and Lance have sex... actually, that wouldn’t be too bad, but it’d be more like me being in the middle of it and I’d prefer to keep my balls. You stay with us. If you get lost, stay where you are. We can sniff you out. You don’t come back to the house until the sunrises again. No chasing humans and no going near town. Pack playing is a thing. We fight and we bite, but it’s not to hurt each other. Oh! Don’t wake Lance up. And don’t try to hump a stray dog... What am I forgetting?”

“The most important thing. You’ll be overwhelmed. You’ll want to run. Let yourself run. It’s good for you. It gets the good feelings going. You’ll only be able to partly control your ego, so you’ll howl and do all sorts of wolf things that you don’t need to be embarrassed about. You’ll probably feel really horny too”

This didn’t sound fun. Rieva and Matt kept staring at him

“What?”

“We’re waiting for you to come out of there”

“I don’t think I want to”

“Dude, get used to the nudity. Babe, can I shift now?”

“If you want to. I can watch Keith”

“As long as that’s all you do”

Rieva wrapped her arms around Matt, the pair sharing a very passionate kiss. He used to kiss Lance like that. He missed Lance. Why couldn’t Lance be a werewolf? Then he’d be able to be with him... Shifting into a wolf, Keith noticed things he hadn’t noticed before when the pair had turned. Like the way Matt’s bones cracked in a way that sounded like agony. Lance looked so cute when he “batted out”. A little ball of anger that fit nicely under Keith’s chest and fed off his fingers with those razor sharp teeth of his.

Nudging at Rieva’s leg, Rieva ruffled the fur between Matt’s ears

“I’ll join you soon. Why don’t you race to the back fence and back, warm up a bit for tonight?”

Matt nudged up into Rieva’s hand, before fixing Keith in the gaze of his yellow eyes. Keith feeling like someone had doused him in cold water. Rieva was Matt’s mate. If he touched her, Matt would tear his throat out. How this was going to be fun, Keith didn’t know.

Uncomfortable being naked, Keith sat on the grass. Blades stabbing into his bare arse as he hugged his knees to his chest and waited for something to happen. His butt felt wet and he didn’t like it. With his keen sense of smell, he knew he wasn’t sitting where Matt had peed. He’d never noticed how much things smelt. From outside he could smell the scent of tea on the air. He’d heard Lance answer the door to Coran. Lance knew he was here, but he hadn’t come out... and Keith didn’t like it

“Stop thinking. Let the feeling build”

Easy for Rieva to say. She wasn’t stuck in this weird arse situation. Looking back at the house, he wanted Lance to appear in the doorway

“He won’t come out. It’s safer for him and your twins to stay inside”

“He doesn’t even want me here”

Rieva smacked his arm

“Don’t be stupid”

“He wanted to know how to be human again. He doesn’t like me like this”

“He adores you”

“That’s why I’m here and he couldn’t care less”

“If you’re going to be like this, I’ll leave you alone for your first turn”

“No one asked you stay! Go on then”

“Damn it. We both know I wouldn’t. Being a werewolf isn’t too terrible”

“Says you”

“Yes. Says me. Both Matt and I enjoy a relative non limiting normal life. It is possible... oh, I’m going to shift... I can feel the changing coming. It’ll hurt for your first time, but as fast as your body is breaking, it is healing. The more you change your form, the less it’ll hurt”

Rieva shifted into her wolf form, howling at Matt who was running around like an idiot. It disturbed Keith that he could see the pair. Running over to his mate, he tackled Rieva down, Rieva nipping at Matt’s ear, before looking at Keith as if to ask him why he hadn’t turned. How should he know? He was sitting. The slimmest line of red had already disappeared. Maybe he was broken wolf? That’d be hilarious. And just about on par with his life. Opening his mouth to the tell pair to fuck off, he felt the bones in his hands start to shift, horrified as his skin slowly rippled and tuffs to fur pushed through. The pain was immense, yet he couldn’t help but scream when that pain hit his chest and he could literally feel his ribs cracking. Rieva was right. The pain was weird, he could feel it, then came this almost rush of release on its heels.

Turning for the first time took time. His body writhing on the grass before the pain finally left and he was left feeling limp. Looking down to his hands, he saw big black paws. With all the grace of Kosmo after taking a thermometer up the butt, Keith rose to his feet, everything seemed so much bigger, clearer... with a growl, he got that Matt wanted him to follow him. Keith trying to work out how to move his legs. He felt like he looked like one of those cats from the videos where the owner puts cardboard rolls on their legs and they walk funny. He didn’t like it. He swayed like he was drunk. He could smell way too much. The dew on the grass. The birds in the trees... and his hearing... He could hear the TV on in the house, but somehow knew Lance wasn’t watching it. Miserably failing at walking, his legs got tangled and he fell.

Matt didn’t laugh at him. Keith confused by the fellow wolf’s actions as he trotted over started pushing into Keith’s side. Oh. Matt was trying to get him back on his feet... his feet that felt weirdly big. They’d said he’d lose control... was he supposed to be thinking in wolf? Was he thinking in wolf and his brain translating to human? Or was he thinking in wolf and just knew what it meant? Raising his moist nose, he sniffed the air. Something smelt really, really good... and he wanted to pee on it. Growling at him, Matt practically shoved him onto his feet. Keith stretching out each step. He knew how to human walk, but four legs... they didn’t move like his arms and legs. His ego was laughing at him. Mocking him. It was so weird. It didn’t have an actual voice yet he understood it so clearly. He was a wolf. He was a werewolf. Top of the chain. His actions were disgracing himself and the werewolf community.

Not moving fast enough, Matt nipped on his ear. Keith letting out a whine so pathetic he wanted to be scooped up like when Kosmo was a puppy and carried around. He could scent Lance way too clearly. His ego like “Who the fuck is this!?”, while his heart longed to see Lance and show him he’d made it through to this stage. Casting his gaze up to the moon, he really could feel something there. An imaginary tug. Almost as if the moon was so much closer to Earth than it should be. He couldn’t see the craters on the moon, yet it shone pretty damn prettily up there in the blue black inkyness of the sky.

Moving back to his side, Rieva nudged his front foot with her equally wet nose. Matt growling at the pair of them as Keith breathed in her scent. Parts of him were tingling, but not for her. What was this? 30 seconds in and he was horny? Is that what it was always like? He could smell Matt wanted Rieva as badly as Rieva wanted Matt. He wanted to bite Matt, but this was all so weird. Nudging his foot again, Keith took a cautious step forward, stretching out his leg then not sure how to make the rest of his body reach his front paw. The grass was squishy... squishy and he could feel the grains of sand against his paws. He didn’t like it. His body wanted to run, but there he was... not even able to walk. Whining sadly, Rieva huffed, knocking into him, and making him fall back over. Why did he have to have four legs?! No one needed four legs! Is this why octopi had 8. Because four sucked?

Rieva and Matt ended up boxing him in. Keith moving his legs to match their steps. He felt huge compared to them. Their paws seemed nicer than his huge black ones. His huge black ones just wanted to trip him over... He must have got the hang of it though, before he knew he’d done it, he’d reached the back fencing with the pair of them. Casting a glance back at Lance’s, he could still pick up traces of Lance. He didn’t want to cross the fence line, but his new pack gave him no choice. Rieva going first to show him how it was done, then when he failed and got his legs tangled up again, Matt grabbed him by the scruff and dragged him over the wooden fencing and off towards the wooded area in the distance.

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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spookidema · 4 years

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3 a.m Conversations

Prompt: Angst/Fluff

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” “....Because I couldn’t bring myself to be the one to sully your naive innocence.” “You underestimated me." “I did.” “......Are you disappointed?” “I’ve never been happier to be wrong in my entire life.”

Pairing: Gang!Kang YeosangXReader

Summary:The number of times you have been stood up by your boyfriend on date night has you questioning. What could a host of one of the most popular restaurants in Seoul be doing not coming home until 2/3 in the morning when the restaurant closes at 9? Why did you only see him in the morning when you two woke up together? Was he cheating? Was he really 'working' as he tells you in your texts? What was he doing, and why was he lying to you? It's about time you found out the truth.

Taglist: @alwayschoosechocolate

~~~~~

Two things you were not expecting when you made the plan catch your boyfriend coming into your shared apartment. One. He arrived home at 3 in the morning. And two. He was covered in blood (you hoped it wasn't his cause there was a lot). You dropped the book you started reading to keep you awake to catch Yeosang as he walked in.

"What the fuck, Yeosang," you shrieked rushing to his side catching him off guard.

"What are you doing up, (Y/N)," he said crossing his arm in an attempt it cover up the stains revealing that more blood on his forearms with a long scrape that stretched the length on it.

"What are you doing covered in blood," you frantically said grabbing his wrist pulling at him to the bathroom.

Yeosang stood grounded in the entrance of the apartment.

"What are you doing up," he repeated his question his voice grew darker the second time he asked meaning he wanted the answer right now.

A shiver run up your spine as you held your head down tugging on Yeosang's wrist.

"You wouldn't tell me anything," you softly spoke."I wanted to be sure my mind wasn't playing tricks on me."

"And what trick was that," Yeosang bluntly asked causing you to whine. "Maybe I had a good reason to not tell you, (Y/N)."

"Can we talk about this while we get this cleaned up, please," you weakly asked tears collecting in your eyes getting a short 'Fine,' for your answer.

Yeosang let you lead him into the bathroom, and sit him on the seat of the toilet. You studied Yeosang taking in the sight of him. His usually neatly styled blond was tasseled with specs of crimson in it along with a couple on his face. His white t shirt under his leather jacket was covered in blood. His hands had blood on them, and the blood on his forearm. You must have started to space off looking at him causing him to softly tap your cheek.

"Captain (Y/N), its time to come back to Earth," he said snapping you out of your daze.

You jumped slightly and blushed before you turned to grab and dark washcloth and wet it. As you tried to start cleaning up his face, he stopped your hand from touching his face.

"Jagi," Yeosang started," what were you trying to find by staying up waiting on me to come home?"

"I-," you could bring yourself to even start your sentence.

"Jagi."

"I uh-."

"(Y/N)."

"I wanted to know if you were cheating on me or not," you rushed out looking away from your boyfriend, whose normally straight face in serious conversations was awestruck. "You have been gone so much, and I barely see you. I thought you got tired of me and found someone new."

Yeosang's hand dropped from your hand letting you start cleaning his face. He watched your face as you became focused on getting rid of the crimson that was drying on his face. You re-soaked the cloth and rung it back out before kneeling down to start on his arm and hands. Silence was all you both heard in the room save for the sound of A/C in the apartment running and the sound of each other's breathing.

"You really thought I would cheat on you," Yeosang stated softly making your shoulders slump slightly."You thought I would cheat on the light of my life."

You were silent at his statement confirming it.

"I wouldn't in 1000 years cheat on you, Jagi," he said softly taking the hand that you had finished and lifting your face with his index finger and thumb under you chin. " I wouldn't even cheat on you passed that 1000 years, and I would never leave you. You know that right?"

"I know," you whispered feeling like a fool.

"Good," he smiled softly at you.

Silence filled the room as you continued your work.

"I'll bandage the scrape after you shower and get the blood out of your hair," you informed him before you turned to leave the room. His hand stopped you by grabbing your wrist. Yeosang started to say something before you stopped him.

"After."

Yeosang nodded as you left the room.

A million thoughts were running through your mind as you sat on the edge of the bed you shared with Yeosang. What pot had you done stirred? What world had you walked into? What Yeosang going to tell you when he walked in the room? You didn't know what to expect.

Yeosang entered the room drying his hair with a towel and headed to the dresser to quickly get dressed to join you on the bed. Once he finished, he sat beside you and held his hand upwards for you to possible hold which you did.

"Why did you come home covered in blood, Yeosang," you asked quietly." Please I want to truth."

Yeosang sighed lowly.

"You know the gang that the news has been talking about lately," he questioned.

"Ateez? Yes," you answered." You told me you didn't understand why they would report on such a small gang when there were bigger gangs that they should be highlighting on. I feel like you are about to tell me you are a member of Ateez."

Yeosang grimaced at you causing your eyes to widen and your jaw to drop.

"I am," he said tightening the hold on your hands."I'm one of the heads along with the other."

"Even Jongho," you asked in awe,”But he is baby.”

"Even him," he said.

"So you do what in this gang," you nodded taking in this information.

"I'm the hacker," he replied." I'm normally out of the fire fight unless absolutely necessary. Tonight I wasn't even supposed to be in the fight, but Hongjoong called me in."

Silence ensued once more.

"I understand if you want to leave me, (Y/N)," Yeosang said breaking the silence." I'm a criminal, and you shouldn't let someone like me ruin your life."

You looked at your boyfriend a little awestruck to hear that. Not once did you ever think this is what you were going to find out when you made the plan to catch your boyfriend coming home. You looked him in his face. His eyes were glassy with tears that have yet to fall, and had dark circles under them. His cheeks were slightly hollowed like he hadn't eaten in a couple days like you know he would do if he was under a lot of stress. He looked all around tired, heavyhearted, and scared.

"You know when I made the plan to stay up until you walked in the door," you said." I thought I was going to catch you sneaking in after cheating on me not you coming in with blood all over you."

"Baby," Yeosang explained," I would rather walk through fire than put you through the pain of that. I'm sorry that I gave the impression that I was doing that."

"I know," you said quietly." I'm sorry I assumed."

The world seemed to become quiet around you two.

"Again, (Y/N) I would understand if you wanted to leave me," Yeosang repeated.

"You are an idiot, you know that," you said staring at him blankly causing he to look at you appalled." You really think I would leave you just like that. Jesus."

"Yah, no sane person would want to date someone that in a gang, (Y/N)," he said.

"Cause being a member of a gang is so sane," you rolled your eyes smiling softly." Then again when have we ever been sane?"

"Hey, I perfectly mentally stable," Yeosang agrued. " Do you know how much danger you are going to be in now that you know what I do outside working at Treasure?"

"Yes I do, and that’s not doing to stop me," you said with your smile turning into a devilish grin. "Plus I would have a amazing boyfriend to come to my rescue if things go wrong like the prince you look like. Ooooo a gangster prince. A new Disney movie."

Yeosang laughed wholeheartedly.

"Maybe you aren't as naive and innocent as I thought," he laughed out smiling at you.

" I do have one question," you said. "Why didn’t you ever tell me?"

"Because I couldn’t bring myself to be the one to sully your 'naive innocence' he replied.

“You underestimated me, Yeosang," you said. " I could handle you telling me.”

“That I did,” he said. “Are you disappointed?”

“I’ve never been happier to be wrong in my entire life," you answered. " Now we can sort more of this in the morning."

Yeosang nodded as you two got comfortable in your bed. He laid on his back with you resting on his chest listening to his heart beat with the blanket pulled up to your nose.

"Good night, crazy person."

"Good night, gangster prince."

#kang yeosang #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #choi san #choi jongho #jeong yunho #jung wooyoung #song mingi #kang yeosang fanfic #ateez #ateez fanfic #gang au #kinda but not really #ateez angst #ateez fluff

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lmr-lea · 4 years

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idk whats the real purpose behind this text but i feel like there are some things that i just have to say in order to not fall apart rn. yesterday i cried, at some point it just hit me out of the blue and i started crying - unconditionally and without a reason. afterwards i cried some more - stayed up until 4 am and cried even more after that. everything crashed down at once, job, university, me manipulating all my relationships until i pushed everyone away. i never really gave myself time to process and to think about everything that happened during this, or even last year, i‘ve always been a rly private person (outside of this acc🤣).

i’ve always loved love - because i love so deeply, because i care so mutch abt people who care so little. my expectations of people fucked me up over and over again. i held people up while i was at my lowest.

last night i prayed, i turned all the lights down and kneeled in front of my bed. eyes closed. i enjoyed the 20 minutes of silence. and after i finished i came to the conclusion that its me. even tho its hard to really let shit like this sink in, its always been me. i manipulate every relationship i have / have had over the past years because i always felt like i haven’t been enough. whenever someone treated me right i got scared and ran away. whenever someone cared about me i thought their unloyal to me out of my toxic experiences during the past.

the fact that im going to be alone for the next 4 weeks (work usw. is shut down due to corona issues) scares the fuck out of me.

i dont even know what is going on right now but ist so fucking much that i dont even know what im crying abt no more.

its the guy thats not texting back, its the feeling that nobody gives a fuck abt me, its me not knowing whether i can or cant aford another month at my university. right now its everything.

last night i deleted every fake account on instagram (i dont even know why i had them in the first place), and im going to delete snapchat and twitter too- which might sound stupid to some of you is the only possibility for me to stay sane right now. there is so much grief and pain in my heart right now and i dont know where its coming from. im trying to give love everyday but it feels like the barrel has finally overflowed. right now should be about me and about me only. i know what i want. i just dont know how to get it rn - everyone teaches you how to love but nowbody teaches you how to let go. thats where my focused should be at right now.about letting go. about finding myself in all the places people left me in during the past years. everybody knows that my mental healt never been the most stable thing in the world. thats why im so scared. im scared to let go. im scared to leave the things behind that i love because if we dont have love, what do we have? i love oversharing because i wanted to be seen, i wanted to be noticed. right now all i want is peace and it seems like i lost it- i cant find it in my books, my paintings or crafting no more. i cant find it in my music or poetry anymore. i crave the deepest connections with people but im to scared to let anyone in. i want to be loved but i can’t accept love when i receive it. as i said i dont know what the purpose of this was. big thanks to everyone who took the time to read this nonsense. even bigger thank to those of you who took the time to understand my words. you are incredibly loved. please dont ever forget that. may you protect ur peace at all costs. may god keep all of you safe. love always

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bracedfangirl · 4 years

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I know I should be putting out the next Fatal Mistake AU chapter but-

School’s got me a little, and I can only put out snippets for a few more days, before I finish the end of the next chapter of it. So here I am with yet another teaser from the later part of the AU, introducing a very much unseen side of Morro

(Small clarification: For a reason the ninja and Morro will have to work together around 2 months after Lloyd dies. I’ll put it in a chapter too later, but if y’all want to know it just send an ask)

"So let me get this straight, Wu never told you anything about how souls and minds and all these things work?"

"Uh no..."

"Shit... Okay, then I guess we'll have to start with the basics… Soul types. There are 5 main ones, and each type has variations of it's own, and each type has a rarity and default traits. Trego, tria, geeda, keydro and sikol. Let's start with tregos. They're stable, possession suitable spirits, who are very common, and can heal their breaks and wounds. Aggressive and impatient most of the time."

Morro says while giving a subtle glare at Kai who tries to hide his offense without success.

"The red is the most aggressive, the intensity getting less in orange and yellow ones-"

"Well I bet Kai's one of these right?"

Jay totally fails changing the mood, but Morro seems to comply.

"You're spot on with that, he's the most hot headed red trego I've ever heard of."

"Hey!"

"What Flamehead? I'm just stating a fact. Anyway, the next are trias who... really differ by variation but are the most common... Possession suitable, usually able to heal their wounds. There's orange white and malachite. Malachite is fairly aggressive and possessive, orange is more like a sane, calm but protective spirit and white... well white is pretty much a very chill, calm and gentle variation."

Jay cuts in again, seemingly oblivious to who he's talking to.

"Okay well they may be common but I didn't recognise any of us."

"You gotta be kidding me! Three of you are trias! Nya's the most vicious malachite I've ever seen! Being an orange is written on Cole's face, and since Zane has an artificial mind, there isn't even any other option."

"What? When was I vicious with you?"

Morro laughs lightly at Nya's protest, before taking up his annoying smug grin, that's been sickening Kai ever since he first saw it.

"Who said I know your personalities from meeting you enough times in person?"

That causes an awkward silence, the urge to break the deal with Morro and just kill him already rapidly growing in Kai.

"A broken soul and a pretty much nonexistent mind doesn't have secrets if you're a possesser ghost. The memories just show up on hit..."

Cole has to keep him down after that, his boiling hatred threatening to burst out of him.

"Anyway back to the original topic, the next are geedas. While you can possess a geeda, it's not the best choice... These guys have issues with emotional control, and often are panicky or anxious. Somewhat stable, but not the best at fixing themselves. There's blue grey and yellow, the grey being the absolute embodiment of anxiety."

Cole snorts, looking at Jay with mischevious eyes.

"I'm sensing Jay in this one."

"He's a yellow one, the second worst to deal with."

"What- rude!"

Zane's eyes light up, and he turns to Morro, words chosen way too carefully.

"What are you? I didn't really see any match yet."

"I'm a keydro, probably a yellow one... Mood swings and emotion control issues are let's say common, but at least mine is so much of a hostile type that you wouldn't ever get possessed. It wouldn't end well for that ghost. We're more of possesser spirits in general. There's grey and green too, but there's not much difference."

Nya isn't exactly subtle at voicing her opinion, voice venomous.

"That would explain why you're such an asshole."

Kai's uncertain, quiet voice suddenly rings out, grief clearly staining it.

"What about Lloyd?"

Morro freezes mid-turn at that, stalling for a few seconds before sighing and flopping down on the ground, eyes miles away. His voice is quiet, and Kai catches a slight emotion in it, something he never thought he'd hear from the ghost.

"Sikol..."

It's terror… fear…

"Black sikol... and trust me, that's not something you want to meet in pure form. Especially not in… his case... Sikols are... unusual and… rare. They have insane mental birth defects, completely missing whole emotions sometimes..."

"Mother of god-"

"Too unstable for possession, but you can't recognise them at all... they don't have a trait you can see to recognise them. They can't heal either… at all."

"So that's why the kid still had nightmares about Darkley's years later-"

"Yes… their wounds stay open for years, making them unpredictable and agressive… Very aggressive… They're vicious, and don't care about anything… sometimes not even their own lives… There's white, gold, grey and black and-"

Morro takes a few seconds to stabilize himself before somehow continuing in a more panicked manner.

"And black ones resemble demons more than humans… they take a dragon like shape and a… shadow like appearance, with glowing wounds and eyes... Fighting one isn't just unwise, but downright suicidal… It's like you picked a fight with a rabid dragon!"

It's in that moment that the question he's been wanting to ask for months explodes out of Kai, anger and pain soaking his voice.

"Then why didn't you stop? If it was unwise and dangerous why didn't you just let him go and try possess one of us? Why him?"

"Because he was the leader, and if I let him get home and tell you about me I won't have a second chance! It's just simple strategy Kai! Besides this way there's at least one person who knows how close he was to snapping permanently... an abandonment break blinding your soul's right eye isn't something you can ignore for long-"

"What's an abandonment break?"

"I said too much again didn’t I? *sigh* It's the most dangerous mental injury you can suffer from... Any break is dangerous, as it's the damage of an emotional core, and you can get it with emotional trauma. An abandonment break is when your love and trust cores get damaged, and the name comes from it being found mostly on people without parents... I've never known that it can appear over your eye until I've seen Lloyd's... It looked serious and like it has been there most of his life... I'm pretty sure it's from Darkley's."

The silence that follows Morro's last statement is so thick, they could cut it if they tried. Everyone is trying to understand the new information, still partially in denial.

"I've been taught how to possess, how to keep control and how to try to avoid sikols for decades, but never once did anyone mention that a 14 year old with the soul injuries of a 90 year old war veteran can exist, much less how he fights! He was weak but attacked in waves, and then it took a lot of force to keep him down... The-The only good thing that came out of this is that I completed the mission given to me and that I showed the world how weak it is. I don't think people should depend on just a person to protect them this much...There's simply no way Helena is doing this for fun, she probably feels like I took something from her and in return she's gonna mess with something she doesn't understand, and-and that will result in chaos! People who feel like they were exploited in their lives are agressive upon forced ressurrection! The problem isn't that Helena is planning to do something disrespectful and disgusting, it's because she's planning on unleashing something no one can control! That's why it's important to stop her. I doubt you'd be happy if someone woke you up at 1 am demanding you to save the world... Imagine how Lloyd will feel, waking up in his fucking rotten body!"

The silence after this is far less thick, Kai making an uneasy, seemingly forced statement.

"Then I suppose… we can work together… but only if you play fairly and by our rules."

"I never expected anything else."

#ninjago #ninjago au #fatal mistake au #teaser #ninjago morro #ninjago kai #ninjago cole #ninjago jay #ninjago zane #ninjago nya #angst #tw swearing #i'll explain helena later #but if you peeps wanna know it early just send an ask #ninjago angst

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freebooter4ever · 4 years

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my dad group texted my brother and i, highly unusual, and i think jordan was weirded out too cause his response was equally short and confused. on the list of things my little brother and i have never discussed, our dad’s relative interest or lack there of in our lives is pretty high. dad’s been messaging me since october, asking about stuff like where my next living plans are (which he has never done since i first moved out age eighteen), and i’ve only been vaguely responding to the point blank questions cause its just. so. weird. i think my grandpa’s death has shaken dad’s worldview a bit more than he’s been letting on.

he alienated my brother and i pretty much immediately after his secretive marriage to the bottle blonde rich bitch when i was 22. he kicked my brother out as soon as jordan turned 18, and when i discovered this by coming home one summer and seeing jordan wasnt in the house, i got so fucking mad that it was the first time i ever had a full out screaming match at my dad. and apparently this display of anger was when rich bitch decided she didn’t like me (probably valid, but also ironic because pretty much from birth it was known in my entire extended family that dad and i were almost identical personality wise, and both of us have tempers where we will not get mad at anything but frustration will build up and up until on the rare blue moon it boils over, and oh boy. watch out. those moments were the only times i was ever scared of my dad as a kid and i think it only happened twice in my entire life)(if she thinks im crazy when im angry, she should see my dad)

but i was crazy mad because while i was lucky enough to be put in therapy due to attempting to starve myself into non existence at age 13 (many many sessions of ‘family’ therapy with me in the center of a long couch silently trying to pretend i was invisible and my mom two feet away at one end and dad on the opposite end of the couch, and my mom doing all the talking, ranting and raving about how im starving myself to punish her. and then the therapist kicking both my parents out and trying to convince me to say a few words, and her finally getting me to realize that how my mom treated me was not normal and not something i needed to put up with if it made me sad and scared, and then the therapist realizing that i was still too sad and scared to confront it, and her and i coming up with a compromise where we would tell my mom that i was just ‘really attached’ to dad’s house and it wasnt that i was terrified of living with my mom or liked my dad better, it was that i just really liked living in one place instead of out of a suitcase and moving every week), and so had both the therapist and my dad supporting me when at fourteen i finally said enough was enough and demanded that my dad get full custody so i didnt have to spend every other week with my abusive mother anymore - while i got out of that situation, my brother didnt. i tried, he knew that it was my decision to live full time with dad and i made it clear he could do the same, but just as it was a given that i was identical to dad’s personality, my brother was identical to mom’s so i think he was more attached to her than i was. either way, he always refused and insisted on continuing to live between both of them. after i hit driving age, my dad transferred responsibility to me for shuttling my brother to and from my dad’s house to my mom’s apartment. dad’d lock himself in his room, or go to the gym, and i’d turn on an endless rotation of star wars movies for jordan and i to watch before i had to take him to his next week’s place (phantom menace was our favorite cause darth maul was just cool ok, dont judge).

anyway, the last day i ever stayed at my moms house, my brother was there. and i must have been twenty or twenty one because he would have only been around seventeen. but even at seventeen he was well over six foot five cause he got all the height in the family which was totally not fair but thats besides the point. so while i was there my mom flew into one of her alcohol induced rages, and took it all out on my brother. i had intellectually figured that all the anger my mom used to take out on me had then transferred to my brother once i stopped living there every other week, but up until that point i hadn’t actually seen it. she started shoving him, and punching him, and not enough so it would hurt much, because as i said he was well over six feet and she was barely five six, so he could pretty well block any thing she dished out. but he was cornered, and he looked scared. and i was hiding useless on the stairwell, crying, and begging mom to stop. and it only stopped cause jordan managed to slip out the front door and once he escaped mom went back into the kitchen, still yelling and angry. and i took the chance to grab my school bag and leave in solidarity. and my brother and i stood there awkwardly on the porch, me still crying, and him smoking and trying to look cool and not like he just got chased out of the apartment by a woman half his size. and i promised him we wouldnt go back until she calmed down, and that she was being unreasonable and he didnt deserve any of it, and id figure out somewhere to go. and we started walking down the sidewalk, but not together because we were never that close. he wandered off somewhere to smoke. and that’s as far as i remember.

this day came up in conversation with my grandma in the months after grandpa’s death, during one of our many three am can’t sleep conversations in grandma’s kitchen (grandma would wake up, i’d hear her get out of bed and wake up too. she’d make herself tea and eat some graham crackers and we’d sit together at the table feeling the third empty chair like an ache). grandma brought it up, because apparently, even though i cant remember this at all, i had my no/kia brick phone in my school bag (a minor miracle because i hated carrying around cell phones for the longest time), and i actually called grandma. and grandpa and her came to pick me up, and they found me sitting on a wall a block away from my mom’s apartment, and then we drove around till we found jordan, and then we all went back to my grandparent’s house. after bringing this up, grandma then, completely unprompted, told me something that child me thought about regularly - she said that even though her mom died when she was 8, leaving her to help raise her two younger siblings, grandma thought in some ways it was easier than what my brother and i went through with the divorce and my mom leaving. i used to regularly - not wish my mom dead, exactly - but wish i could pretend she was dead, rather than her just not being there anymore. especially since, when i was suddenly thrown into being her sole emotional and physical punching bag now that dad wasn’t filling the role anymore, a lot of the times being around her post divorce was not a good thing. (I cut off all contact with my mom finally at age 25 and haven’t looked back)

so yeah, i was fucking pissed that i had worked so hard to try to mitigate the damage i caused by leaving jordan alone with my mom for pretty much the entirety of my high school years...only to have my dad kick him out barely a few years after i left for college and thus putting my brother at my mom’s mercy. ostensibly my dad kicked my brother out because of his drug addictions, but my brother was the most mild mannered addict i’ve ever known. the worst thing he ever did was steal a couple hundred dollars from me, but he never got violent, he never got angry. other people got angry at him. my aunt once tried to fight him in a hospital elevator because he sold my cousin heroin or meth or some shit and my cousin ended up impaling a knife in his chest in front of my grandma, which is a whole nother story. but jordan was only nineteen when that happened. my cousin? thirty six. and a long time violent and angry drug addict with a record (he threw a book at his professor’s head and got kicked out of grad school while on cocaine once, which is how he ended up back in washington state and needing a new drug dealer - hence my brother suddenly getting involved) (same cousin later flew into a drug fueled rage in his forties and almost beat his girlfriend to death) (my brother was long since clean by then and had nothing to do with our cousin getting drugs at that point)

all this to say my dad’s rich bitch new wife didn’t think a drug addict and mentally ill artist fit into her picture perfect family, so dad started making it clear we were not welcome at family functions unless we complied with very strict rules. ironically, jordan was let back into the fold first partially because i can hold a grudge for a very long time and i was very very terrified of my mom and dad was the sane stable one and i had trusted him to take care of everything even without me there and dad had failed pretty spectacularly at that. im still bitter at my dad for his secret marriage and subsequent moving into her million dollar mansion and throwing my brother out. but also partially because jordan started following all of dad’s rules, got himself cleaned up (he moved in with his girlfriend, and i think being out of mom’s house had a lot to do with getting over his addictions), started studying computer science, found a really good software engineering job, suddenly dad approved of him. i also partially antagonized rich bitch wife by doing silly things like wearing black leather pants and the most provocative clothes i owned whenever i went over to their house. rich bitch was a very simple narrow minded person with a lot of prejudices. i imagine i was not seen as a good influence on her two younger daughters. and eventually they stopped seeing me altogether. even when i was living in washington for all of 2017 - the only time i ever saw dad was when he’d come visit my grandparents alone. the day before i took grandma on the train to move to ohio, we were supposed to all have dinner together at our family’s favorite place to eat out - crossroads mall - and the rich bitch refused to show up. that’s how petty she is. she also is so dumb she’s under the delusion that kids get into drugs if they don’t have dogs (????) so that’s why she forced my dad to get a dog for her spoiled brat youngest when the girl went into high school. my dad dislikes animals, so i will say one of the highlights of this marriage is seeing my dad become a dog person. the rich bitch and her daughters mostly ignore the dog, but my dad is so attached to max that he even lets the little puppy sit in his lap while driving. anyway, anyone who thinks dogs are the sole answer to preventing drug addictions can go to hell.

yeah, blah blah blah, to sum up its WEIRD for my dad to suddenly be texting my brother and i unprompted, and asking me about my life and my plans. i dont really know how to deal. i miss him. he was always the closest person in my life to the point where even when i moved away for college, i still assumed after i graduated i’d just move back in with dad so it was only four years being gone, cause why would i ever want to live anywhere else?. i kept thinking if i could hit some level of success that he would approve of, that maybe eventually i could become somebody his rich bitch wife would associate with. but that never happened, obviously.

#journal shit #christmas is family time right????

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girlmeetsliv3 · 5 years

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Purgatorio II

Warning: The following story contains mentions of suicide, depression, anxiety, manipulation, abuse, and vivid descriptions of abusive acts. The behavior and mindset of the characters in this series will be incredibly yandere and toxic. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

A psychologist had come to visit him approximately an hour after Dr.Kim had left, an hour after the conversation had died down and the two individuals in the room were embraced by silence. There had been nothing to really speak once their thoughts on the situation had been expressed and Yoongi was never a fan of small talk. Neither were you it seemed, for that he was thankful. When the older man with round glasses and too many wrinkles in his forehead entered, Yoongi had to mentally prepare himself for the questions he was about to endure. He quite honestly feared the man because of the power he wielded. If he deemed Yoongi a danger to society he would ensure he never left the plain white walls that surrounded him, incarcerating in a literal prison and not just the metaphorical one he was used to. He was on the brink of a full-on panic attack the closer the man got to the bed and it made him upset of how weak he truly was. Anxiety manifested into a rage, all he wanted to do was pound the man’s head into the wall and inform him that he was perfectly sane. All the racing thoughts and emotions were halted the moment he felt the warmth of your hands enveloping him.

He had failed to notice you standing up and was curious as to what exactly you were doing. He barely paid attention to the conversation occurring between the psychologist and you, solely focusing on your face and all the expressions you were able to exhibit in a manner of seconds. How he envied you. He failed to notice a question that had been directed at him until he felt a slight squeeze coming from you. “Mr.Min? Is this true?” The psychologist looked at him with intrigue and he recognized that tone of voice, it was one used often by his teachers when they wanted to catch him in a lie. Whatever you had said, he trusted you a lot more than he should truthfully. “Of course.” Yoongi had learned at a quite young age the shorter and less detailed a lie, the sweeter it was. The doctor simply nodded as his eyes focused on Yoongi’s and yours interlocked hands before stating he would sign the discharge papers and bring along documentation for you to sign. It wasn’t until the door closed behind the man that you let go of Yoongi’s hand a breathed a sigh of relief. For some reason he found himself missing the warmth.

“What did you tell him?” He asked you with curiosity. You turned to look at him with confusion evident on your face, “Weren’t you paying attention?” Yoongi simply shook his head which only served to leave you reeling for answers. You had assumed that since he had cooperated in your lie to the psychologist he must have been paying attention. [y/n] felt her ears begin to heat up with embarrassment. You hadn’t minded improvising and doing whatever it took to help the miserable man in front you, but his desire to know your reasons put you in a tight spot. Min Yoongi was an individual that seemed to hate pity and believed the worst of the world around him, you had once met someone of a similar mindset. If you were open and honest about your intentions would you help him or just provide more of a reason for him to wallow in his own self-pity. Honesty is the best policy…just not right now.

“I told him that we had a fight whilst you were drunk, and you probably tried to light your cigarette and ended up causing the fire.”

“So, you made me sound like an alcoholic… Wait, a fight?” His eyebrow quirked.

“You’re more likely to get discharged if they think what occurred was out of a rash decision, instead of a premeditated one.”

“You still haven’t answered my question. We had a fight?”

“I told him I was your girlfriend. They couldn’t get a hold of your parents while you were here and if you have no one to account for you, they won’t discharge you.”

“My parents are dead, at least to me…”

“Sorry.”

“You seem to know a lot about hospitals.” It was the question you expected, but you still couldn’t help the words dying on your tongue. In fear of what would come out if you opened your mouth, you merely nodded and hummed in agreeance. Your evasiveness to all his questions wasn’t helping diminish his growing interest in you – which if he was honest with himself wasn’t all that healthy. Yoongi desired to personally know all of you. Whatever that entailed. You were an enigma and, in a world, so black and white, he desired to know and understand why you were grey. A thought popped into his head – a game of sorts. How would you react? What would you say?

Another nurse had come inside the room with stacks of paperwork. Bringing along a pen and informing Yoongi of his medication, treatment, and where to sign in order to be allowed to once again enter hell. His signature was thick, and the pen felt heavy in his hand, it was almost as if he was signing a deal with the devil; promising to endure a life of pure and utter agony until the end. Yoongi may have been desperate, but one failed attempt was enough for him. He didn’t desire to build a reputation for himself or never be allowed to leave the ugly eggshell colored walls which surrounded him. Returning to his everyday life was something he anticipated but hoped to delay. Imagine his utter surprise when the nurse turned to you and asked you to sign the document as well, handing you a copy to keep and repeating all the instructions once again.

“What’s going on?” Yoongi asked his eyes darting between [y/n] and the nurse. “Mrs.[y/l/n] has agreed to be your guardian until you’re deemed stable enough to care for yourself Mr.Min.” He was usually better at controlling his emotions, but the nurse must have seen the quick flash of uncertainty in his eyes as she suddenly turned to you and asked poignantly. “You are his girlfriend, are you not?” As you opened your mouth to respond, attempting to come up with something quick before this whole thing fell apart, you were interrupted by the Yoongi himself. “Oh right, that’s what the doctor said. Sorry baby I forgot.” He was just going along with the plan, that’s what you told yourself as you felt your cheeks heat up. All part of the plan. “Will, that be all?” You asked the nurse, desperate for her to leave. She asked if the two of you had a way of getting home that was wheelchair friendly and when you replied you didn’t she promised to order a cab.

After she left, the room was once again silent. Here we go. You prepped yourself for more questions, waiting for the next attack. It never came. Yoongi merely sat in silence and stared off into space, all you could do was stare at him. You had time to memorize every one of his features the entire month you had been by his side, but now they looked different. Truthfully he was an entirely different person to what you imagined he’d be like: he had looked so calm and peaceful in his sleep. Now there was a roughness present in everything he did. Someone who had been damaged far too many times and no longer trusted anyone – not even himself. It saddened you and caused another face to flash before you. Bright eyes, light hair, a peaceful face roughened by the world as well. Tears welled in your eyes and you forced the image to the very back of your mind. I won’t allow that to happen, not again.

“I have to get dressed.” It lacked any sort of enthusiasm or emotion. His voice and expression were robotic as he spoke, it wasn’t until your eyes met that a hint of something appeared in his cold eyes. [y/n] looked around trying to come up with anything that would serve as an article of clothing. Honestly, you had given some thought to getting him something to wear when he woke up but knew that was overstepping the boundaries just a little too much. “I think there is a gift shop downstairs. I can see if they have clothes.” Yoongi winced at the thought of having to wear an overly cringey shirt and ill-fitting slacks, but he relented. [Y/n] reached into her purse to grab her wallet, “What size are you?

“Extra-large.”

“What?!” You sputtered.

“The bandages need to breathe right? Get me an extra-large.”

“Oh.”

You could not have possibly dashed out of the room faster. Yoongi couldn’t help but burst into laughter at your reaction. Cute. There wasn’t much to do after you left, so he found himself counting the seconds until you returned. Once he reached twelve hundred, he became irritated. Why had you taken so long? How hard was it to find a stupid shirt and pants? Had you forgotten about him? Had you grown tired of him already? Did you decide he was useless and pathetic and abandon him? Twelve hundred and one. Twelve hundred and two. Where the fuck are you?! His question was answered when you burst through the door, arms filled with two sets of plastic bags with the sign thank you printed on them repeatedly. “What took you so long?!” He tried to hide the animosity in his voice, but you stopped in your tracks when you heard it.

“It took a while to find pants and I had to pick up your prescriptions.” [Y/n] walked towards the hospital bed and gently placed the bags beside Yoongi being careful not to disturb him. You reached into one of the bags and pulled out a long-sleeved black shirt, as well as some black slacks. It was as if you knew him. Something inside of him swelled at that. He patiently watched as you stared at the clothes neatly folded next to him and pressed your lips together as if in deep thought. Your head tilted to the side and you lightly nodded to yourself, almost as if agreeing with whatever decision you had made. The fact that you were oblivious to all these mannerisms is what made it that much more interesting to him. “I’ll go get a nurse to help you get dressed.” You pointed behind you.

No. “No. I can get dressed by myself.” He didn’t want you to go away again, even if just for a second. He began to pull at the strings at the side of his hospital gown, but [y/n] placed a hand on his to stop him. “Maybe we should get your pants on first?” The tone did not go unnoticed and Yoongi was once again reminded that under the gown he was stark naked. Without waiting for a response, you began to pull off the bed sheets and placed the pants near his feet opening them wide enough to get them through. It was like a mother dressing her sleepy child in the morning, you even asked him to lift his hips slightly so as to drag the pants up. Of course, you did this as your eyes stared at the ceiling and your lips were pressed tightly together in embarrassment. Had his mother ever done this for him? Did she exhibit the care you did? Is this how you would dress your children in the future? All thoughts were interrupted when you cleared your throat. The pants were now at his thighs and [y/n] had decided that was enough.

Yoongi struggled a bit, but he managed to pull the pants all the way up as [y/n] faced the wall trying not to see anything. Once they were properly on, he undid the laces of the gown and slipped on the shirt with ease. “Oh um, the hospital in providing us with a wheelchair until we get to your place, but then they have to take it back. So, they said it’s probably best to buy one.” The little bit of joy he felt faded again, “Alright. I’ll have one delivered to my place once I get home.” [Y/n] nodded and went to pack up her belongings, tying her hair into a loose ponytail to get it out of her face. Placing the bag on your shoulder you turned around and smiled meekly, “Ready to go home?”

Home. Home was where his demons waited anxiously for his returns. Home is where his passion and failure both lived. Home is where he spent all of his time wallowing in misery. Home is where he hoped to fall asleep and never wake up. Home was where you lived, right next to him. Home was where you were forced to interact since you promised to care for him. Home was where you couldn’t ignore him or abandon him like everyone else had or you’d be held accountable for his actions. Home was you. You were home.

“I can’t wait.”

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jswdmb1 · 4 years

Text

In A Daydream

“The sky is calling,

Calling out my name.

Telling me just to stay,

Stay and don't go away.”

- Freddy Jones Band

I have never been a creative person. Even though I love music, I can’t sing or dance and have never shown any natural talent at the musical instruments I have tried. I have no ability to paint, draw or create art of any kind and a trip to the Art Institute is wasted on me as the only difference between Monet and Manet to me is one letter. I have very little appreciation for literature and don’t read many books unless they are non-fiction. If it doesn’t involve a fact or figures, it is unlikely I will be much help to you, and I have been okay with that. We are often told that our brains work either one way or another and I was satisfied that I had at least a half of one functioning.

But a few years ago, I started to rethink that whole notion that creativity was only for those that didn’t succumb to the life of a left-brained numbers geek. There are plenty of artists and entertainers with a sharp business sense (well, at least a few), so why can’t it turn the other way as well? And why does creativity have to be limited to the traditional arts? Can’t it be also used in unconventional ways that harness the analytical ability of a buttoned-down mind? Isn’t that the definition of creativity in it of itself?

I decided to put this to the test by even challenging the traditional constraints of what is considered creative, which is usually limited to artists or actors, singers and dancers, novelists and the sort. But it is an oxymoron to think that way about creativity, and I began to search for other ways to find an outlet. I started with writing and hosting trivia nights for charity. They are crude productions, but all of the content is my own and those in attendance generally seem to have a good time (including me). That modest success gave me some thought that maybe there could be other outlets for me.

I started doing some writing and posting to social media but it didn’t seem right. I had toyed with starting a blog but I was intimidated. That was something for people much more creative than me. But, I thought what will it cost me and I stopped worrying about doing it for any other reason than to create an outlet for what I thought might be brewing inside. Like my trivia nights, the initial efforts were spotty but I sensed maybe there was something I could build on there. I kept going throughout that summer and then things came to a halt, which ended up being the best thing that ever happened to me.

That’s when I ended up taking a break from not just writing, but from life, to get myself back on track. I have referenced this event in the past, but not shared a lot of details about it. It was about eight months after I quit my job to start my own business and about four months after my dad died after a four-year battle with cancer. I wasn’t exactly on stable mental ground going into this period, having spent literally decades on various medications and in and out of therapy, so it wouldn’t take much more to push me over the edge. It was at this point that my wife’s mother’s health took a sharp turn for the worse and the pressure built from there.

It would be more stylish to say that my breakdown occurred in a dramatic event like you see on TV, but it was quite unexciting. As the summer wore on, I withdrew from my business, upped my already prodigious use of booze and meds to self-medicate, and spent more-and-more time doing a whole lot of nothing. When I stopped going through even the motions of participating in daily life, those close to me finally stepped in and gave my psychiatrist a call. Turns out he was on vacation (no joke) but his colleague suggested a trip to the outpatient psychiatric center of Hinsdale Hospital for an assessment. Within 24 hours of that assessment I found myself in a full-time out-patient program to treat my main problems of severe depression and general anxiety disorder.

I don’t deviate into this story for any other reason than it is directly responsible for what got me back into writing. One of our big things there was journaling. More specifically, writing honestly about ourselves and then sharing them to the group. I wrote some things in those sessions that shocked me, but that shock didn’t really hit home until I read them aloud to people I just met. I was even more shocked to find out that the world didn’t end because I was finally honest about who I was and my feelings about that. It was even more surprising to find a lot of people felt the same way and that we could maybe help each other if we talked a bit more about it.

Three days after I was released (I asked for a certificate that said “SANE” but no dice), my mother-in-law died. I had been writing again on this blog, but I wrote a post quitting it after deciding I couldn’t spend time so frivolously when so much bad was going on around me (the post, “Here’s Where The Story Ends” is still on here if you want to look it up). But fortunately (for me at least, can’t speak for the rest of you who have to read this stuff), my break was short-lived. I got back into it and slowly started to develop an embrace of the notion that I might, at times, have something useful to say.

That finally brings us to today and the point of this particular post. Tumblr keeps track of the number of posts you have in your profile and after I hit send on the last one, I saw that I had hit post #99. While I generally think milestone anniversary numbers are a bit silly, it did give me a bit of pause to think about what I would write next for #100. It made me take a quick look back over the past three years about what I have documented. Most of it is pretty amateurish, and nothing is spectacular, but there is an occasional good thought that seems to pop out every once in a while. That’s not really important, though. What matters to me is that I managed to create 100 of anything. Good, bad, or indifferent, this production suggests that some creativity exists within me. That is not something I was sure about before post #1 came along.

What does this all mean? I don’t know. Sure, it’s tooting my horn a bit, but really what is wrong with that? I mean, what is the point of creating anything that you don’t share? And, just because you share something, it doesn’t mean that everyone has to like it. I get that a lot of what I say is a bit off the wall and maybe too esoteric for general consumption, but at least it’s genuine. And every time I finish one of these, I can say in no uncertain terms that I have been honest with myself and I’m comfortable with who I am no matter how imperfect that may be (insert joke here).

And that is how I am going to celebrate this 100th post. By acknowledging that it may be poorly written and lacking a coherent theme, but understanding it is who I am and how I feel at this moment and I have documented that truthfully and without spin. And I’ll take credit for that as my true gift of creativity and I’m happy to share it with you. And I’m grateful that I have been able to do it a hundred times and I’ll be just as grateful for the next one and any more I can do after that. And I’ll take none of it for granted because life is too short to take anything for granted. And I’ll reread this at some point, and realize that I have used far too many cliches in sentences that start with “And”. And that’s okay, because that’s who I am.

Thanks for reading whether this is your first time, 100th time, or maybe your last time. I hope whatever creativity exists in me has been properly channeled into this vessel and I hope it adds something to your day time you read it. And if it doesn’t, that’s okay too because that is better than if I hadn’t tried. 100 times to be exact.

Peace, Jim

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