#no but like is it GRIEF that's motivating her or GUILT girl spinning in my head im chewing

[yashley]

“After Eddie went missing, I didn’t want anyone to have to suffer through that anymore. I wanted to find answers.”

#critical role #candela obscura #arlo black #ygifs #help my weird girly got doomed by the narrative and i don't want to watch her die #no but watching her is like reading a book so naturally I need to be utterly obnoxious about her #in ep1 when she Thought of eddie and Knew to offer blood to a rune. like she just Left that detail out when she spoke of him INSIGHT CHEC #saying oldfaire relics interested Eddie and yet She also knows of the lure of it??? INSIGHT CHEC #asking for something to combat shadow beasts and then DOESN'T want it on her person?? INSIGHT CH #no but like is it GRIEF that's motivating her or GUILT girl spinning in my head im chewing #them being like we'll find eddie! and she's like maybe :). GIRL #i'm saying only one more episode with arlo isn't acceptable I need at least 10 what

[handlewithkara]

Trying to Un-Hate Season 3 Part 12894293nx9qn8913q

Let’s talk about the Kara centric storylines in season 3. 

Yes, Kara had a storyline in season 3. In fact, she had multiple storylines.

1.) Dealing with how to handle Mon-El is still a meaningful storyline for Kara

I have always disagreed that a storyline about a romantic relationship somehow doesn't "count" as character development. And I think Supergirl season 3 is a perfect example of this. I'm not going to claim that it was a great or exciting storyline but it was still undoubtedly a story about Kara.

This storyline told us a lot about Kara the person. How she deals with grief, with guilt, with disappointment, with frustration. How she reacts. How she gets over things. What she values.

The writers used this storyline to delve deep into Kara's background and characterization, it was used to tell us about Kara's anxiety attacks and how she felt stuck alone in a pod as a child, it was used to trigger a trip to Alex and Kara's childhood and to talk about Kara's early days on earth in the "coma" episode.

2.) Identity

If I had to sum up Kara's plot in regards to identity in season 3, I would say it's about Kara still feeling her way around and being unsure about it. I think it is best illustrated with some quotes from the season.

Kara: Kara Danvers sucks right now!  [...]  I don't like that girl, Alex.

Kara:  I am not a human.I tried to be.But I'm not. Kara Danvers was a mistake.

Kara:  the second she saw my vulnerability, she became disillusioned. I let my mask down for one second,and look what happens.

Mon-El: All you can do is be true to yourself.

Kara: Which self? 

Kara:  I just wish my day-to-day life didn't have to have a disguise.

Kara:  Out here with just you, I don't have to pretend. I can just be me.    

Mon-El:  You get to just be you here, Supergirl.

Kara: Not Supergirl. Kara Zor-El.

Kara: It just feels amazing to be normal.

Kara:  I've lost track of what I stand for.

Kara: Before we went to Argo, I just had this thought that I could be Kara Zor-El, ordinary citizen.

Kara:  Balancing Kara and being a hero, that's...That's who I am.

Kara of course starts out burying herself in her Supergirl role and wanting to suppress her Kara Danvers side. Alex tries to counterbalance this, most noticably by bringing Kara back to the Danvers' chlldhood home. In this theme is also Kara running into problems with her secret identity and this being contrasted against James desire to reveal his identity as Guardian. Next follows Kara finding out that Argo and a group of Kryptonians survived and wanting to spend some time there before the villains revealing themselves very quickly pushes her back into the fight. 

I can see why one could read the end of the season as Kara having made a definitive decision on this question, but I think considering this theme continues on into season 4, I think it's just a general ongoing story that season 3 happened to add to, just like 1 and 2 also did.

3.) Kara's Kryptonian legacy

This story thread starts subtly, dropping the first hints about Kryptonian religion in The Faithful.

Over the season it turns out that the season big bad and their motivation ties deeply into Kryptonian theology and history. We find out quite a bit about Kryptonian religious/metaphysical concepts (even if most of that is pretty lame fantasy stuff). And it even spins into a halfway interesting story about Kara's unease with using potentially dangerous Kryptonian substances (Kryptonite and the Harun-El) to fight the villain.

To me the cornerstones of this story are the Coville cult worshipping Kara as a god, Kara taking the trip back to Fort Rozz and meeting the Kryptonian witch, everything to do with spirit world, Kara reacting badly to presence of Kryptonite and them going back and forth on whether it should be used in the battle against Reign, the motivation of the masterplan villains particularly including accusing the mainline Kryptonians of suppressing them and their religion, Kara pleading with the Kryptonian council for the Harun-El, Alura taking most of the Harun-El with her at the end of the season and this spinning into the next season. 

4.) To kill or not to kill

This season sets up a very deliberate scenario. The main antagonist Reign has a side to her that is pure, that is innocent. And not just in the abstract sense. Sam Arias is a character who both we the audience and the main characters know and get a lot of exposure to.

Just as we meet the nice side of the Reign, the show also puts in some effort to sell is the danger of Reign, whether it is through Kara losing a drag out battle to her or through the people coming in from the future to tell us of the long lasting negative effects Reign and her companions will have, upping the stakes, both personally (the life of Sam, the happiness of Ruby) and globally (not just the world, the future, not just earth, but also Argo or at least Argo's soul and culture is at stake). It should be noted how the show even weaves in the death of a minor, named, "goodguy" DEO character.

This whole concept of the duality of Reign and Sam gets really delved in in the later half of the season, where the desire to stop Reign conflicts with the problem of Sam and how to handle her.

At first it's not just the question of killing or not killing, it's about killing an innocent as collateral damage to stop a great evil.  

Kara's preference towards not killing is probably tested heaviest in this season. This issue on whether or not to kill the worldkillers gets debated over and over again this season by a variety of characters and it is noteworthy for the high number of "good guy" characters who come down on the side of killing for the greater good (most notably Lena, James, Imra and Alura).

And we even see Kara herself falling prey to that mindset and then reversing time to undo it, before the season ends on the conclusion that violence is not the answer.  

~~~~~~~~

I'm not claiming that these were all great stories or that all of them were fleshed out enough for everybody's taste. Still, to me those are the storylines that reached some amount of depth and even though the quality might not be what it was in season 1 (what is ...), the impression I walk away with is still of a season that felt like it had quite a bit to say about Kara/Supergirl as a character.

#supergirl #kara zor-el #kara danvers #karamel

[myaekingheart]

130. A Proposition

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3 index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

               Rei smoothed her bangs back as she took a long swig of liquid antacid. The chalky liquid crawled down her throat, thick and suffocating. She coughed into the crook of her elbow, steadied her breath. Apparently her mother’s cooking had done far more damage than she had expected. She only hoped she would be well enough for work—she could not afford to fuck up. She was already on thin ice.

               The past week’s domestic assignments went well enough. No one died—not that they had any opportunity to in the first place. But Rei could tell that her leadership skills were faltering. She stumbled over her words and took too long deliberating on massive decisions. Her aim was off and her sense of awareness had grown blunt and her head was spinning with a million other things, but that meant nothing when her teammates lives were at stake. She needed to shake the atrophy from her body, regroup and rewire and reshape. Their upcoming stakeout mission loomed over her head. She had three days. She needed to focus.

               But how could she possibly concentrate when she was so overwhelmed with guilt? All she could think about was her parents, of the way they reacted and the way that she, in turn, had retaliated. It had only been two days.

               Rei griped the edge of the bathroom counter and sucked in a sharp breath, swallowing back another wave of nausea. The stress was not helping her food poisoning. Her eyes skated up to her reflection, however, and for a moment she reconsidered. A gentle index finger traced along her collarbone, lifted her shirt to survey her ribs.

               A feeble knock at the door snapped her from her daze. She quickly tugged her shirt back down and threw the bottle of antacid into the drawer before skidding out of the bathroom. She was almost embarrassed at the thought of someone finding her like this, pathetic and narcissistic and sick.

               Toshio leapt to his feet, barking madly at the front door. As Rei vaulted into the living room, her embarrassment quickly morphed into anxious skepticism. Kakashi would not be home for another hour and even if he had returned early, he had a key. He would’ve let himself in on his own. Sekkachi never knocked, and Guy’s were always far more upbeat and melodic. Besides, Rei wasn’t expecting any company to begin with.

               Another hesitant knock and Rei froze right at the border between the kitchen tile and living room carpet. Her eyes darted to the kunai on the kitchen table, considered, before snatching it up and holding it firm. It was likely nothing—a mailman delivering a package, a neighbor short on sugar—but she could never be too sure. Perhaps the ANBU had made her paranoid.

               Standing on tiptoes, Rei squinted through the peephole to identify her guest. The glass was warped and dirty, leaving the image initially unclear, but all too soon Rei recognized the face staring back at her. She tightened her grip on her kunai and immediately felt sick. Standing awkwardly at her front door, glass dish of leftovers in hand, was Rei’s mother.

               For a moment, Rei considered pretending that no one was home. She could flick all the lights off, maybe leap off the balcony and bolt across rooftops until she found someplace safe. If only Toshio would just shut up.

               The dog adopted a protective stance, his heavy barks echoing through the small apartment. Acting as if the meek woman behind the door was a threat. For a moment, Rei questioned the validity of his response, and if this was all actually a sick transformation jutsu set to trick her. But again, perhaps the ANBU had made her paranoid. She didn’t sense any malicious chakra. Only her mother.

               When it became clear to Rei that she had no other option, she set the kunai down and steadied her breath. She needed a moment to mentally prepare for whatever conversation was about to occur. Whatever her mother wanted, it couldn’t be good. Despite the resistance in her body, Rei turned the knob and opened the door.

               “Hey, mom. Uh…what’s up?” Rei greeted, forcing a smile. Forcing herself to pretend like everything was okay, like the catastrophe of their family dinner was nonexistent. Hazy as a fever dream. Imaginary. Insignificant. Hana blinked despondently, her face tense as she, too, faked a grin.

               Lifting the dish, she replied, “I brought leftovers.” Rei’s stomach churned. She could feel her cheeks tinge green at the mere mention. Not even the foil seemed to fully reign in the stench. If only she had kept the antacid handy. Hana peered around her daughter then, trying to peek into her apartment, before asking awkwardly, “W-well…can I come in?” Knowing that she had no other option, Rei stepped aside and granted her mother entry.

               Hana hardly ever visited, making her daughter’s apartment feel strangely foreign to her. And with the foreignness came a tinge of sadness. What mother was not familiar with her own daughter’s home? It just didn’t feel right. She silently scrutizined the half-read books lying here and there, the used tissues scattered across the end table, the thin layer dust collecting on shelves. A part of her felt compelled to remark on it all—was this really how her daughter lived?—but she restrained herself. Now was not the time to be particular.

               Turning to Rei, Hana lifted the dish in her hands and asked, “Where should I put the--?” Rei interrupted with a shake of her head, taking the dish and presently shoving it into her messy fridge. The sooner it was out of Rei’s sight, the better. “I figured I ought to bring you the rest of the subuta” Hana continued. She reached down cautiously to let Toshio sniff her hand. He regarded her with skepticism. “I know it’s your favorite and you didn’t really eat much the other night.”

               “I wasn’t very hungry” Rei replied. She lingered in front of the fridge for a moment longer before finally turning back to face her mother. There was an anxious, shy look about the woman’s face, about the way she wrung her hands together, as if self-conscious about taking up space. Toshio eyed her curiously in an attempt to discern her intent. “So, uh…is this all you came here for?” Rei asked.

               “N-No, not exactly…” Hana replied. Her voice was choked and her face contorted for a moment, restrictively. Rei’s heart leapt into her throat—she could not stand to see her mother cry. All of Rei’s anger and frustration would immediately be erased. Quite frankly, she wanted to stay angry. She felt like she at least deserved that much. “I just—I wanted to talk about the other night” Hana continued.

               “Oh god, fuck, mom, really, let’s not—” Rei protested, but Hana’s hysterics had already been set in motion. There was no stopping them now. A sob broke past her lips as she wrapped her arms tightly around her waist, pathetic and needy like a small child.

               “I just…I’ve been so upset about everything that’s happened!” Hana whined. She sank into the nearest chair and buried her face in her hands. “I haven’t been able to eat, I haven’t been able to sleep. It’s just too much!”

               Rei felt something crack within her chest. Her hands began to shake at her sides—she knew she should’ve jumped out of the window. “Mom, it’s really not that—” she started, but was quickly interrupted yet again by her mother.

               “I just know I won’t be able to rest until…until we make things right between us!” Hana wailed. She finally lifted her gaze, her mossy eyes overflowing with tears. Her bottom lip quivered and her cheeks had already grown rosy with emotional exertion. “I’m so sorry, Rei. Please…just try to understand! I don’t want to lose you, I don’t want to lose my precious girl…”

               That was when Rei knew things were really bad. Her mother never referred to her as her “precious girl” unless she was truly manic with grief. Rei closed her eyes, let her shoulders drop. “Mom, you’re not going to lose me” she sighed. No matter what, deep down Rei knew that she could never abandon her mother, whether in death or in disownment. Not really. Try as she might, Rei always felt too guilty in the end. Her mother was needy, pathetic, weak.

               “I just wish you’d give up on this ninja nonsense once and for all” Hana said, a certain undercurrent of determination in her voice. She pursed her lips and narrowed her gaze toward nowhere in particular, almost as if she was talking to herself. Reasoning with herself. Bargaining.

               Rei recoiled, finally understanding her mother’s position. This was never about driving her away. All Hana cared about was whether or not Rei was taking physical risks. It was the danger of her career that still haunted her. As if Rei was incapable and ill-prepared. As if she were a child. Rei bit the inside of her cheek, quelling anger and nausea all the same.

               If only Rei could understand just how much of a toll all of this took on her mother. Hana didn’t think she was being unreasonable—not in the slightest. Thelonger this conflict stewed between them, the more insane she felt herself become. She refused to watch her daughter fling herself into danger. But the guilt of so many years of opposition did not come without consequence. Hana wasn’t sure which fate would hurt more: Rei losing her life in the line of duty, or Rei cutting all ties with her family once and for all. Either way, there was a sense of death.

               Swatting at the air, Hana sniffled and added, “But that’s not important right now.” She turned to her daughter, taking her hands in hers and squeezing them tight. “I don’t want us to fall apart. Let me make it up to you. Please.”

               Rei leaned back, creating space between the two of them. Her brow cocked in suspicion. Her mother could very well be offering retribution out of the kindness of her heart, but she could also be functioning exclusively on ulterior motive. Rei didn’t consider her mother a vengeful or manipulative person but she knew better than to give anyone the full benefit of the doubt. “What do you mean…?” she asked slowly, cautiously.

               “I want to take you out this weekend” Hana explained and her woe quickly transformed into determined excitement. “Just you and me. I want to take you shopping for a wedding dress.”

               Rei spluttered softly, taken aback. This was certainly low on the list of things she had expected. The memory of her and Kakashi’s failed civil ceremony flashed in the back of her mind along with the overarching guilt Rei had felt toward not including her family. While this would certainly fulfill what she had feared she was denouncing, she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about the idea. As much as she hated to admit this, Rei was not particularly fond of spending time with her mother. She pursed her lips, considering the offer. “I mean…I haven’t really thought about wedding dresses yet” she confessed.

               “That’s alright!” Hana assured. “I’m sure we’ll find something while we’re there, it’s no issue! No issue at all!” Her desperation was almost pathetic. Rei had to admit, though, this would very clearly help alleviate some of her wedding stress. And besides, like Arai had mentioned so many weeks before, it was important ot find a dress early enough to allot time for alterations. Rei smoothed her shirt out over her stomach, considering how much thinner she might be in a year.

               “Alright” Rei finally said. “We can go wedding dress shopping but only on one condition.” Hana nodded enthusiastically, as if already willing to accept whatever Rei would counter with. “Sekkachi comes with us” Rei said. It only made sense. She was Rei’s maid of honor, she was supposed to be there. And besides, she would certainly help alleviate the stress of Hana’s doting presence.

               “Of course!” Hana exclaimed in automatic agreement. A wide, this time genuine, grin spread across her lips as she squeezed her daughter’s hands in hers. “Oh, this is going to be wonderful! I’ll call the bridal shop as soon as I get home and make us an appointment. How does this Tuesday afternoon at one sound? I hope they’ll have that time available. I’m sure I can figure something else if they don’t, but honestly, I don’t see why they wouldn’t. Either way, I’ll go call them up and keep you updated!”

               Rei nodded halfheartedly as she guided her mother to the front door. She only needed to keep this façade up until she was gone, and then she’d be allowed all the time in the world to stew in her own, newly heightened undoing.

               Once Hana had left, Rei leaned back against the door and huffed her bangs despondently out of her face. Her stomach twisted at the thought of what she had just gotten herself into. Maybe she had made a mistake. Maybe she ought to chase her mother down before it was too late and back out of their plans completely. After all, she could always use work as an excuse. The schedule of an ANBU captain was not always forgiving. Despite her uncertainty, though, deep down Rei knew that this was all for the best. There was no turning back now. Rei pressed a hand to her unruly stomach and tried to will away her anxiety. Everything would be fine, she was sure of it. She just needed to let it be.

#rei natsuki #kakashi x oc #the scarecrow and the bell #naruto #naruto oc #fanfiction

[takonei]

Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 3, deadly life (Part 3)

Note of the author: *breathes in* LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOO

Chapter 3: What is beyond humans’ control - Deadly life

...

Monokuma explained the rules of the class trial as usual.

Shuichi was starting to remember them by heart, which was not a good thing.

He nervously glanced at Kokichi, who was now the first person to his left. He was exactly like when they had found Keebo dead earlier.

Gaze kept to the ground, unwilling to look at anyone in the eye, and a dreadful expression of guilt on his face.

“I’m suggesting we talk about Himiko first, since she is our top priority.” Tsumugi started.

“Agreed. The sooner we solve this atrocity, the better.” Kiyo confirmed.

“Is it really useful to talk about the murder weapon?” Kaito asked. “I mean there were so many of them back in the shrine...”

“Well, from what I’ve seen from the autopsy there are a few things that could be discussed.” Rantaro replied.

“There is something I would like to ask first.” Tsumugi raised a hand, interrupting Rantaro.

“What is it?” Shuichi turned to the girl.

“How was the motive handled by all of you?” she asked.

“Ryoma, Kokichi and you were placed in the three empty rooms on the fourth floor, that the others had equipped for you to be comfortable while things calmed down.” Rantaro explained.

“Since taking care of patients in emergency situations is literally my talent, I volunteered to be the one in charge alone so the others wouldn’t risk getting infected as well.”

“Since I was trained to stay half awake and on guard, that included me resting on a chair in front of your rooms in case something went wrong.”

She nodded, but looked incredibly skeptic. “I see.”

Ryoma crossed his arms. “If you have something to say about the way we were handled, then perhaps now isn’t the time to complain.”

Tsumugi shook her head. “No. I’m talking about something else.” She fiddled with a lock of her hair. “We can all agree that all the weapons came from different labs, correct?”

Shuichi nodded. “Yes, the scissors came from Maki’s lab, we have some tools from Angie’s and Rantaro’s labs, knives from Kirumi’s lab and even darts from Kokichi’s lab.”

"Then something doesn’t quite make sense.”

“What doesn’t? The killer went to the labs to take them! We all saw how they were all messed up during the investigation!” Miu countered.

“No I mean...” the prodigy narrowed her eyes. “Rantaro was the one guarding our rooms in case something went wrong, right?” She turned to the medic.

“My question is, how did the killer even managed to get all those weapons without Rantaro noticing anything?”

Shuichi’s heart skipped a beat.

“What?” he instinctively said.

Rantaro sighed. “I wanted to stay silent until the trial so whoever did this would have less time to think of an excuse in case they thought I wouldn’t notice it but...”

“... I believe I was drugged last night.”

Kirumi raised an eyebrow. “You ‘believe’? Did you or did you not get drugged last night?”

He crossed his arms on his podium. “It means I didn’t feel someone physically injecting me something, but I’m sure as hell whatever dinner you gave me had soporifics in it.”

“Huh??” Miu’s eyes widened in confusion.

“Hold on. What happened to you last night?” Ryoma gestured to the others to let him speak.

“Miu and Shuichi gave me dinner for the ill ones and me. You two can testify to that.” he explained.

Shuichi nodded. “Well, Kirumi prepared the meals and asked us to bring them to you, so we did.”

Angie put her elbows on her podium, head in her palms. “Kirumi prepared those meals? Pretty suspicious~”

“Let Rantaro finish his testimony.” Kiyo requested.

“Thank you.” Rantaro nodded. “You two gave me three of those meals to give to the sick ones and Shuichi put one of them in my lab for me to grab after I make sure they eat properly.”

Shuichi now realized how suspicious he looked. Was Rantaro doubting him? He wouldn’t even be mad if that was the case, considering how many times he doubted the medic.

“I... I promise I didn’t do anything-”

“Let him finish his testimony.” Ryoma glared at him.

After a short silence, Rantaro continued. “Once the three finished, I went back to my lab to eat, and so I did. After that I took time to wash the dishes and disinfect them.”

He clenched his fists resting on the podium. “But by the time I was done, I was starting to feel tired and I believe I collapsed in the stairs between the third and the fourth floor.”

Tsumugi slightly tilted her head. “Is there anything that could prove your testimony? You could be babbling lies for all we know. Even though you made your intentions very clear last trial, understand that I will only believe you if you show some evidence of the incident.”

“Actually I can!” Miu put her hands on the podium.

Shuichi understood what she meant.

“That’s right... Didn’t you say you found Rantaro sleeping in his lab this morning?”

The street artist nodded. “He was sleeping in his lab and not on the chair in front of the rooms on the fourth floor!”

“Are you saying this was a set-up by the killer to incriminate Rantaro?” Kiyo pondered.

“Drugging the one taking care of others? That’s a low blow...” Angie noted.

“Could you explain your reasoning in more details? This is a rather weak argument in my opinion. Rantaro could have taken the second chair to his lab.” Tsumugi asked.

Upon a quick glance, Shuichi could see the medic’s nails digging into the wooden podium. Considering her attitude last trial, she wouldn’t stop accusing Rantaro for a while.

“When I brought dinner in Rantaro’s lab yesterday, there weren’t any chairs at all in the room. I’m sure of it.” Shuichi explained. “What did the chair look like?”

“It looked like one of the chairs in Kirumi’s lab.”

“My lab?” Kirumi repeated.

“Definitely from your lab.”

The mercenary pondered for a moment. “I was in my lab until nighttime to do my regular cleaning. And no chairs were missing, I’m sure of it.”

Tsumugi continued her interrogation. “And when exactly was the dinner brought to the Despair disease group?”

“It was around 7 PM, I think?” Miu turned to Shuichi.

“I would say between 7:00 PM and 7:30 PM.” the violinist confirmed.

Kaito looked at his monopad. “But if Kirumi was in her lab he couldn’t have taken it!”

“So if Rantaro didn’t take it between after dinner and the nighttime announcement I think we can safely say that he actually never did.” Shuichi concluded.

Tsumugi stayed silent for a second.

“... Not the strongest argument, but we cannot afford to be picky about this for now.”

Rantaro let out a small sigh of relief. At least the prodigy seemed to have learned since last trial.

Angie tapped her cheek with a finger. “But the killer would have to put the soporific in Rantaro’s plate specifically, right? Which means...”

She turned to Shuichi, tilting her head to the side. “... That whoever put the plate in Rantaro’s lab was the one to do it.”

“In other words, you, Shuichi.”

His heart skipped a beat. Everyone’s eyes were on him.

“I- um...”

He had never been accused directly by someone. Last time, Ryoma had suspected a whole group including him, but direct accusation felt different.

He hated it.

Ryoma, Tsumugi and Angie’s accusatory glares sent chills down his spine.

Miu and Kaito waited for his answer with worry on their faces. Like they wanted to believe he didn’t do it. It was his idea to go in Rantaro’s lab by himself to put the plate here. Was Miu staying silent for his sake?

Kirumi, Kiyo and Rantaro were unreadable. It was clear that they didn’t care who was the blackened. They only wanted to stay alive at all costs, which was understandable.

But upon a quick glance, even though Shuichi was accused of killing Himiko of all people, Kokichi wasn’t even looking at him, and he could understand even less what he was thinking.

Was Kokichi wondering something?

He pushed that idea aside. He had to find a good defense, quick.

“I-”

“I don’t know why you think that, but Rantaro wasn’t the only one to get drugged yesterday.”

Everyone suddenly turned to the source of the voice.

Kokichi.

“... What?”

“Yesterday after Rantaro gave me dinner I felt tired and fell asleep soon after.” he said in a low voice.

“So all the plates were drugged after all?” Kaito voiced.

“Now hold on a second.” Tsumugi frowned. “You remember what happened while you had the disease?”

“So you don’t remember either, Tsumugi.” Ryoma confirmed.

She brought up an important point. If those two had no memory of the last few days, how could Kokichi be the only one to remember?

Kokichi looked at Tsumugi with confused eyes. “You... Don’t...?”

It’s true that he hadn’t been there when Tsumugi informed them about this. But the situation felt strange.

“So you just had a fever after all?” Rantaro asked.

Shuichi thought about the day the disease appeared.

...

“W-wait…”

Kokichi raised his hand. “I d-don’t really know… M-Maybe I’m wrong but… I feel like I have it t-too…”

Himiko jumped. “Huh? Really?”

He nodded. “I… I feel dizzy a-and my head is spinning… But I don’t feel any mental change s-so I’m not sure.”

Rantaro approached him and put the palm of his hand on the small boy’s forehead. “You’re feverish. We shouldn’t take any risks.”

...

“I don’t know... Maybe but I... Don’t really know...” Kokichi muttered.

Shuichi may not be the best at reading people, but it was easy to see that the shock, the grief was getting to him to the point of not feeling like doing anything.

That there was no point in continuing.

An atrocious feeling of pure despair.

Kirumi pondered. “We know someone put soporifics in the meals. At least we’re getting somewhere.”

Tsumugi crossed her arms. “I still don’t exclude Rantaro as a suspect since there was a possibility he didn’t want us possibly interrupting him.”

Rantaro rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m not even trying to convince you anymore.”

“That means we can exclude the ill ones as suspects, right?” Kaito asked.

“I wouldn’t say so that soon.” Tsumugi replied. “Rantaro was still the only one to look after us. Sneaking out was definitely a possibility.”

“That includes you, doesn’t it?” Angie asked.

“It also includes Ryoma and Kokichi. I know better than to exclude myself as a suspect to the price of excluding the culprit as well.”

Shuichi glanced at the other two in question. Ryoma was pretty unlikely considering how he acted the morning he got the disease.

And Kokichi... He was still a mystery. But if he really was the culprit, why would he defend Rantaro and him?

It wouldn’t make sense, but this was not out of the question.

If only they knew what Kokichi even had. That would at least help them understanding the situation.

“Say, Kokichi, do you still feel feverish?” Rantaro raised an eyebrow. He seemed to be wondering the same.

“Not really... I feel awful but... Not physically.” he mumbled. “I’m just tired.”

“If his symptoms stopped right after Himiko died, then surely he had the disease, right?” Angie questioned.

“That’s most likely, but Rantaro, can you confirm the lack of mental change for him?” Kirumi added.

“Nope. No mental change, I’m sure of it.” he answered.

“Is this really important, though?” Tsumugi asked. “We’re straying away from our objective he-”

“How about I spice things up for a change?” Monokuma interrupted.

Angie looked confused. “Spice things up...?”

“I am suggesting you all a deal!”

Shuichi frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Here’s the deal. If you investigate Keebo’s death, which I doubt any of you will do by yourself in this class trial, I will reveal Karma boy’s condition!”

Kiyo looked unimpressed. “... You just admitted the two deaths were not linked in the slightest.”

The bear started sweating. “That’s- Not-”

“It’s not like we didn’t expect it.” Ryoma rolled his eyes.

“Hey! I can’t let you do a class trial with two deaths without any of you investigating the second!” the bear yelled.

The group exchanged glances.

“What do we do...? Is it really that important?” Shuichi pondered.

“If Monokuma suggests telling us that probably means something.” Kiyo put a finger on his chin.

The group started arguing whether or not it was a good idea.

“My, my... Am I hearing a split opinion?” Monokuma put his paws on his mouth.

“I swear I’m going to break this bear into pieces one day.” Ryoma muttered under his breath.

Monokuma placed the key in the lock and turning it.

The podiums started elevating, creating two sides.

This was the third time this happened, and yet Shuichi really couldn’t get used to getting so high in the air, holding onto the podium as hard as he could.

The podiums separated into two sides.

Is Keebo’s death worth investigating?

On the left, Rantaro, Tsumugi, Kirumi, Miu and Kaito. It’s not worth it!

On the right, Ryoma, Shuichi, Kokichi, Kiyo and Angie. It’s worth it!

Scrum debate, start!

Tsumugi: The two deaths are unrelated. We only need to find the first killer!

Ryoma: Because the two deaths are unrelated doesn’t mean Keebo doesn’t deserve justice.

Kirumi: Even if Monokuma reveals what Kokichi’s condition was, I doubt this will truly be useful for this case.

Kokichi: At least I want to know what my condition was...

Miu: But if the two are unrelated, what kind of hints would it give us?

Kiyo: If Monokuma makes a deal with us about it, then it’s probably an important hint.

Kaito: Monokuma could be lying to us for all we know!

Angie: Monokuma is loyal to his rules, lying wouldn’t be good for him~~

Rantaro: There is still a time limit. We can debate about this after the trial is over!

Shuichi: There is a chance Monokuma will give us hints about Keebo’s death as well if we do it during this trial!

The podiums went back to normal.

“Please guys... I know we shouldn’t agree with Monokuma but we could miss a major hint...”

The other group glanced at each other.

Rantaro sighed. “We don’t have a choice, do we?”

Monokuma chimed in. “Nope! You guys will investigate on both deaths! I’m just offering you a nice reward if you do it now!”

The medic glared at the bear for a second. “... Alright. Then it’s for the best.”

“We have to investigate Keebo’s death.”

#ndrv3 #danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 au #beta au #main story

[nerdylittleshit]

Thoughts about Spn 14x03

SPOILERS AHEAD! BEWARE!

Soooooooooooooooo, another great episode. This week I think the balance between character focus and plot was more equal, after two very character driven episode. Though I do like the slow development of the plot so far. There are two minor things I want to complain about: first I wished we would have seen more of the Wayward Girls, aka Claire, Patience and Alex, instead of just mentioning them. Second: CAS AND JODY STILL HAVEN’T MET! How is that even possible? But maybe we should be careful for what we wish for, because we demanded for years for Cas and Charlie to meet and when they finally did Charlie died an episode later.

Anyway. There is a lot to unpack again, so as always, let’s take a closer look.

Angry AF

Hey, I didn't mean…  I didn't mean to be a dick.

So let’s start with the man of the hour: Dean. Oh how we missed you and your snark (btw I love Sam’s beard and so does Jody, and that is really all that matters). There is a whole lot of unanswered question concerning Michael and the episode doesn’t even try to answer them, because as for now they are not important. Important is Dean and what Michael did to him. Dean is, as other Kaia noted, scared, but to him fear translates into anger, because that is the only way he has learned to deal with it. He acts like a man possessed (oh the irony), and wants to skip to the end of the story where he kills Michael. Which is such an interesting meta commentary, because the show tells us that it will take some time until we get some answers, that both Dean and the audience have to muddle through what this possession made of him, until we get the big showdown. This is really just the start, and we can’t skip ahead to the end. And this makes me think we might get entire season that is more interested in its characters than the plot, than instead of the multiple story arcs we had in prior season we really just get one big story this season and that it takes some time to tell it. Which makes me really excited.

The most interesting part to me was Dean’s confrontation with the other Kaia. She noted the similarities between Dean and Michael, how they both run on threats and violence. And the episode before already asked us the question if the connection between angel and vessel isn’t just the bloodline, but a similarity in character as well. 14x02 left it open for interpretation if it was Nick who had killed his family, if he might have been a monster even before Lucifer made him one. This week we saw how very alike Dean and Michael are, at least from Kaia and other Kaia’s perspective. Kaia experienced Dean as a violent man, as someone she was afraid of. We do know that while Dean has a dark side that there is more to him, we do get the full picture, whereas Kaia only saw a glimpse. Is it possible than that (arch)angels feed on the worst version of their vessels? Or simply bring out the features similar to them? Michael and Lucifer then, sinister creatures, fed on both Nick and Michael’s dark side, whereas Cas, the angel with too much heart, was influenced by Jimmy’s kindness and his wish to do the right thing? I always found the relationship between vessels and angels very interesting and it seems this season will give us a few new insides on it.

The other thing that has changed is of course Dean’s home, the bunker. Naturally Dean will need some time to get used to all the people there, and that they see Sam as their leader. In contrast to that the scene where Dean commanded Cas to get in his head seemed almost intimate, just the core three of them. And speaking of Cas, it seemed to me that there was some sort of distance between Dean and Cas, despite Dean allowing Cas to get in his head. There was no reunion hug (Jack got one), and Dean was very quick to agree that Cas should look after Lora. It was like Dean tried to put some walls up, but then he did the same thing around Sam, so it might not be specific related to Cas. I’m curious to see how their next interaction will be.

There is also still the mystery of the spear, what it is exactly and why it could hurt Michael (and possibly kill him). Do Archangels exist in every universe and could that been an Archangel weapon? How did other Kaia got it? And what is her plan/motivation?

Also, the modified vampires knew that Dean was Dean again, and no longer Michael, so can monsters sense angels? (Was that mentioned at some point?)

We end the episode with Dean once again drowning in guilt, thinking it is his fault alone that Michael got the chance to hurt people. Guilty Dean is known for not always making the best choices, so we have to wait to see where this gets us.

Wayward AF

I just feel like I sort of already lost before I ever began.

As I mentioned before I wish we would have seen more of the Wayward Girls, because I love their interactions, both with Jody and each other, but I take what I can get. The Wayward story is now intervened with the Michael story through other Kaia and her weapon. I don’t think that was the original plan for Wayward Sisters, as they probably would have a myth-arc independent from Supernatural, but this way it means we are definitely going to see them again, and they will (hopefully) play a bigger role this season. And Jody and Cas might actually meet, though it seemed on the phone like they do know each other (though it is possible they only know each through phone conversations, because I do hope they didn’t had their first meeting off camera already).

One of the big things we can take away from this episode is that Dreamhunter has been confirmed canon. I think Bobo confirmed after 13x10 that Dreamhunter is definitely a thing, but still it is good it is canon now, especially as it wasn’t necessary for the plot to make them romantic. Claire’s guilt over Kaia could be still as intense without her having romantic feelings, but they still went there. Which I will use to talk briefly about Destiel, because we can’t talk about the one without the other. Or we could have if Wayward Sisters would have become its own show, because then Dreamhunter would have no longer be related to Destiel, as they would have both appeared on separate shows. And sure the CW has a thing for spin-offs or shows that share the same universe (Arrowverse) but those shows usually don’t parallel each other. But unfortunately Wayward Sisters isn’t its own show, but for now part of Supernatural, and because of that Dreamhunter do mirror Destiel. And Bobo knows that because he put in those parallels deliberate in 13x10, and Dabb knows it as well, so I take that as a win on the Destiel front.

I liked that we got to know other Kaia a bit better. She is not a monster, and she might even become an ally to the Winchesters and their fight against Michael. I wonder though why she wanted to kill Claire. She confirms that she and our Kaia were connected, because they were both Dreamwalkers. Does that mean she was aware of what our Kaia felt for Claire? And if so, why would she kill Claire? What is her goal? There are too many questions surrounding her character for her not to come back, and I do hope we will see Claire again and her reaction to other Kaia.

And lastly, that quote of Jody I put up there: in show Jody talks about her grief about losing Kaia before she even got to know her, but from outside this is Bobo talking about losing his show before it even started, about the characters he loves so much, and the meaningful stories they were meant to tell us. Those lines and Kim acting them so brilliantly was a huge F*ck You towards the CW, showing us the kind of depth Wayward Sisters could have had, and making me longing for this show even more. I hope they shove in as much of Wayward Sisters into the show as they can, but I’m still very bitter about everything we could have had and that we don’t get to see.

Nougat AF

Well what you did today, you just made me so proud.

Awwwwwwwwwwwwww Jack (that is just my usual reaction whenever I see him). Seems like he didn’t listen at all when Cas told him last episode to find value in his own, but never mind, this week’s case will do the trick. Obviously Lora functioned as a Jack mirror in a not that subtle way. She ran away from home, because she was sick of being treated as a child, the same way Jack planed to leave, because of how Sam, Dean and Cas have treated him. So far the mirror works. But then Lora met a witch, a witch that was at first kind, but then she locked her up, and started to steal her youth, which then resulted in Lora’s (temporally) death. We know that Sam, Dean and Cas have been kind to Jack, have fed him, and also currently locked him up for his own safety. And in the end Jack starts to wither away in some way, the way Lora did. But it wouldn’t make a lot of sense if Sam, Dean and Cas would be the witch in this story, so who is? Someone we already met or someone in the future? Why is Jack’s health deteriorating? Is it a result of the spell the witch used on Lora? Does it have other origins? And how can we help him? Just after jack realized that he can help other people without his powers, that there are many ways to be useful, after Cas offered him a hunting trip. I can’t deal with Jack being sick, he is my sweet Nougat child.

Some other things:

Speaking of Jack, he referred to Cas as one of his dads, contracting the statement from last week that Kelly’s family is the only real family he has left. But also, from Lora’s perspective, who doesn’t know who or what Jack is and his relationship to the Winchesters, this sounds like Jack has two gay dads… which you know is actually true.

I love that the show didn’t forget about Sam’s weird obsession with serial killers.

They have a bottom drawer marked “gross stuff”. Of course they have.

Obviously Posh Spice is Michael’s favourite Spice Girl.

#supernatural #spn 14x03 #the scar #spn meta #spoilers #my meta

[lavieendonna]

Brushwork || ArtMajor!Calum - Chapter 27

Summary: An Art Major AU where Dallas - third year gawky art student at VCA -  makes a deal with Calum - her cute new neighbour and project partner - and they spend the semester learning that the perfect masterpiece takes a whole lot of brushwork.

Date: 15 February 2019 Requested: lol     Pairing: Calum + Dallas Words: 4K Warnings: as always, Dallas has a fucking potty mouth.  A/N: Here we go, first update of the year! And just in time for the day after Valentine’s Day ahahahaha I'm so shit lmao anyway, I hope you like this. I have been trying to pump this chapter out for literal months. In that time, though, there has been a small revival of this story with some new readers so I guess, this chapter is dedicated to you guys! There’s only a couple more chapters left in this story, but fear not as I have already begun the next in the series - make sure to head over and check out the Ashton spin-off ‘Snapshot’ and let me know what you think. Thanks so much, guys, you keep me motivated!

Big Love xo

Ask | Masterlist | ‘Brushwork’ Spotify Playlist | Next Chapter | ‘Brushwork’ News | ‘Snapshot’

Chapter 27: I Did What I Could to Supress the Urge to Smother Myself and Stretched Out My Aching Bones Until They Cracked.

The first thing I felt, as soon as I was conscious enough to know I was still alive, was relief. I hadn’t realised how much weight needed lifting from my shoulders until that first five minutes after waking up in my old bedroom at my mother’s house – and to feel that in a place that used to bring me nothing but anxiety and grief was something like a Christmas miracle. And it was only October!

“Hey loser, are you getting up today?”

Isabelle leaned into the room, hair looking much like mine but, you know, nicer in every conceivable way. Her eyes weren’t as puffy as hey had been the last few days, and her cheeks had more colour in them than I’d seen since, probably, Liesel’s engagement.

“I’m not a loser.” I croaked out, much more man-ish than my sister would ever sound in her life. But, regardless, she snorted unattractively the way only a James woman could and even through squinty eyes and without my glasses, I knew she was rolling her eyes at me.

“You’re twenty-two years old, sleeping in your childhood bedroom at nine on a Saturday morning, and your mum is probably cooking your breakfast for you as we speak.” Belle said very matter-of-factly. “You’re definitely a loser. Come on, Mum said she wants to talk.”

“At nine in the morning?!”I whined and I was met with a pillow to my head before she called out something unintelligible through the walls.

With a small sigh I heaved myself out from under the covers. The thought of my mother wanting to talk even more than we had was making my stomach do flips, but I did what I could to supress the urge to smother myself and stretched out my aching bones until they cracked.

Belle was right; Mum was flipping bacon when I padded into the kitchen. She was wearing the same red apron from last night but this time over a pair of light-wash skinny jeans (that I wasn’t even aware she owned) and a slightly oversized burgundy plaid shirt. Naturally her hair was already brushed to perfection, the long dark waves tucked behind her ears, and somehow her lips were a bolder shade of red than they were yesterday. She looked more relaxed than I had ever seen her. Probably including when we were kids.

“Help your sister set the table.” She said with a smile and not a hint of condescension. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

I swallowed the anxiety and let myself bask in the rare warmth my mother was radiating for a little while longer.

“Good morning to you too, mother.” I said cheekily through a yawn. She just rolled her eyes at me and gestured toward the breakfast condiments sitting in a tray on the counter. I chuckled lightly to myself as I picked it up and dragged my feet through the kitchen and into the dining room where Belle was setting out cutlery.

“Do you have any idea what this is about?” I asked her with an arched brow and she just made a face.

“Do I ever?” She scoffed and I gave a small chuckle.

“Seriously, though,” I said a little more seriously, putting the tray down in the middle of the table between the places Belle had laid the placemats. “What do you think it is?”

Belle just shrugged, and I got a weird tingle in my stomach again as I watched my sister lack interest in whatever my mother had running through her brain gears. I knew that she was probably worried in her own way, but the way Belle held herself together made me wish that I could do that too.

We finished setting up without much more conversation and just as Belle lay down the last of the napkins, Mum came hurrying in with a pan of bacon in one hand and a plate of eggs in the other. I quickly put extra placemats down on the table for her to rest them on and she disappeared for a brief moment once again to fetch a plate of toast while Belle went back for glasses and orange juice.

“Dig in, ladies!” Mum said with delight, more chipper than I’d ever seen her. I glanced over to Belle when she wondered back in and she was giving me the same incredulous look, both of us then turning back to our mother.

“Mother,” Belle took the lead (which I prayed and thanked the Lord for), sitting quickly and loading her plate with an arched brow. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Mum chuckled and while it was a nice sound, it didn’t really make me feel better. Have I ever mentioned I didn’t do well with the unknown? I started to pour the juice to keep my hands busy enough to not tremble.

“I was getting there.” The woman rolled her eyes as she took to buttering herself a piece of toast. “But since you two are so patient –” she shot us both a look that almost terrified me out of my skin. “– I have a proposition for you.”

Usually my mother saved her big words for court, so her use of the term ‘proposition’ kind of unnerved me. But she smiled as she said it, and not in an evil or scheming way either which meant we weren’t being put on trial for whatever was on her mind.

Belle and I sat and chose to say nothing this time, not even looking at each other (or Mum for that matter). I had the feeling that whatever was making my mum this happy was going to be worth hearing without my input or smart remarks, or anything that might ruin it for her and put us back where all of this shit started.

“I know that you girls have…” Mum paused briefly to clear her throat. “You’ve had it tough the last few weeks, between school and your…  your friends.”

I shot Isabelle a glare – she’d clearly told my mother about what happen with Polly, though I wasn’t exactly sure when. It wasn’t that I was never going to tell my mum or anything like that, I just wasn’t in the mood to retell the story of my fallout with Polly over and over again. Because with my mother, you could never tell her a story just once. She needed to hear all of the ins and outs of every angle imaginable. She’d ask me to get inside Polly’s head and tell her Polly’s exact thoughts at the time of the incident and that kind of sorcery was just beyond my paygrade.

Nonetheless, B just shrugged at me without so much as a hint of guilt and I was reduced to sulking in silence while Mum continued.

“And I’m not saying I enjoy knowing my girls are struggling, but I do think this is a good chance for me to do something that I will benefit from just as much.”

I blinked at my mother’s choice of words between chews.

“Uh, I’m sure it wasn’t your intention to sound at all patronising or like you have shitty parenting skills, Mum, but um...” I offered a sidelong look. “But that sounded really patronising and like you have shitty parenting skills.”

“Language!” She scolded me. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Come on, Deej,” Belle smirked. “I’m sure whatever she’s trying to say has someredeeming qualities.”

And for that Mum reached over and slapped my sister upside the head. I smirked at that one, it was about time someone slapped B for her mouth. I was just sorry it wasn’t me.

“Will you two knock it off?” Mum rolled her eyes at us, taking a sip from her juice whilst simultaneously glowering at us over the glass. “I’m trying to do something nice for us all.”

“Sorry, Mum.” We chimed like kindergarteners and Mum just straightened her shoulders again and puffed her chest smugly like she was sitting on the juiciest piece of news anyone would ever hear.

“If you’d like – if it makes things easier for you both – you can move back in with me.” She said, not exactly in a frank ton, but it was straight to the point and blunt enough to stun both B and I into speechlessness.

“It’s not ideal, I know, but… I want for you to know that while you’re figuring out your next steps – whatever they may be – you can always come here… come to me. And whether or not its long or short term is up to you. Dallas, I know you had your heart set on Saint Kilda for your last year, and Isabelle I know your housemate is a pain in your ass. At least this way, you can stay here comfortably without worrying about anything else until you need to, you know? And I get to spend more time with you both and actually be part of your lives in your twenties.”

Mum smiled encouragingly at her daughters and it was really, really hard not to smile back. It wasn’t often that Mum offered these kinds of things without needing some kind of collateral or compensation for her time and suffering. Almost the whole time I’d been at VCA she always had some kind of ulterior motive, but I knew this time wasn’t going to be like that. There was something in Mum’s eyes that glistened with something like hope or peace or maybe it was genuine happiness. Whichever way, it was nice.

“What do you reckon?” Mum prompted hopefully. I didn’t even hesitate when I stood from my seat and circled to over to Mum, enveloping her into a hug.  

“Thanks, Ma.” I whispered lowly in her ear as she reached up as much as she could to squeeze me back. Belle joined us not a moment later, giggling just a little the way she always did when she was happy.

“You’re the best, you know that?” She told Mum and it just made her laugh as we let go and went back to our seats.

“Oh, I know.” She winked at Belle with cheek.

“Honestly, Ma.” Belle smiled. “Nancy is the worst, she doesn’t even let me smoke dope in the house.”

“Isabelle Rosella!”

Aside from B trying to give my mother a stroke, breakfast went well. There were no more emotional heart-to-heart conversations and not a whole lot of tension. After Mum got through her half-hour long speech about the dangers of marijuana – even the medical kind! – we cleaned up and washed the dishes by hand like old times. It was nice, and for a minute it was like it wasn’t our problems that had brought us together.

While Mum and Belle mucked around I decided they could do without my help (or lack thereof, to be honest) and excused myself to take a shower. Even though it was barely ten thirty in the morning, it’d been a long day. I didn’t feel drained, as such, but there was just something about the conversation over breakfast that made me feel like I needed to wash off the last of my dirt. Not that moving back in with my mother would ever be the last of my dirty laundry, hell no. I was a deeply flawed human being, there was always going to be some kind of crisis going on in my life.

That being said, if I did move back in with my mother then there was also the chance that it would make it easier to deal with said crises. Hell, maybe I could even confide in my mother about them. Living back at home with her would mean that whatever happened between now and my next step, at least there was an actual place that could feel like home to take the edge off.

The water was scalding hot and practically burnt the skin off of my back. I let the water run over me and through my hair and watched the water go from murky to clear for what felt like forever. I could have spent my whole life in there if I thought it would have fixed anything.

Tilting my head back, I let the water run through my hair again and felt the weight of the heavy locks pull gently at my skull. Water was running into my eyes but I did what I could to keep them open. I didn’t want to spent a lot more of my life with my eyes shut, and maybe that was out of paranoia or self-preservation. But a lot of it was because even though this part of my life was somewhat resolved, things with Calum weren’t and it was still weighing heavy on my mind.

I shuddered at the reminder of how shitty things between Calum and I still were, shutting off the shower in a huff and grabbing the towel that was hanging over the side of the shower to cover my face quickly. I pushed the fabric as far into my eye sockets as I could, trying to push the image of Calum walking away from me out of my mind. When that didn’t work I wrapped the towel around me and sat myself down on the floor, putting my head between my knees in an effort to get ahead of the panic attack I could feel rising in my gut.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, but apparently it was long enough for my mother to come looking.

“Dallas?” She called through the door. “Dallas, honey, are you alright?”

I gasped, sitting upright quickly with wide eyes and my heart racing.

“I’m –!” I sniffled, only now aware that I was crying. “Mum, yeah I-I’m fine!”

It didn’t matter, she was already creaking the door open to find me curled up on the floor.

“Hey! Hey… Honey, what… what’s wrong?” She came in, shutting the door quickly behind her before she dropped to her knees in front of me, hands reaching for my face immediately.

“What? I’m…” I spluttered for my words as Mum’s piercing eyes stared me down, deeply set with worry.

I thought about lying, but as what seemed to be the case lately, something in my mother's eyes told me that she wasn't going to accept anything but the truth.

"You can tell me, Dallas." She said softly, wiping at the stray tears still leaking from the corners of my eyes, and taking the corner of my towel and dabbing my cheeks with it. "What happened?"

I heaved a sigh, my chest feeling tight as I dreaded saying the words out loud.

"It's Calum." I said simply, still trying to figure out the best way to say what I was feeling. Mum frowned, suddenly a little scared (or so it looked, anyway).

"What did he do?" She asked immediately concerned. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

"What?" I frowned. "No! Jesus, Mum, why... no!"

"Oh, thank god." Mum breathed a heavy sigh of relief, hand over her heart as she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. "I am waytoo young to be an Abuela."

I rolled my eyes. Mum had never really shown much connection (or interest, really) to our Hispanic lineage, but the minute she thought the first of her Grandkids were on the way she was an 'Abuela'. Talk about typical.

Honestly, it wouldn't have surprised me if she was secretly fluent in Spanish all along and could trace our ancestors back for centuries. It seemed like the kind of thing she would know and never tell anyone until she needed to brag.

Pregnancy scares aside, that wasn't what I was worked up about. I heaved another sigh, chomping on the inside of my cheek as I tried to push pass the complete humiliation piercing me straight through the soul.

"He, um." I cleared my throat. "Calum and I aren't speaking at the moment. We had a fight a while ago and some shit went down with our mural at the reveal last week."

My bottom lip trembled, and I felt like I probably looked a lot like a four-year-old trying to pull Puppy Dog Eyes for attention.

"What kind of shit?" Mum took to asking, and I tried to suppress the shock when she didn't immediately jump to conclusions. "What did you fight about?"

I winced at the memory of the complete shit show of a first date that Calum and I went on. it seemed like it was so long ago or in a whole different time. I'd been through so much in the matter of only a week that I already felt like I was a different person back then - I felt like the phrase 'back then' was warranted because of how distant it all seemed. But the reality was that it had all happened so fast - it was still happening, technically. And I had no idea how to fix any of it. All I could do was sit on the bathroom floor and cringe.

"We, uh. We went on this date." I began the long story. "And it was going great; we went to watch our friend Luke perform at this bar. But Ashton and Isabelle showed up, and at first it was fine but then Belle and I had this argument and then Pollyshowed up and things got worse and it just... the whole night turned to shit."

I'd managed to avoid looking at my mother's face for a while, but at the mention of fighting with my sister made me feel like I needed to sneak a peek. I glanced, her brow arching, and I could tell that she wasn't exactly following along.

"Hold on, why were you and your sister fighting?" I cringed again, not sure how to approach the explanation without accidentally stealing Belle's coming out like some kind of monster.

"She... was mad at me." I said vaguely. "Her and Polly felt like I'd been telling lies about them to our friends."

"And had you?" She asked.

Once again, I was pleasantly surprised that Mum was actually listening to everything I had to say before she offered any kind of interpretation or advice. She wasn't even interrupting me at all! It truly was a Christmas Miracle.

“I… Not intentionally.” I admitted.

There was something about accepting the fact that I’d actually done something wrong that made me feel a little bit better about myself as a person. It was one thing to know that I was a deeply flawed person but, like, for comic relief, but it was a whole other thing to know that I was capable of hurting people and to be willing to do what I could to rectify that.

“Calum was just trying to help, but I think I pushed him too far this time.” My voice was so small and quiet I wasn’t even sure it was mine. “All he wanted to do was show me that he cared about me but I… I freaked out and I pushed him away because it was easier than letting him get involved, you know?”

I sniffled again, a fresh batch of tears welling in my eyes as I finally said the words out loud that I’d been avoiding. Because it was true, I really had probably pushed Calum too far. And I doubted there was a lot left for me to do to fix it.

“Well, my girl,” Mum exhaled deeply, patting my thigh with one hand and lifting my chin with the other so she could look me in the eye with a soft, yet pointed, look. “You wanna know what I think?”

I wiped my nose ungracefully on the back of my hand but nodded. A small smile twitched on the corners of Mum’s red lips, but it was only for a fraction of a second.

“You haven’t got a chance of getting him back if you’re crying on the floor.”

I blinked dumbly at the words Mum had just said. They were brutal and slightly offensive words but she’d said them with such love and encouragement that I was actually kind of confused and, almost, a little overwhelmed.

“Uh… what?” I stammered and Mum just shrugged, wiping at my cheeks again with her thumbs.

“Seriously, Dallas, look at you.” She said simply. “I love you, I do. But Calum doesn’t need you to grovel on your knees and weep about how he’ll never forgive you. The reason you are in this mess is because, by the sounds of it, you were trying to make everybody’s decisions for them. You can’t decide how people should feel about other people, and you can’t decide that you don’t want them involved in your life and your problems. People like Calum… they want to be involved, that’s their whole thing. They want to be there for you and they want to show you. And it’s your job to not be selfish and just… let them.”

I knew she was right because I felt stupid.

“Your father was like that, you know.” Mum continued a little softer. I perked up at the mention of him, glancing up to Mum and watched as her entire face softened and her shoulders relaxed. She didn’t really bring up my Dad in conversations on her own that often.  There was a small smile hiding in the kiss of her lips and it was such a sight, to see how much love she still had left in her eyes for that man.

“Really?” I asked, and Mum nodded.

“Oh, yeah. When we first started going out – dating or whatever kids call it now – I was very closed off and I tried to pick and choose what parts of my life he knew about, what things he did or didn’t know about me. But he wasn’t having any of it, he needed to know that I was in it as much as he was. And for him to really know that I was… that I felt the same, I had to find it in me to let him in. All the way. You need to do the same with Calum, Dal. He’s… he’s special. And he needs to know that you think so.”

I didn’t have much to say to any of that, so I just pulled Mum as close to me as I could and squeezed. She laughed and I could feel the vibrations rumbling through her chest, the sound warming me from the inside out.

“Do you know what you remind me of, Dallas?” She asked me as she pulled herself up off the floor with a grunt before taking my hands and lifting me up too.

“What’s that?”

We both turned to look into the mirror at our reflections, Mum’s arm snaking around my waist as she pulled me close to her, reaching in front of me with her other hand to tuck my wet hair behind my ears.

“You remember the that stained-glass window we used to have in the back door of the conservatory?” She asked and I cocked my eyebrow at her.

“The one with the butterfly that smashed when Belle and I put a softball through it?” I still remembered that day very vividly – it was the only time where Dad had been the one to really punish us. He only grounded us, and it was only for a few days, but it was the most terrifying few days of our short 8 years of life. Mum laughed and nodded.

“Yes, that one.” She confirmed with a smile and I just frowned even more, failing to understand the resemblance.  

“I remind you of a window?”

Mum rolled her eyes.

“The butterfly.” She stressed and I made a face until she clarified her thoughts into words. “You’re so sensitive, Dallas. But you’re so, so beautiful, even when you’re broken.”

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[blackwelldestiny]

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[familycourtcorruption]

Gaslighting: How To Demystify And Protect Yourself From The Narcissist’s Smoke-Screen

  Gaslighting is a term that most abuse communities are very familiar with.

But what does it mean?

How does it affect people?

Why is gaslighting so hard to identify, and so mentally and emotionally damaging?

How can you get clear that you are being gaslit, remove and protect yourself and recover from its insidious effects?

The answers to these questions are very important because if you are being abused, there is every chance that you are being gaslit.

  The Origins of the Word Gaslighting

If you are not sure what the expression ‘gaslighting’ means, Wikipedia describes it like this – a  form of manipulation that seeks to sow seeds of doubt in a targeted individual or members of a group, hoping to make targets question their own memory, perception, and sanity.

The term owes its origin to a 1938 play called Gas Light and its 1944 film adaptation.

Gaslighting is commonly used by toxic and abusive individuals to diminish others, which often means close intimates or other people who they wish to gain control over, as well as punish.

Let’s examine how this gaslighting plays out.

  The Main Tactic of Gaslighting – Confusion

If you are feeling confusion regarding what is real and what isn’t real, there is a good chance that you are being gaslit.

An example of this would be that you have a conversation with someone and you know what was actually said. Then this person, as narcissists often do when confronted, flatly denies ever saying it at all, and will tell you that you completely misheard what was said.

You know you didn’t, yet, you start to doubt yourself. You believe there is a possibility you misheard things. Worse still, you might begin to think that you are losing your mind. After all, this person is apparently so convinced that you are wrong.

Confusions of this type are an incredibly common occurrence with an abuser, and this is only the beginning of how far it can go and how devastating gaslighting can be.

The following is a classic example of how gaslighting can take place. Tracy, one of my clients, experienced a situation of confusion and horrific punishment through the use of gaslighting.

This lady’s mother had very recently died, and friends and family gathered at her home in deep commiseration together. Her narcissistic husband was incensed because the attention wasn’t on him.

Tracy had too much to drink in her state of deep grief, and when she woke up the next morning her husband was gone. He went missing for three days with his phone turned off.

When he returned, he told Tracy that she was seen in the kitchen kissing her own male cousin. He said that he wasn’t the only one who caught her out, and there were other family members who were also disgusted by her actions.

Tracy was mortified. She was drunk that night, she couldn’t remember. She was horrified thinking she may have done it, even though she had never felt any attraction or romantic inclination towards her cousin.

In our Quanta Freedom Healing session together, we shifted out not only the grief of losing Tracy’s mother but also the terrible trauma of her husband’s accusation.

Because the terrible feelings had shifted out of her Inner Being, Tracy got very clear about showing up in integrity and confronting these allegations. She contacted people who were present at the house that evening. When Tracy told people what her husband had said, they were shocked. They told her that she had done nothing of the kind, and that her husband’s mood and behaviour towards her that night had been totally unsupportive and horrible.

This is the thing when we’re not in our power, we recoil in shame and don’t check out the facts. Tracy’s husband had not expected her to do that. When she confronted him about his abusive behaviour he quickly changed to the next gaslighting tactic, ‘Of course people aren’t going to admit what they saw, it’s too disgusting’, and ‘Not only should I leave you for what you did but why would I stay with a wife who believes other people’s lies instead of her own husband?’

Of course, this threw Tracy into an even worse spin. That’s exactly what gaslighting is all about.

Gaslighting truly is an incredibly malicious tactic. It’s used to punish people by stripping their power and getting them to distrust themselves. It’s also about destroying a person’s own character to themselves and anyone else who will listen.

And sadly, many outside people do listen. Most decent people have been conditioned to believe that when another adult looks them in the eyes and says something horrible about another person, that it must be true.

In this case, Tracy’s narcissistic husband told joint friends and work colleagues his twisted version of what she did that night. Most of these people believed him, including him purporting she had cheated on him numerous times previously.

So, what was his motivation for doing this?

Hurting Tracy – pure and simple. Taking out his rage on her because that evening he couldn’t regulate narcissistic supply and be the centre of attention.

It is important to understand that narcissists will use the tactic of gaslighting to fulfil any agenda necessary for him or her to feed the False Self, or punish someone who hasn’t adequately done so.

  When to Suspect You Are Being Gaslit

Being gaslit is probable if you are facing mind-bending confusion with one specific person in your life.

In other words, if you don’t suffer confusing accusations, information and conversations with other people, this is generally a very strong indication that you are being abused by the person that it is happening with.

If there is no real evidence regarding the information you are being told and if you believe that it was a different version of the events being presented, and especially if the confusing times happen on a regular basis, there is a good possibility that you are being gaslit.

If this person is often unkind, unsupportive, envious, pathologically jealous or prone to try to sabotage your interests and happiness, and takes umbrage when life is not all about him or her, make no mistake – the confusing times are gaslighting episodes.

Gaslighting is cruel – it’s conscienceless – it’s malicious. And it defies what we would like to believe humans are capable of doing.  Truly, only a pathologically disordered person is capable of doing it.

  The Parts of You Susceptible to Being Gaslit

Your emancipation from being gaslit is to realise first of all that anybody who is hurting you is not healthy for you – regardless of what they are saying or doing.

When situations are confusing, you may not be able to make logical sense of what is going on. This is normal. However, when you go inside and start addressing what is being triggered within your Inner Identity with my Narcissistic Abuse Recovery Program (NARP), you will get to the core of the problem.

These are the unhealed parts of yourself which are susceptible to being lied to, manipulated, twisted and confused.

If you have been susceptible to being scapegoated and blamed when you were little or told that whatever you did was never good enough, or parented with guilt tactics, or told how bad and worthless you were, then all of these original traumas can make you highly susceptible to being gaslit.

If you have struggled to trust yourself and believed that other people have more power, jurisdiction or better skills at organising your life than you do, then you are also highly susceptible to being lied to and manipulated through gaslighting.

Gaslighting is one of the narcissistic tactics that prey on our already existing gaps – the parts of ourselves that haven’t been healed and shored up yet – meaning we hand over our rights and value to another person’s opinion of us.

We can easily fall for this, especially if we have a terror of persecution and being criticised rejected, abandoned or punished by those who don’t believe we are a good person.

If you believe that your love, approval, security and survival depends on a key person’s thoughts and feelings about you, then the more they maliciously gaslight you, the more you will cling to them trying to fix their version of you, and to get safety and clarity from them.

Yet, you can’t create sanity out of insanity. Trying to is a dangerous recipe to potentially go fully insane.

You may even capitulate, apologise and hand your values, rights and boundaries away to retain this person in your life, trying to make them love you. Not only does this not work, it will leave you drastically devastated and diminished, and you will become more and more unwell.

  How Do You Heal and Become Impervious to Being Gaslit?

I promise you that when you heal your susceptibilities to abuse, you will never be gaslit again.

In the case of Tracy, when her husband started smashing her with continued gaslighting tactics – threatening to abandon her due to her purported adulterous behaviour and betrayal of him – understandably she was hit with further doubt and panic.

Yet, rather than caving in to him, and handing her power over even further, Tracy went inside herself with Quanta Freedom Healing (NARP) and targeted these intense traumas that were activated within her Inner Being.

The belief systems and original traumas that were at the core of Tracy’s susceptibility to believing him, were how she was scapegoated as a child. These were the unhealed traumas of how she was blamed for her father’s dysfunctional and abusive behaviour. As a child she had taken the blame and the shame on for her father.

Thank goodness that with NARP processes, Tracy was able to load up her original childhood traumas, and release and replace them.

It was then that she anchored into her power and truth.

No more was she a broken little scapegoated girl in an adult woman’s body. Rather, Tracy had clarity and knew that her narcissistic husband was abusing her, was unsupportive and pathological, and that this behaviour was no longer a match for what she wanted or deserved in her life.

This was the beginning of the end of the relationship.

She took action to get a solicitor, moved out and her husband was blindsided regarding her newfound power. She was no longer scared of him, tiptoeing around him or handing him her power.

He then switched to love bombing, apologising and trying to win her back. This predictably triggered her feelings of guilt and obligation and wanting to try to fix things. (Which were other unhealed traumas that had taken place between Tracy and her father during her childhood).

The triggered painful feelings meant that there was just more stuff to heal!

Fortunately, when Tracy was close to capitulating, rather than reconnecting with him, she went inside again with the NARP healings and shifted out the parts of her that were triggered. These were the parts of her that had previously given abusive people repeat chances, time and time again. But finally, Tracy felt impervious and unmoved by her husband’s crocodile tears and false promises.

Now, who he was and what he stood for no longer appealed to her in any shape or form.

Because of being unmoved by him, within six months she received her settlement and he was fully out of her life.

The truth was that Tracy’s emotional attachment and trauma symptoms were healed and finished many months before this.

Such is the case for all of us, when we finally heal the original traumas that the narcissist is presenting as the current evidence in our life. This is because we have awakened, healed and reset our Inner Identity and relationship code to one that no longer matches the abuse that the narcissist in our life delivers.

I promise you the same will be true for you.

Tracy, just like so many of us (myself included) who were gaslit, became a confident, solid human, anchored into her own Inner Being with self-value.

When you have released the trauma that has made you susceptible to being gaslit and shift into your True Self on this topic, you will finally be free of this hideous and malicious form of manipulation.

Okay, so … I dearly hope that this article has helped grant you clarity and power. I also hope that it has given you a roadmap to get up and out of the pain and susceptibility to being abused by someone else’s malicious tactics – otherwise known as gaslighting.

If you know it’s time for you to get serious about healing your original traumas so that you can escape abuse and enter a true, healthy life where you are treated with respect, then it may be time for you to take the next step and start my NARP program.

This holiday time could be the perfect opportunity for you to get serious about healing your Inner Identity and getting relief, clarity and your power back very quickly.

You can get this process started today right here.

And as always, I am so looking forward to our discussion on this topic below.

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The post Gaslighting: How To Demystify And Protect Yourself From The Narcissist’s Smoke-Screen appeared first on Family Court Corruption.

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#Family Court

[canyouhearthechurchbellsringing]

#46: Ali

03/05/17

FTP: So, here we are at the final entry. From awakening in the motel room to now exactly a month had passed, and I was no closer to comprehending the riddles Darek had left behind for me. I still had half a set of coordinates on a notecard. Entry #43, which you have read by now, solved some puzzles but created so many more. The motel room was mine for a few more days and then I would be homeless, living on the streets. Luckily I had an angel watching over me and I’ not necessarily referring to Alice here.

I didn’t get a chance to include it in the earlier entries, but sometime between learning Casey had died and meeting Madrik I had a conversation with Ali in my grief. The end result of it was her asking to come visit me. This entry is the events of her visit. It also includes a little bonus story I think is beneficial to post which reveals the origin of Darek. This is the final entry I had worked on before being convinced to let the investigastion go, so the next entry I post will be in the present. I’m so sick of all these logs bouncing from the past to the present constantly. With luck, this will be the last log that takes place in the past. Then again, I’ve said that before.

09/24/16

I couldn’t quite tell you what it was, maybe Darek’s gaze behind my eyes, but Ali looked beautiful to me. I swear there was a golden aura glowing off her bright hair like a halo.

I’ve been lying most of these entries, shrouding the truth in social status and false appeals. Now I want to tell the truth. Now I want all to be known.

I first dated Ali after my senior year went to hell. My so-called friend Grant had a lot of lies to tell about me and it pretty much ruined my life, everything I felt I was. She was there for me, emotionally… and physically. I told her from the start that our relationship would not work out. Yet I longed for the caresses Casey introduced me to, the feel of someone against my body. Even then I think I may have still harbored a deep yet unrevealed love for Casey. But Casey wasn’t the one there for me. It was always from that moment on me and Ali.

Despite my lack of feelings for her I gave my all to the relationship. I tried to shower her with my affection, and there was a lot of it. I can still grasp that time in fleeting memories. Once we climbed the chain link fence to the elementary school and explored in the dead of night. Ali was no good at fence climbing; back when we dated she was overweight and exercise challenged She ended up losing a lot of weight because her dad pretty much starved her. On the way out of the school she got caught at the top of the fence, too scared to jump down. I encouraged her and cheered her on until she finally made the plunge to safety. As we walked away from that place a cop rolled up to the gate. We lucked out. He didn’t even notice us. When we went to retrieve our bikes we found out that someone had set off one of the silent alarms in the school. Who would have guessed elementary schools were so well-guarded?

That wasn’t the first school we had broken into that night. We had also visited the high school. That memory stuck out in my head. It was the reason we were so confident going into our adventure in the elementary school. We had snuck in through a hole under the fence. I climbed the inner gates and let her through from the other side. We circled round to the football stadium where we had sat through so many dreadful pep rallies and where countless students had displayed their school spirit in support of their team. We climbed to the highest point, over the commentator box, overlooking the whole school. The rain was falling from the heavens, drenching us, and we stripped off all our clothes and made out a bit. If she hadn’t been on her period, God knows I would have lost my virginity that night.

Here she was in front of me, a girl I thought was dead, a girl I considered my best friend, a girl I’d shared many an intimate moment with, and I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. I just broke down crying in her arms, my ear pressed against her chest, listening to her heartbeat.

“She’s dead. Oh God, Ali, she’s dead and I killed her.”

She shushed me and stroked my hair. I felt guarded in her embrace, hidden from Darek and Madrik and Mark and Veronika and all the darkness that dwelt within and without. I let the tears flow like a faucet for my anguish. I knew if anyone could understand my suffering it was Ali.

“It’s all right, sweetie.” She whispered. “God, I haven’t seen you cry like this in ages….”

“I’ll bet.” I whispered into her bosom and laughed. “I missed you, y'know.”

“I know.” She answered quietly. “I missed you, too.”

A silence passed between us, not uncomfortable at all. We had ended up sitting on the edge of my bed in each others’ arms. In the turbulent war my life had become, this was the safest I felt I could be. Maybe that was all I wanted. Someone who understood to hold me and soothe my raging emotions. I guess God has a funny way of answering your prayers.

I looked up at her, deep into her eyes, into her soul. “Do you miss it? Being with Darek?”

She shook her head. “I missed you more.”

I remembered after we broke up, how I couldn’t talk to her without losing my temper, how I chased her away and made her feel worthless. I remembered meeting her again, nearly a year later, around the time I met Jake and started hanging out with Ben and Casey more. I remembered what she told me, how many times she’d tried to commit suicide after it was clear she could never speak to me again. We ended up reaching a sort of homeostasis, her satisfied having me as a friend, me relieved to find someone I could confide in. Even then, though, I remembered all the times she told me she was in love with me, starting before I even asked her out and not ending while she was with Rob. Sure, she never professed any feelings for me flat out, but I still knew. In fact, now that I considered it, she had said it out loud at one point. That was a night I tried not to dwell on, though. That was the night Darek was named. “I never…” I began, tearfully. “I never meant, y'know? For it all to play out like this.”

“Mat, I know.” She pressed her finger to my lips to quiet me. The tears still broke free despite it. “Nobody wanted it like this. It just is.”

I nodded, still at odds with my guilt and longing and insecurity. Life was really something else, putting me in a place like this, a place where I longed for a girl six feet underground and the girl who longed only for me was forced to hold the bronze medal happily. I didn’t even consider Alice in the ironies. Alice was above the hormone-fueled feelings I had for Casey and Ali. In fact, that whole night I spent with Ali, Alice Rachelle Langdon never crossed my mind.

I don’t know why. I certainly didn’t expect it of myself, and I didn’t think it was Darek motivating my actions. Its root changed nothing. I still did what I did. I leaned in closer to her and kissed her on the lips, gently, so gently, but desperately, longingly.

I needed Alice. And I longed for Casey. I didn’t feel either of those things for Ali, but by God I wanted her. I wanted her and in that moment I knew she was all mine.

She returned my kiss with more intensity. She subtly controlled the energy level between us in a way that time seemed to float unhindered and we moved seamlessly from affectionate pecks to enthused deep kissing. I felt my mind slide away to somewhere distant, somewhere sacred.

Something exploded in the center of my mind’s eye. I was in two places then, one engorged with pleasure and abusing the moment for all it was worth, the other trapped in a memory of misery, a night my life changed forever, a night I could remember with ease despite the effort I put into forgetting it.

It was the first time I’d gotten kicked out. Used to be thought of as the only time, but, so far from home, I suspected this was not the case anymore. I met Ali and Rob at the McDonalds we always hung out at, my situation laid bare. Rob promised me if nothing else worked out, he could offer me a place to stay with him and Ali. I should have known better than to get in the middle of their turbulent relationship. But nothing else worked out, and so I was swept far away from my home with two people I loved whose feelings for each other would only grow blacker by the night’s end.

It was a long night in a place next door to Rob’s second mom. It was explained in depth to me before I went there that if I made any commotion it would get them all kicked out. She had brain cancer and her family was very protective of her privacy. Plus he and Ali had had their share of arguments already and were on thin ice. I swore to be on my best behavior and even had Ali promise, if I was getting out of hand, that she would slap me to bring me to my senses. One thing led to another. There were two beds but one was hard as a rock. Rob wanted the comfy bed for himself, but there was no room for Ali. She didn’t mind; she said she’d sleep on the floor. After hearing of the other bed’s infamy, I made the innocent comment: “Well geez, if it’s that bad I might just sleep on the floor with Ali.”

Now I know it wasn’t so innocent. Now I know it was a part of Darek’s messed-up plan to make himself exist. Suffice it to say, Rob took it entirely the wrong way. The two of them got into a very heated debate. Voices were raised, feelings were hurt, and I got to watch up until the startling conclusion, where Ali ended up in a corner, sobbing and saying, “I’m in love with two people. How can that be? What do I do?”

The next confrontation happened in the front of the two houses. She was running. He was chasing. I tried to stop him, I knew it was for his own good, but he only saw me as an obstacle. He shoved me down and caught up to her, grabbing her by the wrist and spinning her around roughly. I wasn’t even aware of getting back on my feet. I only knew I was pissed.

“Hey asshole! Just leave her alone!”

Both of their eyes locked on mine and they were striding purposefully toward me.

“Mat, lower your voice.” Rob said.

“Oh, now you’re suddenly calm!? Bullshit! You were just pissed as shit and now that I am it’s not okay?”

I swear I don’t even remember what happened next. I didn’t see Ali’s hand coming at me but I guess Darek did. Next thing I knew I was in a dream state, watching from my eyes, speaking with my mouth, but only passively observing the phenomena

“Get away from me! Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!”

I ripped up clumps of grass and dirt and hurled them at her. Somehow I had ended up back on the ground. I felt a massive presence within me, something dominating my senses and creating a sort of radio interference. It overrode my disposition with a single command. Destroy… destroy… destroy…

Ali and Rob shared a look, their earlier argument forgotten. They wordlessly left me behind and strode back to the house. I sat in a daze, too stupefied by what had just happened to think. Finally I regained control of my legs. I stumbled like a zombie back to the door, only to find it locked. Though I seemed to have control of my body, my mind was still reeling with violent thoughts, homicide and suicide and everything in between. Apparently I wasn’t as in control of my body as I thought because my attempt at knocking on the door turned into a relentless hammering.

The door creaked open. “Come in. Just be quiet, please.”

I went in and fell to my knees, my fists clenched, my mind working in reverse. “Help me…”

“What do you want, Mat?” Ali asked, concerned.

“To destroy.” I answered shakily. “To hurt. To maim. To wreck. To kill.”

“Not to this house, you’re not.” Rob answered authoritatively.

I shook my head. “No.” I stuttered. “No. Not this place. Not you. Only me. Give me a knife.”

Rob pulled a switchblade from his pocket. “Casey taught me the importance of bleeding.” He assured me, offering the blade.

I took it like a beggar would snatch up food. Hungrily, without looking, I dragged the blade across my forearm. The blood leaked from the wound, staining the knife with my life’s fuel. It was like a pressure release. All I could do was break down in tears, leaving the knife beside me on the floor.

“Come on.” Ali whispered, leading me to the good bed in the next room to rest. I wrapped my shirt around the wound, savoring the dull pain.

“That… that wasn’t me….” I whispered, terrified. She let me down and smiled. She smiled at me.

“See? I knew you had one in you.”

That gave him his breath of life. That made me believe in him.

“Why…. ?” I couldn’t articulate quite yet. “Why didn’t you slap me like I asked?”

“Mat, I did.” She said. “You swatted my hand away and started freaking out worse.”

I cursed under my breath. Those words still came to me effortlessly. “S- sorry…”

“Just rest.” She whispered, kissing me on the cheek and leaving.

I believed her when she said Darek was real. I believed her because, before Ben and Mark, before Jake and Madrik, before Casey and Veronika, there was Ali and Kendra. Kendra was Ali’s Darek.

As I moved in and out of her that night in the motel, lost in passion’s embrace, it was Kendra on my mind. Kendra and her eerie calm, as if she were always in control of everything. Kendra and her beautiful words, the way she made me feel like I was the most important person in the world. Kendra who was so totally different from Ali. Kendra who I probably fell in love with without even intending to.

With a moan of pleasure she brought me to climax. Time ceased to hold meaning. Everything stopped and became immortalized in my mind. Every sensation, every perception, magnified a hundredfold. Something awoke in me in that moment, something grander, more powerful, more frightening than Darek could hope to be. I rolled over in the bed, both of us naked under the covers, a thin sheen of sweat reflected in the faint glow of light coming through the sheet over the window. I saw it in my mind. The doorway. I knew I could get back. I knew that, no matter what memory he took from me, I could always get back if I only remembered the doorway.

After I’d stopped trembling the night of Darek’s birth, I texted Casey. I told her there was something inside me, something psychopathic, sociopathic, homicidal, suicidal, a paradox walking a contradictory path inside my pacifistic mind. I asked her what to name him. Derek. She answered. Then, an afterthought. Or Darek if you want to spell it different. So it went. The girl I was in love with supplied the name for the presence the girl in love with me solidified in my mind. That’s how I was infected. That’s how the darkness planted years ago flowered into the demon I now lived with every day. Maybe it wasn’t another being controlling me. Maybe it was adrenaline and nothing more affecting me that night. The tulpa theory claims if you believe something strongly enough, it becomes real. Well I certainly believe in Darek enough for him to have a hold on me.

“What am I to you?” Ali asked beside me. I was staring up at the patterns in the ceiling.

“Right now? You’re everything I have. The only good thing in a world Darek brought crashing down around me.”

Silence.

“Ali?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m scared.” I confessed. “In a week or so I won’t be able to stay here anymore. I can’t bring myself to contact my family. They certainly haven’t tried contacting me. I don’t know where to go. So… I’m scared.”

She shifted beside me to face me. I didn’t look at her, only played games with the ceiling. “Mat, I’ve been working these past few months. You probably didn’t know that since…. you know. But. After me and Rob broke up… he kicked me, out and I got in touch with my cousin. My job is with Google Enterprises so I can do it all from a laptop wherever I am. Anyway the two of us have been splitting rent on a place a couple hours away from here. If you want…”

“Really?” I cried, surprised by the offer.

“Really.”

“Oh Ali.” I said quietly, a whisper full of desire. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

I scoffed. It was a beautiful, brilliant night.