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cutieparadox · 1 year

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OK PERSONA OC EXPLANATION BECAUSE. YES. I FINALLY FIGURED EVERYTHING OUT. UNDER THE CUT. if you saw me struggle to add a line break no you didnt.

I keep referring to my persona ocs and acting like everyone knows who they are and what I’m talking about, so, yeah here they are.

This is an original story, so this doesn’t happen during any of the games, or have any of the canon characters, this could be an alternate timeline, maybe one where the p2 timelines never split?? That’s not super important, but it does take place in sumaru city.

Or more accurately, it takes place in Yokohama! I’ll call it Sumaru City, but all of the background shots I’ll draw are just Yokohama. So.

The main cast is all based on each persona game, so for example Asuka is persona 3, so she’s blu-themed, and she's coming to terms with the limited time she has and to stop caring about other people because of it. Nana is based on persona 2 so she’s scarlet red themed and her character development is being like “yeah horrible things have happened to me, but I can decide if I become more bitter and angry because of it, or I can become a loving and supportive person instead.”, etc, etc.

So all of these people (Asuka Iwasaki, Nana Akiteru, Mikuru Saki, Ruuna Narumi, and Oka Morishita)

are childhood friends, Oka, Asuka, and Nana being the first to meet, and then Saki and Ruuna move in and meet them after, and they become INSEPARABLE like these 5 are just a package deal. They are split up between the two schools from persona 2, but they just run to the middle point once school ends to hang out anyway.

Ok so for the actual PERSONA stuff!!

In 2022, (when this story takes place), a strange phenomenon has been happening for about 4 years.

People have noticed objects or ideas from their dreams appearing in reality, but only to them. Reflections change to their fantasy self, surroundings shifting for only a moment.

Mental illness diagnosis and hospitalization have gone up tenfold, even if the patient's family history doesn’t have any listed psychosis cases. It’s baffled scientists and other researchers for years, as there seems to be no rhyme or reason to it.

More recently, a particularly extreme set of cases has started happening all over japan. People have started suddenly going into a psychotic breakdown, speaking absolute nonsense and parading through the streets, possibly hurting other people or causing property destruction. They also end up admitting things they would NEVER admit willingly while in this trance, I have this vivid idea of a married man falling victim to this, and admitting to his wife that he never actually saw her as anything other than a friend and that he only married her to ignore the fact that he was gay and in love with his best friend. This character wouldn’t be important, just an idea of what happens.

They can not be stopped unless death or stamina runs out. Eventually, they run out of energy and collapse on the spot! Just. Crumple. These patients almost always fall into a coma and die after a month or so. When they are in that coma, their brain shuts off completely. Not even essential brain waves are active, and yet, their heart still beats?? I haven’t figured that part out uh

The apparent cause has been privately researched by two scientists by the names of Lain Hayashi and Ayaka Suzuki, as well as their assistants Ami Iwasaki and Ichiro Narumi.

Ami is Asuka’s Cousin, and Ichiro is Ruuna’s older brother and legal caretaker, as well as the owner of the house they live in. Ami lives there too, her and Ichiro have been dating since they were in school.

Both of them are super cute together. I adore them. the heterosexuals ever.

The “Lab” (I haven’t thought of a name for it, probably something like project blank) came up with the theory of the “Rem cycle” phenomenon, as well as the idea of the “inside”

Only persona users can enter the inside, so out of the research team, only Ami and Ichiro can enter it.

The inside is a HUGE towering hospital with a large labyrinthine courtyard.

I’ll talk about the courtyard first, it’s like mementos essentially. Something like..” forgotten dreams are laid to rest here” so it’s overgrown and stuff. It’s actually off to the side, so it’s like. Out of the way.

The individual dreams are separated into wards. These wards are basically pockets of whatever dream the holder is having. So, for example, if someone is having a dream where they are the Prime Minister, the dream world would be that version of japan. Or if anyone had a dream about being a princess in a Victorian castle then the ward would be that area of the world, and more particularly whatever castle they would live in. Persona users are not exempt from falling victim to this. Using my last example, one of my ocs is actually like that. She is completely aware that she is in a dream, and that her real body will die. She’s able to control everything around her because of that awareness. This is exclusive to persona users. But in most cases, at least the only case I had written which is aforementioned, they have to fuse with their shadow, therefore taking its place. I haven’t worked out all the logistics of that, so come back to me on that later. I just know that fusing causes heterochromia, with one eye being their natural color, whichever one the dominant side of their handsis, and the other being the yellow that shadows are known for. It also causes incredible power shifts that can be very physically dangerous. It doesn’t however cause any split personality tropes, because the shadow is them, so there’s no battle for control type things. Hypothetically there could be if you fuse with a shadow that is not your own, but I haven’t thought about that much.

The goal of these persona users is to kill the shadow and release the holder, or in the case of the fused people, get them to relinquish control and allow the ward to crumble and for them to return to reality.

When in the inside, persona users get their own outfits. Basically the metaverse outfits or magical girl transformations. Small colors change depending on the Ward, however.

Another interesting thing, particularly skilled persona users can bend the inside to their whims, if only in certain ways. Things like weapons appearing from thin air, floating/flying, destroying different structures,etc.

Two shadows end up joining the team as well after the rest of their awakenings. They are completely safe and stuff no like. Betrayal.

They didn’t have a name so they asked the team to name them.

Shadow A ends up asking for “the prettiest cutest loveliest name you can give me” so, she got Kokorohime MajiBaton Loveha. The ultimate KiraKira bs name. Everyone calls her Hime but she insists strangers call her by her full “legal” name, much to everyone else’s dismay.

Shadow B asked for any name that didn’t sound like that. So they got Natsuro Masa. Yay! New team members get. The two move in with Ruuna and Ami and Ichiro! Ami thought they were so cute so she was fine with it, And Ichiro was too tired to care and they had an extra room anyway. He basically just said “whatever kids have fun”

Eventually, they named the team “ dream saviors” or “YumeYumis!” I just call them the saviors in my head.

Other random stuff includes:

All of the saviors' (and Ichiro and Ami's) personas are the muses from Greek mythology! Some of these are super shallow relations but uh. Ignore that it will make sense eventually!! Here is The list of personas and how they connect to the characters are:

Ami has Erato, the muse of Love poetry. She’s like dangerously in love with Ichiro, like. Girly would put her life on the line for that man. (and it’s completely mutual dw)

Ichiro has Clio, the muse of history. Uh. He’s smart! That’s it!! I kind of didn’t have any other ideas for him I’m so sorry my baby boy.

Nana has Melpomene, the muse of tragedy and chorus. Nana has gone through some stuff. Like really. I haven’t exactly decided what. But I do know it’s some STUFF. So uh. Tragedy!

Saki has Calliope, The muse of epic poetry. Saki is a hardcore theater kid. She works for a theater troupe and is their rising star!

Asuka has Euterpe, the muse of music. She’s the headliner of a metal band. Yeah. Kinda clear there.

Oka has Polyhymnia, the muse of Hymns and sacred poetry. She’s a writer. Yet again, that’s it!!

Hime has Terpsichore, the muse of dancing. Hime's inside outfit (or what she wore for her entire life before getting pulled out of the inside) was a ballerina ensemble. Yet again, super shallow, but I feel like she would like dancing anyway.

Natsuro has Urania, the muse of astronomy! She’s space themed, but like 70’s science fiction space stuff??? You know what I meant!!

Last but not least, Ruuna has Thalia, the muse of comedy. Joking and being like, high energy is her coping mechanism. And uh. Yeah. That’s it!!

You might also be asking “why don’t Ichiro and Ami go save these people themselves” because they literally can’t!!

One, they are disallowed by Lain and Ayaka to do anything outside of looking around, and killing any random shadows walking around the hallways. They also just can’t enter the wards. The saviors are the “keys” to the wards because of fate and stuff. If the two followed behind them they could, that’s actually how they found out how they are researching the rem cycle.

Anything past any of this I don’t know. Lol.

#stellas ocs #persona #the dream saviors/yumeyumi #persona 5 #persona 4 #persona 3 #persona 2 #revelations persona

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consumed-by-fandom · 11 months

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DIDude short-ish runthrough (Postal system headcanon)

So I have a more thorough in-depth timeline planned but for now I’m going to just “briefly” cover my interpretation of DIDude since I will be writing more fics abt him/them.

(DISCLAIMER: this shit subject to change now and again with how much i learn abt canon (eg haven't played P4 so its the endgoal for now). Also I don’t count Redux in this since it makes things… confusing. Idk if he’d have the same personality as P1 or not and P1 is kind of vital to the timeline so uhhhh fuck redux for now sorre. also there is a disctinction between P3 and Alt, I see P3 as Alt's source from the coma, but I don't wanna change the names rn so just do P3 = Alt for now)

Starting off with P1, the OG, he was the first alter formed and was host from childhood until the asylum. Went thru a LOT of trauma (family, religion, social issues, mental disorders) and just generally never in a good place. Paranoid as shit.

He did hear voices from a young age, but it was difficult trying to figure out if they were hallucinations, his own thoughts, or something more. At time went on one specific dry voice became more and more talkative, and this was P2. Throughout their teens he would front now and again, or influence their words, but P1 was never the wiser. He thought he’d just get super confident suddenly or he just lost track of time.

Flash forward to Postal 1, he moves out of his hometown and into Paradise, his numerous mental health problems cause him to go Postal, and P2 is forced to help him out with the rampage across town. He co-fronts a lot and takes any sadistic thoughts or feelings P1 has as his own. Some things still stick with P1 though, and show up in his diary for example. It gradually becomes more P2 than P1 in front until the ending, where P2 gets kicked from the front suddenly and P1 realises the shit he’s done and breaks down. They get sent to the asylum.

At this point P1’s mental state is so bad he just completely shuts down. P2 can’t even get a word out of him, and he realises they’re gonna be stuck here for a long time if he doesn’t take the front for himself. He pushes P1 out, but by doing so he allows P1 to become dormant. P2 becomes host and he’s alone. He gets out of the asylum, gets prescribed anti-psychotics to deal with their symptoms, and leaves the asylum after about two years. He gets a job, meets a nice girl, and builds a life for himself. He even gets a haircut. Basically he claims P1’s life as his own and tries to move on. Plural? Nahhh idk what ur talking about.

Except he still has a lot of unresolved anger issues and trauma, and he’s emotionally blunt as hell, with a tendency towards violence. Keeping a job becomes difficult, his wife turns against him, paradise just kinda sucks now. Cue Postal 2.

Smth I add during Postal 2 but isn’t like vital is he begins to see a lot of similarities of what set off P1 in the first place, and as the town gets increasingly violent he starts getting flashbacks and feels P1 returning slowly, so by friday he’s almost co-con and co-fronting and they’re both nearly fully aware of it. Also he’s just goin thru a lot of trauma in one week its a little much yknow. It’s almost nice to have each other again. But then the bitch makes P1 freak out (he has a massive realisation over going dormant for years) and P2 too tired to continue, and they make a terrible decision.

Anyway apocalypse weekend and he’s alone again, P1 basically peaces out in fear and is never seen again for a long ass time. P2 gets to deal with hallucinations again AND brain damage AND losing his shit AND more trauma, so that’s cool, he’s totally coping, yep. Nukes the town, crashes his car, 11 year coma.

When he wakes up he’s greeted by the presence of P3/Alt Dude who’s formed now. He’s what P2 wishes he was, someone able to actually take things in stride and not let things get to him instead of just repressing shit. He takes like, half his memories from that week, maybe some from the past too. But obviously someone who thinks they’re better than the host would also think they’re better than being trapped in this body/head. His disappearance fucking convolutes everything so I’m just going to say that either P2 just hallucinates P3 having a physical form (bullet in the head) and its P3 fronting and doing all this shit, or he does indeed gets a swanky new physical form and just fucking takes those crucial memories. Which makes OD’s role a little harder in the upcoming years. Hmm.

Anyway paradise lost happens and P2’s on the road dealing with the fact he’s older than he is mentally (smth I’ll talk about in another post). During these years of fuck all happening, P1 eventually returns and the two spend a lot of time going through their trauma and sorting their past out, working with each other to survive, try and earn money etc. they get super close and both agree they wanna try and be less violent and more of an everyman, and also that they’d finally be okay being just one identity. It takes a couple of years, but eventually they fuse to form The Dude.

(If we’re going with P3 also sticking around, he takes much longer to come to because he likes being himself and he likes being his own guy and becomes sort of attached to the other two & The Dude when they fuse. He agrees eventually on premise that a) TD would be finally be accepting himself and b) they’d be OP combined. So yeah)

Unfortunately The Dude immediately realises there’s still a ton of violence and anger inside him (as well as repression) and he doesn’t know how to deal with that still, so in fear he splits off another alter, Other Dude, who (in a fit of extreme rage over finding out he exists) goes deep into the headspace and leaves TD wondering what the fuck happened. But he’s calmer now so whatever lol.

Brain Damaged happens, his dream is one long horrible trip into his inner world created by OD in this big plan, and TD finally confronts him. They fight, OD explains how he’s everything TD has tried to repress through every alter, every taken memory, every built persona, and even when fused he still couldn’t handle that part of himself, the part that held all his trauma, so he’s fucking pissed off and he WILL do anything it takes to get it through his head. TD just goes “yeah no” and shoots him, but instead of just like… killing OD, it’s a form of dormancy, and he fucks off for like about a year.

Again, eventually OD returns after an amount of time and tries to get TD to accept his past and his flaws again. Thing is, TD is just realising how old he is and just… doesn’t wanna fight it all anymore, almost. Takes a LOT of yelling and arguing, but eventually TD goes “FINE i accept you you are me” and OD’s like “oh shit fr? Cmere man” and they’re buddy buddy (gradually) and eventually decide to fuse once and for all, no more hiding from the past, no more hiding from himself, accepting complete responsibility and vying for change.

And then drumroll… P4! Which is the final fusion of the Dudes, he’s old, he’s tired, but mentally? Yeah he’s doing alright. Will still cause a shit ton of chaos but like, he’s totally mellow and can process the shit thrown at him now. And best of all, he accepts himself for everything he is. Happy ending :)

Now there are possible timelines, like if P3 leaves Dude has to deal with memories and parts of himself he’ll never get back, and if P2 is a pacifist he could split OD early and then all four of them get to deal with each other, maybe go for a life as a system end goal. But the one above is like pretty much my interpretation. Final fusion also just seems like the choice they would take in their later life, although functional multiplicity probably comes first.

Now take that and make it longer and that's gonna be my in depth runthrough lmao that one will be in parts so uh... stick around if you wanna see that ig.

#postal #postal dude #DIDude #I dare not tag all the games fuck that #VERY LONG RAMBLING #headcanon/au

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cinnamonest · 3 years

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Kaeya Alberich - Yandere Profile

YES I love my eyepatch boy!! I really like him as a yandere, because he's definitely got several traits and behaviors that would make him a very unconventional/different yet absolutely terrifying one to have. Him or Diluc as your yandere is basically like playing a game on maximum difficulty. He's so arrogant dammit why does he have to make it hot

More importantly, someone take the ability to write n/sfw away from me I s2g... I go from trying to make serious content to nasty weird kinks and completely feral in .002 seconds the moment I add that readmore

tws: gaslighting, manipulation, yandere, mentions of mutilation

tws (below cut): noncon, a good deal of sadism, mentions of an*l

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What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

He's actually one of the worst yanderes you could have in almost every regard, for two very simple reasons: his crippling psychological issues, and his intense selfishness. The first manifests as severe abandonment issues. It's the origin of his unhealthy feelings, most likely. Kaeya doesn't like the instability of people - based on his backstory, people always leave, or die, and even if they don't intend to, somehow it feels like abandonment, and he resents it. People leave him all alone and afraid and uncertain. That's generally all he knows, and despite the smug exterior, he's actually pushed people away quite a bit, keeps everyone at arm's length to ensure they can't become someone too important for him to accept their sudden absence. He can't care about someone, because that someone is fated to inevitably leave him, no matter who it may be.

That's why, once you manage to worm your way into his feelings and heart despite his best efforts, once he finally caves to acknowledging the feeling, he's aware. Painfully aware, because be can't stop worrying every waking moment about you, your well-being, your location. It reaches a point where he can't go about his job because he's simply too consumed with his worry.

The solution that kept him safest in the past was to avoid developing emotional attachments, but when he does, he's terrified of both your safety AND you intentionally abandoning him. Really, the latter would hurt worse, since he can't fault you for dying, but to abandon him? It would break him.

And, to some extent, he's developed a lot of prideful anger about it, deep, deep down. He feels that he doesn't deserve to be abandoned, doesn't deserve to just be left behind under the guise of some greater purpose, and he'll be damned if he just lets you toss him aside like he feels others did. Even if you reject him, he won't accept it. You don't get to reject him. He won't allow that. What has he ever done to deserve everything that's happened to him? Nothing. You're the one person who has stayed with him, and you're going to continue to be with him. Forever.

That being said, he's still somewhat confident because he's got that arrogance about him. He doesn't perceive rejection, because he's always gotten a lot of attention for his looks, even if he's never actually followed through on anyone else's attention out of those same fears. He'll write off any perceived rejection as being for some other reason, something besides an actual rejection, and he'll seek to eliminate whatever he feels is keeping you from just accepting him.

Honestly, one of the most likely to have a full blown, classic-yandere-style psychotic breakdown. He can be driven to a snapping point, if there's enough stress or obstacles, and in case of that, he'll be a lot more willing to kill, and a lot more willing to hurt you, but it's a point that would still take a lot to reach.

But what's really terrifying about Kaeya is his delusions, primarily his ability to mentally justify everything he does without hesitation. Even most delusional yanderes struggle - they feel like it's wrong, they know it is deep down, and they take time to convince themselves of their delusions, tell themselves it's ok over and over, beg for reassurance, and get defensive when called out because they know they're in the wrong. The same isn't true for Kaeya. He automatically justifies his actions by default, and has absolutely zero doubt or hesitation to do so. He doesn't even need a complex reason for justification - it's a simple one. He deserves what he wants. Anything necessary to achieve that is fair.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Highly likely and very quickly, right up there with Diluc and Razor. And he's absolutely remorseless about it. It ties back into his delusional state and ability to justify anything he does - this is what's best for you. If you don't get that, that's your problem, not his.

He's another one to not want to pull some barbaric move like knocking you out, rather, he'd rather just trick you into walking right into your new home. He gets that you'll be upset about it, but to him, that's just part of the process. Not that he'll tolerate it for too long. 12, maybe 24 hours is enough time for you to reasonably be upset, but if you're still trying to fight him on this after that, he's going to get snappy about it, thinking you should already be over that by now.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

You're not leaving.

It's not worth trying, really. How he manages to do it is a mystery to you, but he'll manage to keep you locked in right there at the headquarters with him. How Jean and Lisa haven't found out about you being there, how he convinced all of his guards to be on his side of things, you have no idea. Realistically, if you get out, he's likely to make you out to be some kind of criminal that needs to be found -- just not to hurt you in any way, so goes the order, and the knights know better than to question why.

He has eyes and ears everywhere, it won't take them anytime at all to find you. He's so confident in that, and combined with his pride, he doesn't feel the need to go get you himself. No, it's a lot more satisfying to sit back and watch as they drag you through the doors of the headquarters, slowly pull you to the end of the room and drop you down at his feet, where he can look down on you with that closed-eyed, artificially wide smile that tells you that you have seriously fucked up.

Escape attempts aren't going to be met with a single shred of mercy, really. The thing about Kaeya is he's ultimately a selfish, selfish bastard with a lot of deep-seeded, highly repressed emotional issues, and he has absolutely no problem with keeping you bound hand and foot, or maybe even make some permanent modifications to your body if that's what it takes to keep you. It's not a wise idea to even try unless you're absolutely certain to succeed, otherwise you may find yourself never getting the opportunity again. You don't really need those Achilles tendons intact, you know. And your ankle bones are just so fragile, they'll snap with just a little twist. Actually, that wouldn't be too bad, giving you more reasons to be grateful when he's doing everything for you.

He's not one to just let it go, either. No, escape attempts are the one unforgivable thing for him, the one thing that will make him totally and completely snap. You don't get to do that. You're the one thing that doesn't get to just disappear out of his life in a flash. Half the reason he sends the knights to get you rather than going himself is to give him some time to let the rage settle down, otherwise he knows he might not be able to control himself and might end up hurting you even worse than he intends to. He's not going to buy any excuses and won't go any lighter on you if you beg and grovel or anything. But you will apologize -- you get to choose how hard it is. You can apologize the easy way, or, if you don't want to, there are many ways to force it out. But by the end, he'll get an apology, and a promise to never try again, out of you, no matter what that takes. It's by far the worst state you'll ever see him in, and really, once is enough to dissuade you from trying again.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

You'd have to try pretty hard. He doesn't have the sheer amount of years of life experience like Venti or Zhongli, but he's not the captain for no reason - he's perceptive, and highly intelligent.

Rather than simply mastering reading human voice and facial expressions for telltale signs of deceit, he's good at learning individuals in particular - memorizing the patterns of thought and action of a particular individual, and predicting how they will act. He can do it with everyone else with ease, how much more, then, with the object of an obsession? If you're trying to formulate some plan to trick him, he'll already predict what you'll do, if you lie, he already knows. It's creepier than the others, really, because it's not just that he can tell when you're lying, but rather he already knows you're going to lie or try some scheme before you do it. It feels so tailored and personalized to your thought patterns, it almost feels like an invasion of the privacy of your mind, which, really, is the one privacy you thought you had left.

He's great at gaslighting himself, too. He's a very good liar, and can make you believe anything he wants. He'll target your fears and paranoias, make you believe you're going crazy, and he'll do it all so perfectly you'll never suspect a thing. You'll end up coming to him for protection and guidance, exactly as planned.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Pretty strict. He doesn't let you have any outside contact, and you're limited on what you can do when he's gone. He'll bring you some books, maybe something to draw on -- no sharp writing utensils, though. In his mind, that should be enough to occupy you.

You won't get outside walks or visits. It's just too risky for him, and he really doesn't like seeing other people look at you. If you really, really beg, and you've been on amazing behavior, and you're well into your relationship, maybe a few months or so, there's a chance he'll take you out at nighttime, or sunrise, but at the slightest sign of intentions he doesn't like, you'll be dragged back, and you won't see the sun for a long time.

You'll have a very limited wardrobe, he doesn't see why you even need to wear anything, but if you're going to be stubborn, he can get you something simple, like an old shirt and some underwear, but that's about all you can have. Any requests for actual clothing are going to be denied. It's ridiculous for him to spend money on something you don't need, and besides, he prefers it this way, y'know?

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Generally, it's a simple one: obey. You do what he tells you to do, and you don't do something if he tells you not to. This stems to similar rules that develop: be submissive, don't be argumentative, don't be defiant. Follow those, and you can both be happy, and that's what you want, isn't it? It had better be - he's not very lenient, and will harshly punish even small offenses. As for that punishment... most of it isn't going to be sfw. That's just how he is.

What he will do is emotionally manipulate you, and he's rather good at it. You wanted to escape? Ok. He'll let you have your way, let you be alone. All alone. All by yourself, in a little room, with no one at all, which is exactly how you would have left him, had you succeeded. He knows very well how that kind of loneliness bites. He's not totally cruel, though, and he won't withhold affection from you by the time he returns -- he doesn't need to, you'll already be crying and apologizing, which is exactly what he hoped for. Not that he won't briefly mock you for it.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're crying like that because you actually missed me. Oh, you did? Being all alone isn't particularly fun, now is it? I'm sure you understand that now."

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Kaeya's an insanely jealous person. It doesn't show on his face, but it eats at him internally. It doesn't matter if it's a love interest, a platonic friend, even a family member. It's all the same -- people who want to take your attention away from him, people who you smile at that aren't him, people you love that aren't him. He's not one to delude himself into thinking everyone secretly loves you romantically, rather, it doesn't matter. Romantic interests are the worst threat, sure, but friends and family aren't much better.

He sees himself as above killing, though. He has people to do that for him, and he likes knowing that he has that much power. He's not going to dirty his hands with it, and frankly, they're not even worthy of his time and effort to kill them. Knights and other connections can take care of it just as well.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

As somewhat previously discussed, the primary form of making him mad is attempting an escape. That's on a whole new level of anger because it strikes at a very deep, wounding insecurity. On a normal day, though, he's more easily exasperated than angry. He gets frustrated somewhat easily, especially if you're trying exceptionally hard to be a brat. He has very clear warning signs. His signature little smirk drops, he gets quiet, he balls his hands into fists and digs his fingernails into his palms. At that stage, he's irritable and might snap at you, but won't get too angry until you ignore those signs and push it.

If you do push him, though, he gets genuinely mad, which is a very quiet anger at first -- he doesn't talk much when he's mad. He acts. You'll know he's snapped when he puts down whatever he's doing, and just silently stomps over to you, face completely empty and flat, looking down at you with a cold expression. It's enough to put fear in you, but at that point, even if you apologize, you're not getting out of whatever he's planned.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Strongly in the "below" camp, a rather unusual stance for a yandere. Like many things with him, there's an inexplicable duality going on there. You would think that if you loved someone so strongly you'd kidnap them, kill for them, and potentially suffer consequences just to have them, that you would really think highly of them. On the flip side, you would think that if you really saw someone as lowly, you wouldn't care for them, you'd see them as disposable.

But neither is true for Kaeya, no, he balances both obsessive love and complete narcissism regarding you. You're not disposable, no, he can't live without you, he needs you. But at the same time, you're not gonna be on any kind of pedestal. No, if anything, he sees himself on one, more like a throne, and you on the floor before him, how things should be.

He has a similar mindset to Zhongli or Albedo - you're fragile, you're dumb, you're incapable, and you need someone to care for you, protect you, guide you, someone who knows what's best for you, since you clearly don't. However, he's lacking in the attitude those other two have -- there's no seeing you as an angel here. There's no viewing himself as being absolutely honored to take care of you, or viewing protecting and caring for you as some kind of privilege that they're blessed to do, the way those two do.

No, as much as he loves those things, he'll never admit it, not even to himself really. Rather, his mentality is that you should be grateful. Here he is, a very highly respected, accomplished, capable person, and you...? You have what to offer, exactly? That's right, nothing, really, only cuteness and obedience, the latter of which you refuse to give him even though you really ought to. He's taking on the burden of making sure you don't get yourself killed, and how do you repay him? By getting mad about it, throwing a fit like some little kid? He puts up with your tantrums, which are really undeserved, by the way. He puts up with your disobedience and repeated rule violations, your sheer determination to defy him when he's going out of his way to do what's best for you.

One day, he thinks, you'll mature a little bit and understand why he does what he does, and when you do, you'll come groveling and sniffling about how sorry you are, how you'll never defy him again, how you'll be good and obedient from now on, and he'll love every second of it. He looks forward to that day quite a bit.

"Sigh... you know, you're pretty lucky I love you so much. You could stand to show me a little thanks, don't you think?"

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He's strongly determined, and yet... doesn't do much to try. It goes back to his mindset that really, you're the one who should be grateful for him, and eventually, you will love him. He's not gonna grovel to you or try different ways of making you love him, no, he's far too proud for that. But he's a smart man. He knows the effects that complete and total isolation other than one other person can have on someone. He's just going to sit back and wait for that effect to kick in, and slowly watch your fragile little mind deteriorate until you're desperate for affection. At which point, well, he can use it against you.

"You were so mean to me before, weren't you? You fought me every step of the way, and now you're just going to turn around and act like that didn't happen...? Well, if you're really sorry, I'll forgive you. But how am I supposed to believe you really are...? Maybe you can think of a way to prove it, hm?"

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Probably the severity of his degradation. As aforementioned, most yanderes, even the more confident or cocky individuals, either worship the ground their beloved walks on and sees themselves as beneath them, OR sees their darling as some sort of fragile, angelic being, and they are simply a protector or caretaker to that being.

It's a bit different with him, ever the narcissist. It's a strange duality born out of a rare mix of neediness, obsession, and pride. You're more like a toy, or a pet - an invaluable pet that he could never part with, but a pet nonetheless. He certainly looks down on you more than the average yandere - he mentally associates you as naive, fragile, even dumb like a lot of the aforementioned protector/caretaker types, but without the reverence to make up for it.

It's a bizarre duality that not even he fully understands - don't think for a moment that that means he'll ever tire of you, or view you as disposable. No, he's actually one of the most obsessive ones, yet very demanding of attention and praise, rather than giving it.

He frequently tests you - things like leaving the door unlocked, waiting outside just to see if you'll try it. Seeing you open that door, watching your face go from ecstatic excitement and drop to wide-eyed terror, it's priceless.

"My, my, you didn't waste any time at all, did you? Why do you look so surprised...? You should know I wouldn't slip up that badly."

Pet names, but in the most infuriatingly condescending way, and uses them more often when he's mad and trying to warn you that you're pushing his limits. Particularly fond of "sweetheart," especially with a low warning tone and clenched teeth.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Horny fucker, all the way. The man has a lot of stress and frustration in his life already, that much more if you're... less than compliant with your new lifestyle. Sex, especially rough and hard, is a fantastic stress reliever.

Very little reservation. He's not crude about it, but he tends to make subtle innuendos very frequently, and laughs at your embarrassed reactions. Definitely the type to pull the whole shtick in which he says something with a blatant sexual undertone, then elaborates in a way to make it sound like having meant something else, follows with that smirk and says, "Why? What did you think I meant?" It's something he really enjoys doing, and loves to get embarrassed reactions out of people, particularly yourself.

"Touchy" doesn't begin to describe it. Pretty much from the moment you meet him, he's got his hands somewhere on your person. He grabs your shoulders when he stands behind you, he wraps an arm around you from the side when he walks up to you, he's always pressing his hands on your back and sides whenever you're navigating the streets, walking through doorways, wraps an arm around your waist when sitting next to you. It's highly uncomfortable, but really, he's just got something very subtly, but very strongly intimidating about him. You almost don't want to confront him on it. If you do, he'll laugh it off, and stop -- for maybe 48 hours or so, and then he'll be right back at it.

To the surprise of, well, everyone who's ever met him, he doesn't actually live up to the rumors of having been around the block, so to speak. His experience is actually little to none - that kinda happens when you push everyone around you away. Not that he'd ever let you know that, of course, and will probably lie if asked, but you can gleam a little bit of truth from slightly awkward movements and a bit of noticeable shakiness.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Kind of like Razor, the issue is that he loves you, and what better way is there of expressing love? He's not much for gift-giving or words of affirmation - no, he's a lot better with words of degradation, it comes more naturally to him. And he's certainly not one to enjoy acts of service -- well, not doing them, he'll gladly take them as a sign of your love, though. No, he expresses love through touch. It's like how, when you hug someone you really love, someone you missed, you squeeze them extra tight - the love manifests as a physical urge for some strong expression. Humans are physical about their emotions -- we punch walls when we're mad, we jump up and down when we're happy, and when you love someone, sometimes you just really, really want to pound them into a mattress as hard as physically possible. That's normal. That, and really, he's got his vices. He's actually fairly weak when it comes to resisting temptations, and prone to give in to urges for physical sensations like drunkenness and sex.

Is another one to be convinced that, with time, you'll come around. And is absolutely the top candidate to be one for using your own body against you - if you get wet, if you whimper, if you cum, that's just proof that you really do want this, that you're just being difficult because you enjoy being a brat, and he'll be sure to tell you that.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

This is nearly indistinguishable from punishment, sadistic bastard

D/S dynamics

Arrogant fucker wants to be served and worshipped, you could see it coming from a mile away. Anything that puts you beneath him is going to make him happy - anything where you're where you're supposed to be. There's a lot of options, but it doesn't really matter, as long as he feels like he's in control and ownership of you in some way, and as long as you act accordingly.

He wants it to be something that’s not just for sex, but rather, he’ll end up carrying it over into normal life, whether you like it or not. If you just went along with it in hopes of getting it over with once he cums, you’re going to be in for a treat when it starts to carry over. He gets a little too used to being worshipped, and decides he likes that submissive attitude on you enough to want to see it all the time.

Petplay/Collaring

It really helps that he sees you as something of a pet already, but really, the collar is the selling point. Even if you never go outside, there's something unbearably hot about the possessiveness of it all - really, it's there to remind you of your status as property. He wants to own you, and for you to be forced to acknowledge that he owns you, and there's really no better way to do that than something with his name on it. It's even better with a leash, one he can pull on when he's fucking you to pull you back onto him over, and over, and over, hearing it choke you the more he shortens it.

But really, having you crawl towards him on all fours and obey little commands so simple they're humiliating is pretty nice, too.

Impact pain/painplay

There's really nothing quite so powerful feeling as watching you cry and squirm from it, y'know? He's another one that just likes the marks his hands, belts, or anything else can leave all over the skin of your ass and the back of your legs. The thing with him, though, is it's not even always a punishment, he just does it for fun, and that makes it unpredictable. Will definitely make you count, it's a sadistic torture for your mind and body.

Throatfucking

May be used as a punishment measure, may just be because he's craving it, either way, even if you have a gag reflex, you won't for very long. He'll train it out of you gradually, grabbing the back of your head and just slamming all the way down into your throat, holding you there, making you choke - it's a beautiful sound, really, listening to you gag, all while your throat spasms around him, it's the best feeling, really, and will definitely be used as a threat if you need incentives to behave.

Choking

Ties into the dynamics, but really, there’s not much to say on this one. He likes the power trip from having his hands wrapped around your throat, seeing you struggle, watching your face go red, hearing those little choking noises. It puts power over you into his hands, and if you get pleasure from it against your own will, that’s even better.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

Absolutely one of the ones to use it as a tool. If you have a baby, you'll be so much more bound to him. You'll need him more, you'll want him around more, you'll be much less likely to leave, and in a way it feels a little bit like a sign of ownership over you.

That being said, he's also acutely aware of his jealous tendencies, and realizes he would also be very likely to become jealous if he felt like you loved a baby more than him, or gave it more attention and affection than you do him. He doesn't like the thought.

So ultimately, the latter side prevents him from willingly trying, but if you really, really have defiance issues even after he's tried everything he can to break you help you adjust, he might consider it.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

If it's mild enough, he can just take the route of extremely rough fucking - it gets rid of the frustration, he likes hearing you whimper and squeal, and he can leave lots of little bruises as reminders of what not to do in the future.

But, again, he already gets off to putting you in pain - it'll be that much worse when you've done something to deserve it. Harder hits, no mercy whatsoever, and he just loves all your little cries, wiping away your tears and smiling at you, right before bringing down whatever instrument of pain he's chosen again. If you really, really make him mad, and he really wants to make you cry, he's not above fucking your ass, either, watching you cry and beg, but you'll learn with time that begging doesn't ever get you out of anything.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Definitely an ass man. Likes fucking you in doggy, seeing the ripple every time you bounce back off of him, pulling your hair or arms to add some force. He likes seeing all the little red marks that his hands and belts and anything else will leave on the skin, views it like marks of possession. Grabbing, beating, fucking, it's all good.

#Jesus take the wheel im too nasty for this #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere kaeya #tw: dark content #tw: noncon #tw: non/con

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sadselfhelp · 3 years

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Who I Am, And Why I Created This Blog.

TRIGGER WARNINGS - Mental Illness, Self-Harm, Child Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Violence, Drug Overdose, Suicide, Psychotic Breaks.

Take a walk with me, let me show you around the mind of The Sad Hatter.

There's a lot going on in my head right now, and I feel like I'm on the precipice of something. I'm standing on a cliff's edge and I'm either going to plummet or I'm going to fly. It's been building inside me for a long time, and I can't contain it anymore. So here it is, here's me laid bare, because I need to say this, I need to put it into words. I need to purge it all. To try and make sense of all of this shit in my brain, I think it's time I organize it. I don't know where to begin, but I guess I start at the beginning and make use of the ability to edit.

Before you read this, please be aware of the trigger warnings. And please understand that this is the most honest and open I have been, I really am stripped bare in this piece of writing. It’s not at all pretty, and am I not guiltless in parts. This may well alter whatever opinion you have of me.

I guess the beginning is birth, right? But I don't want to rehash all that trauma, so let me speed through it. Twenty-Eight years ago I was born, violently. I'm serious, I ripped my way out of the womb, and tore that thing apart. I guess I can sort of understand why my mother couldn't love me after that was my first act, collapsing her womb. So let me speedrun this part of the story. Mum didn't want me, gave me to my dad who raised me as a single parent with the help of his parents, until he met my stepmother. Shockingly, she didn't want me either, but because she couldn't get rid of me she decided to physical and psychological torture was the next best thing.

When I was eleven years old I snapped and didn't want to put up with it anymore, so I wrote a goodbye note and then snuck into the medicine cabinet and took a bunch of pills. Spoiler alert, I didn't die. I did however end up in a children's home, cue more abuse, little bit of bullying and sexual assault etc.... I snapped again, but instead of turning my anger inwards, I became an absolute bastard. Ok, I still turned it inwards a bit, I had a lot of anger, and now I have a few hundred scars to prove it. But, it turns out that violence can beget violence, and I acted out in every possible way. Racked up a horrifying rap sheet, assault, vandalism, arson, and finally... GBH. I was supposed to get put in a secure unit (child prison – Scottish Edition) but I was always able to talk myself out of trouble.

See, I was this tiny little white girl with big sad eyes and a hell of a sob story, even at the bottom of the food chain I still had privilege. So instead of getting locked up, I just got sent to a different home. And here's the really messed up part, this home was better. The staff were nicer, and nobody hurt me. My behavior literally changed overnight. I went from being charged by the police on a weekly basis, to never getting so much as a pocket money sanction. I will never excuse my actions, nor condone them, but after years of guilt I finally realized that the bad things I did were in retaliation to a bad situation, and though I wasn’t acting like a good person, I’m not a bad person, just a messed up one.

I still refused to go to school though, because though I didn't yet know it at the time, I had severe social anxiety. I was smart, a little too smart to be honest, and I found myself thriving with a private tutor. When the time came to sit my exams, someone fucked up, and despite having record breaking test scores on the pre-exams, I never actually got to sit my standard grades (think SAT's – Scottish Edition). I'm still bitter about that. So by this point in the story, I'm 16, and legally an adult, too old for a children's home. I got turfed to a hostel, and the next few parts of the story are pretty fuzzy to me.

This is where my mental health really started to deteriorate. I bounced between homeless hostels and B&B's for a year or so, until I got a my first flat/apartment. By that point, I was utterly fucked in the head. I was blacking out frequently, for anywhere between a couple of minutes to three days. I would come back to myself in sometimes compromising positions, and once there was blood. A lot of blood, splashed all over the walls. Then there was the time I suddenly found myself standing in the kitchen, about to plunge a knife into my own chest.

Nobody ever did tell me what the hell that was about. Or maybe they did and I just... forgot? But because I was extremely suicidal, a doctor finally decided to do something, and the police and the paramedics came to my door to take me to the psychiatric hospital. I spent ten months there while I cycled through various anti-psychotics and anti-depressants, and was 'rehabilitated into society'. The second I was out, I made the worst decision I have ever made in my life. If I can give you one piece of advice, one lesson to take from my shitshow of a life, it's this: Don't move hundreds of miles away to be with the guy you met online while you were having a psychotic break.

I've never really thought of myself as a victim, but I guess I'm the only one who saw it that way. Ben, that was his name, Ben was a monster, and I didn't know it until it was too late. He never hit me, never lifted a hand to me, he never had to. He could put a knife in my hand and make me hurt myself for his entertainment. I had told him everything, so he knew exactly how to break me down, how to make me want to bleed. He locked me in a house and used me up. And when I had enough, and tried to break free of him, he would just tell the police I was mentally ill and they would smile sympathetically and give me back to him.

But then my dad had a breakdown. My dad, who when he found out what my stepmother was doing to me, buried his head in the sand and packed my little suitcase for me. I hadn't spoken to him in a while until he reached out from the same psychiatric ward I had not long vacated. He had cracked under the realization that I had never lied about her, and the guilt broke him apart. I could have hated him, if it had happened a few years earlier then I would have. But I had experienced enough of the world to learn a few things, like how easily it is to fuck up, and that no matter how strong you are, you aren't immune to monsters. The truth was he was as much a victim of her evil as I was. She had manipulated him, played with his head, used his insecurities against him. So I helped him through his issues, the way I wished someone had helped me. That doesn't really make me a good person, it just makes me human.

But my dad got better, and found his footing. And when he did, he realized something wasn't right with me, and I told him the truth about Ben. My dad had left me to suffer at the hands of an abuser once before, and he wasn't going to allow it to happen again. He came and got me, and he took me home. He moved me in with him, gave me his bed and slept on the couch. After a couple of months, he helped me get my own place.

And that's the happy ending, right? All the trauma was over, I was safe, that's where the story should end. Right? I bet you're not naive enough to believe that, but I sure as hell was. I thought I would recover and that everything would be ok. I thought that with safety, there would come the chance to heal. I thought my wounds would scab over, and I would have my scars but at least I would be able to move without bleeding out. But that's not how trauma works. I had two decades worth of trauma, abuse, and hell.

I just... faded. I didn't crack, I didn't crumble, I didn't break, I just stopped. For five years I sat in one room of my home, drowning inside myself. Last year I got handed a lifeline, and now I live somewhere better. I'm not really allowed to live independently so I actually live in kind of retirement village of all places. I have my own house, but it's got intercoms and emergency cords everywhere, I get checked on daily by on on-site worker. And I'm trying to get better, I really am. It's just not that easy.

There's more to the whole story that I maybe should have put in, like the fact that my mother was a drug addict when she was pregnant with me, and that may have been the reason some of my organs didn't properly form and/or formed wrong. My lung split in half when I was a baby, and parts of my stomach are missing. Or that my mother is full on batshit insane. I could have had a perfect childhood and I still would have been mentally ill. Hell, I was seeing psychologists at five years old. Take my sketchy genetics, add twenty years of severe traumas, and well... I'm a little fucked up. Because a lot of medical conditions use acronyms, my full list of diagnosis looks like I'm collecting the fucking alphabet.

I have Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), and Agoraphobia. I also have a Pulmonary Sequestration, Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia, the stomach and lung issues. Immune Hemolytic Anemia, I'm basically allergic to my own blood. Plus, ya know, my liver recently decided to just fucking nope out, the pissy lil bitch is failing. I also may or may not have cancer, I don't know because I pussied out of the tests. At this point I am a walking, decaying corpse that is held together by glitter glue and bitterness.

So... why exactly am I writing this? And why am I even considering posting this? I mean, my problems aren't as bad as some other people's. We've all got shit to deal with, especially in 2020. The whole world is falling apart, so what right do I have to sit here pouting and pouring my problems out? Well, for a start, I guess this is my blog, I can post whatever, and it's up to everyone else if they read it.

So here it is, you have the backstory, so here's what it's all been leading up to.

I'm struggling. Like, really struggling. I'm stuck on this cliff, and I want off, any way I can. Whether I fall or fly, I just want free. I can't live like this anymore, because I can't breathe.

The fucking agonizing duality of being socially anxious and too easily overstimulated, and yet feeling fucking empty inside if you're not surrounded by action and noise. The world is too noisy for my brain, but my brain is too noisy for the world. I get antsy if I'm not doing at least a thousand different tasks, but I get overwhelmed if I try to do anything at all. It leads to short bursts of mania, followed by weeks of depression. But underneath all of that, under all the dramatic showboating, and the dark humor, under all the bravado... I'm really just sad.

Years ago, when I first came up with the moniker "The Sad Hatter", I said it was because I may be mad, but my madness was born of sadness. I'm just sad. I carry it with me where my heart should be. So I named myself Sad, and I put on the hat, and I wore my sadness like armor, turned it into an act, and made a spectacle of it. "I'm The Sad Hatter, and I'm mentally ill but that's alright, I'm going to be just fine!" I told you all I had my issues, and I'll come close to opening up about how bad those issues are, I'll give little chunks of information at intermittent intervals, and then two hours later I'll act like it never happened. I'll admit I was close to killing myself, and then two days later I'll post dog photo's and act like I'm all better.

I'm writing this because I'm sad. And tomorrow, I'll act like I'm not. But when I waver again, I'll come back here and I'll open up again. And along the way, maybe you're reading this and realizing you aren't alone in feeling overwhelmed. Maybe you're realizing you're not the only one who isn't healing neatly and in a timely manner. Maybe you're reading this and gaining some insight into the struggles someone you care about is facing. Maybe my opening up is can help somebody else, I really hope so, but I know it's helping one person. It's helping me.

This blog, it's about living with myself. It's about living with The Sad Hatter.

#trigger warnings #mental health #anxiety #borderline personality disorder #adhd #domestic abuse #child abuse #self harm #violence #just all the trigger warnings

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musictrash0426 · 3 years

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Killing Stalking

My name is Elizabeth Stevens, I’m 17 and it is one month until my senior year of highschool. Most of my friends are going crazy trying to plan out their futures. However, unlike my peers, I've known what I've wanted to be since I was 13. I want to be an artist, my parents fully support my decision which is nice. They have bought me plenty of professional quality supplies since my 14th birthday when they saw all the hard work I put into my art. I've even started selling prints of my work on Redbubble. I also have quite the following

Overall I live in a pretty good neighbourhood. It has great people, including my best friend Kai who lives a few streets over. My family and I live in a pretty large house. It has three floors which is a little big if you ask me. There are only the three of us living here, me, mom and dad. But with that being said my parents gave me the entire basement on my 13th birthday. They also helped me set up every room down here the way I want. Not much has changed, even after being down here for four years..

When you come down the stairs you are greeted with my lounge area. Where we have a couch, tv, game system, large bookshelf and some other things. Next we have my room where I have a fairly minimal look. I have a large bed, large dresser, a walk in closet, and my vanity where I do my makeup. The next room is probably my favourite; it's my art studio. Like I said my parents have supported me over the years so I have a lot of supplies. Honestly I couldn't be more grateful for them and everything they’ve given me. I have a full easel, desk, and a lot of supplies, markers, colour pencils, paint (water, acrylic, oils), alongside my new drawing tablet.

This morning when I got up, I went to my art room and started sketching. I've gotten into this habit as it helps me get into a creative mindset, along with getting into drawing for the day. Once I stop doodling I start to make a list of the things of supplies I had recently run out of.

As I was about to leave, I asked my parents if they needed anything. My mom told me to get her a drink from Starbucks on my way home as she knows I’m planning on going there anyways.

I get into my car and drive to the art store. Luckily this store is only 10 minutes from my house. I walk into the store and look for the supplies on my list. While going through the store, grabbing the things I needed, I decided I also wanted to try out a new paint while I was here. I got some winsor and newton acrylics in red, blue,yellow, sienna, black and white along with some mixing pallets. I also got a canvas as I want to make a large painting later.

My mom texted me asking if I could pick up milk and eggs. So I ran into the supermarket and picked up the few things she wanted. I then went to starbucks, got both my parents, and myself a few drinks, and went home.

I got out of my car balancing shopping bags on my arm,the drinks in my hand and I went inside. I put the milk and eggs in the fridge, gave my parents their drinks and made my way down to my art room to put my supplies away. I started brainstorming ideas of what I want to paint and I finally came up with a concept I liked. I open my sketchbook and I start to draw the rough copy of the picture before blowing it up on the canvas and painting it. While I am drawing out the picture I'm watching lavendertowne’s creepypastas series as it's one of my favourites on youtube.

In my concentration, I lose track of time, and before I know it it’s 4:30 pm. My mom walks to my art room saying her and dad are going on a trip for the next week. So I get the house to myself, which is cool. I've been home alone before. “Elle, you can have Kai over to stay for the week if you want.” mom said. “Also I transferred some money into your account so you and Kai can just order some food if you guys get hungry.”

“Thanks mom,” I say “ I love you.”

“Love you too sweetie.”

I walk upstairs with mom as her and dad are about to leave. I hug them goodbye and tell them to have a safe trip.

I decide to take mom up with her offer and invite Kai over for the week. Lately I haven't been wanting to be home alone. So I called him and he said he’d be over in 10 minutes.

I grab a glass of water and wait, before I knew it there was a knock on my door and it was Kai. I give him a hug and he smiles.

“It’s like we haven't seen each other in a while.” Kai teases me. We saw each other yesterday and I called him late last night because I just wanted to talk to someone.

Kai has literally been my best friend since we were both in diapers. Our moms grew up together so it was bound to happen that we would too. He’s my biggest support system, he’s one of the only people who know how I got into art. I watched a lot of anime growing up, I still do, and the art style is what got me into wanting to be an artist.

“Have you started a new piece yet?” Kai asked

“Yeah I have! And I just finished the rough copy” I say.

“Can I watch you work on it?”

“Of course you can silly,” I say with a grin. I show Kai the canvas to let him gauge what I’ve been working on.

“It looks really good!” But his face saddens a little bit. “Are you doing alright?” I give him a confused look. “You tend to draw horror pieces when you're trying to get yourself into a better place.”

Horror pieces are my favourite to draw. I don't have an explanation for it, but I've always liked them. Maybe it's because I loved horror shows growing up but who knows. I look back at all my works and Kai’s right. I tend to do these pictures more when I'm not the best headspace.

“You really know me, at this point it's mostly subconscious” I laugh “I was also watching creepypasta videos so the idea could have come from that. Anyways, what do you think about it so far?”

“I love it of course!” Kai says

I work on transferring it onto the canvas and after about 2 hours the pencil sketch is laid out. Once that's done we decide to go to the movies. We went and saw whatever Kai wanted to see. He picked some rom com which I wasn't mad at as I enjoy these types of movies.

After the movie we went to a sushi place for dinner. I wasn't that hungry so I got the rest of mine to go. Then we went to the supermarket to get some candy and pop for tonight. We decided that we were going to stay up quite a bit of the night so I can work on my artwork and we can just talk about life and stuff. We pull into the parking lot and head inside. This store is open 24/7 so we have plenty of time to get our stuff, but still it is 11:30pm and something makes the air feel very eerie tonight.

After walking around the store Kai and I look at eachother and we both feel like something is off because this uneasy feeling Kai and I hurry up and grab what we wanted. Kai and I decided to pick up Sour Patch Kids, gummy bears and some chips. We then went into the drink aisle where I picked out Dr. Pepper, and ginger ale. Kai picked out diet Pepsi and cream soda. We picked out the four flavours that we both love. We then decided to get a tub of cotton candy ice cream. As we were turning there was this lady who crashed her cart into ours as we were on our way to check out. I looked up and noticed that it was the same lady that had been in each aisle with us, which honestly didn’t make any sense as we just went to the isles we needed.

We check out of the store and head back to the car. After putting everything in the trunk of the car, I look up and see the same woman still there. What the fuck?

“Hey Kai, can you take the cart back please?” He nods and I get into the car and lock it.

I hear a knock that startles me and I look up. It was just Kai. I unlocked the door and he got in. “Wanna tell me why you had the door locked Elle?”

I look over and the woman gets into the car next to us oh great my horror brain made something out of nothing. She was also probably having a movie night with some of her friends.

“It’s nothing Kai, I think I’m just psyching myself out.”

“Okay.” With that we drove back to my place right in the nic of time too as it just started to rain. We shut off all the lights and lock the doors and windows upstairs. We head back down to my studio and I set up everything to begin painting.

I wanted something in the background while I was working so I put on Another. Kai and I have already watched it a few times but we didn’t want to start something new since I wouldn't be able to give it my full attention. Also it's a horror anime so it will put me in the mood for my painting.

I looked down at the outline I drew; it was a girl who had gone psychotic and had a knife in her hand. My plan is to add blood to her once the painting is completely dry, but first I start by painting the eyes. When they are finished they look very dead and already mentally gone inside. I take a break and lay my head on Kai’s shoulder.

“Tired?” he asks me.

“No, I just wanted a break.” We continue watching the anime after two more episodes. There was a bang of thunder and a flash of lightning, I looked out the small window and saw what looked to be a figure of a woman. I looked back to get a better look but she's gone. I must just be seeing things.

I brush it off then get back to my painting. About an hour later I finish painting the skin and I see another flash out of the corner of my eye. I think to myself how odd that is because there was no thunder. I brushed it off as the volume of the show probably just covered the sound. I decided to be done with painting for the night, so we moved out into the lounge area and continued watching Another. There was another flash and in the window we saw her. The woman from the supermarket was in my window.We were going to call the cops then with another flash she's gone.

We decided we couldn't take anymore horror tonight so we put on Ouran Highschool Host Club a few hours later we were on the episode where a character named Tamaki was trying to figure out his friend Haruhi’s biggest fear. When we see a flash of lightning in the episode, it also flashes here, and we see her silhouette again and she vanishes with the lightning once more.

Creeped out we went to my room and lay in bed, I cuddled into Kai because honestly I was shaking and needed comfort.

In the morning Kai and I woke up to banging on the door. I checked the time and it was 8:30 am. We got up and checked no one was there, but there was an envelope that said Elizabeth Steevens and Kai Kalua I brought it inside.

“Ummmm Kai?”

“Yeah?”

I turn the envelope to show him. We were both scared and didn't know what to do. We opened it and there were at least 40 photos of us, starting from when we were coming out of the movie. There were photos of us at the sushi restaurant, the grocery store, and the worst ones of all the ones that were taken looking into my house. Ones of us in my art room, in the lounge, and ones of us asleep in my bed.

Panicked, I call the police and they tell us to come down to the station. Since neither of us knew the woman's name they said there was nothing they could really do for us except to have us tell them if something else happens. Some help they were, I thought.

Kai and I went back to my studio and I continued working on the piece. This time our show of choice was Miria Nikki. As I was painting the hair I saw another flash and considering what happened last night we decided to go to my parents office and check the security cameras and lo and behold she's there on the property.

“Kai whats that in her hand?”

“I don’t know,”

I looked closer and saw that it was a knife. We once again called the police and this time they came, but hearing a car must have scared her. They came inside and asked to watch the cameras with us. Only this time she was at the back door that's connected to the kitchen and of course I happened to leave it unlocked…

“Oh Elizabeth, Kai, come out come out wherever you are..” The woman sang out menacingly. Her voice rang through the house loudly causing me to look to one of the officers for advice

He nods for Kai and I walk out.

“There you two are,”

“Do we know you?” I ask, genuinely confused as to who this woman is.

“Yeah I don't know who you are either.” Kai said just as confused.

“I'm Chloe. I am in your art class.” She says.

We were both confused; we don’t remember having ever seen her before. Our art class had six people in it, us two, three other of our friends and some weird girl who doesn't talk to anybody.

“... you’re the weird girl in our class aren’t you?” Kai questions.

“What did you call me?” She asked with a defensive tone.

“What did you expect him to say, you literally refuse to talk to us. Then whenever the teacher praises my work, you get angry. Besides who goes around taking pictures of people in their own house! That is fucking creepy.” I say

“I get angry because you always get the spotlight! Give someone else a turn.”

“Elle gets the attention because she actually shows her artwork, you just sit in the back of the class and do nothing. If you want attention why ignore us when we try talking to you? What is your problem? And why do you have a knife?” You can tell Kai is starting to lose patience with the situation, as his questions get increasingly aggressive.

“So I can get rid of my competition,” she smiles sweetly.

“What competition? There is no competition Chloe” I ask

“What competition? I have liked Kai forever!” Chloe says frustrated, slightly getting closer to the two of them with the knife.

Kai puts one hand out towards her, while using the other to pull me back with him a couple steps, creating distance between her and I before he speaks again.“I will never like you. Besides there is only one person I like, and hate to break it to sweetheart but it's not you.” This makes me curious who Kai was referring to.

“Then who is it then?” she asks angrily

That's when Kai kissed me. I kissed him back, albeit slightly flustered. This caused Chloe to become enraged, she came towards us with the knife and that's when the cops came out and told her to put the knife down. She complied and dropped the knife as she didn’t realize that the police were here.

One of the two cops took her away as the other came and told us they were going to hold her and do a mental assessment on her. He also checked to see if Kai and I were okay. After we tell him we are he also leaves, leaving Kai and I alone to deal with this new revelation.

“Do you actually like me? Or were you just saying that to get her to stop…” anxious about the answer since I have liked Kai for a while, but didn't want to make things awkward with him.

“Elle I have liked you for a while but I didn't want to lose you.” Kai says as he pulls me closer to him.

I don't know how to respond, all my mind was telling me was ‘kiss him’. I pull him in by his shoulders to another kiss, quickly dispelling doubts either of us had. Kai placed his hands on my waist and melted into it. He pulls away and leans his forehead against mine, just holding me. For the first time in a few days I felt safe.

“Kai?” I ask in a quiet tone almost a whisper.

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“Can you stay while my parents are gone?” I don’t feel safe enough to be home alone, and you wanted to stay in the comfort that he gave you.

“Of course I can angel.”

#anime #alone #creepy #artist #high school #home alone #horror #oneshot #senior #stalker

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tigerdovefan34-realone · 3 years

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So here's a fic idea I posted on Reddit. I want to see if anyone would be down to read it. Enough likes/reblogs and I'll start working on it ASAP :

At the very start of the story, we have Toga and Saito walking home from graduation and Saito is noticeably blushing (I personally hc that he had a massive crush on Toga and maybe fought those kids to impress her as Teenage Boys are want to do) before Toga indicates that she wants them both to stop. Saito is nervous but is ready to confess, thinking only about how Adorable Himiko looks before she attacks him. However, Saito is able to dodge and outmaneuver here. He then notices that she's crying and instantly feels his heart nearly break at the sight of her eyes filled with tears. Soon, he's able to disarm and pin her and interrogates her, though she escapes after muttering "Mama...Papa...Normal...Onii-chan...Imoutosan...Otoutosan...Deviant..." before she makes a run for it, confusing Saito and leading him to investigate Himiko and her family, meeting her little sisters, little brother, elder brother, and parents for the first time and while the parents and elder brother are asses and very cold when it comes to Himiko, and the sister younger than her by a year is nervous to speak up along with one of the twins (the brother), who are the youngest in the family. The youngest daughter spills everything.

The Toga family, being extremely wealthy and influential is able to sweep the mess under the rug in a few days and Saito is discredited as a liar. Meanwhile, Toga on the run meets with someone by the name of Jin who becomes a father figure to her, helping her come to turns with herself and her quirk without killing people and she convinces him to talk to people who might actually care about helping him.

A week after Graduation, Saito finally tracks down both Himiko and Jin, who are being harassed by a gang of villains with steel quirks. After knocking out and beating up Jin and brushing Saito aside before going after Himiko to do certain things with her (Imagine what you'd like) only for Saito's quirk to awaken, along with Himiko as both of them are in a highly stressful situation.

Saito's full name is Ichidan Saito, which translates to (could be wrong here so feel free to correct me) To Use Pure Wisteria or better, To Use Pure Poison, given Wisteria being a toxic plant. His quirk is him being able to secrete wisteria poison from his fingernails, but he's able to control it and able to give out specific dosages depending on how much he wants to secrete. If he wants to kill, large amounts will come from his fingernails and instantly kill the person he scratches. If he's looking to knock out or paralyze, a more regulated dosage will come out. However, the only thing is, he needs to land a scratch on soft flesh for it to work.

Well, the evolved version of Wisteria Nails (Quirk name) is him being able to use his fingers and the palms of his hand to secrete the poison while at the same time the poison becomes very Acid like and thus far more dangerous to those with metallic quirks depending on the dosage. Soon the gang is beaten back and while Jin takes therapy, eventually becoming the head of his own hero agency and reaching #6 relatively quickly after awakening his quirk, Saito and Toga attend UA's hero course in 1A and reaching the Sports Festival, where they both place 3rd (all while a certain green haired boy takes notes on them, calling their quirks "So Amazing!") before being the first interns to be taken in by Jin's agency. The three are seen as a rather strange but effective trio, with Jin being Xeroxer, the Duplication Hero, Saito being Rancor, the Poison Hero, and Toga being Selene, The Blood Heroine.

They do encounter Midoriya once or twice but by the end of the year, they have been proven to be extremely effective in what they do and none can deny their abilities. And Saito and Toga eventually get together, to Jin's delight, making Toga swear to name their first son after him. Meanwhile, Toga's parents and elder brother refuse to acknowledge her existence, calling her a blight on the family that doesn't deserve to be an heir to the family's fortune and influence. One Saturday, when on Patrol, they get a call about something strange happening at Graves after Dark and after a stakeout, they see and confront a villain only for them to escape without using their quirk. After a Week's worth of encounters, they finally confront the Villain, who reveals themselves as Godan Mouja (from what I see, means To Control The Dead)

Their Quirk basically allows them to reanimate the dead, recently deceased, half decomposed, fully decomposed, just skeleton, it doesn't matter. However, they aren't Zombies, as hitting they're will cause the corpses to disintegrate into dust if they're knocked out/paralyzed. After a long, brutal, and exhausting fight, Toga is told to run for it while Saito and Jin hold off Mouja. Jin says that she's always been his daughter through spirit if not blood and makes sure she sticks to her promise to name her first born son after him. Meanwhile, Saito and Toga have a brief argument before he kisses her and forces her to run, saying he always loved her and will always watch over her.

The poor girl is barely able to escape and All Might is able to convince her family to take her in as with Jin and Saito dead, the agency is now defunct and incorporated into another hero agency. She becomes nothing more than an emotionless robot who shows no happiness, no sadness, nothing, bit whenever Mouja is mentioned, she has a psychotic break, swearing up and done she'll tear them apart when waving a knife around. Meanwhile, Mouja, realizing they can break a hero mentally before taking their corpse to add to their collection (which is the equivalent of putting maple syrup on pancakes for them) decides to ensure Saito and Jin can't decompose and has many skeletons take on their skins as well to torment her in a fight without risking the real ones being destroyed so he can break her and take in her delicious meltdown at her dead father figure and lover calling her a monster, murderer, coward, traitor, and freak again and again while fighting her whenever they do meet again.

Eventually, it's year 2 and Toga, now in Class 2A, goes to the new UA Sports Festival with people being interested in taking either out of pity or wanting to use her looks to help their agency prosper. And in this Sports Festival, she goes up against a familiar green haired boy that looks like Saito.

The story will be about Toga living past Saito and Jin's deaths, her conflict with Mouja, Midoriya opening her up and their eventual first kiss, and the two going through the trials and tribulations of the series as a couple with Toga as a Hero and MC. So what's the general thought on the Prologue of the story? Or do you think it should be it's own story as a prequel? (Didn't mean to reveal so much if the latter is decided. Might delete this post if people agree this should entirely be it's own story as a prequel)

By the way, I have no ideas for Toga's family names, hero names, and quirks, so if you have any ideas, feel free to reccomend them and I'll consider them.

Would anyone be interested in helping me keep the characters consistent, editing, and helping me with creating a proper storyline for this

#my hero academia #toga himiko #saito #izusaito #twice mha #jin bubaigawara #fanfiction idea

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gothic-safari-clown · 3 years

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The Mind’s Power Over the Body

Part 21: The Mind’s Power Over the Body

Story summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they're reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they've both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan's side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.

Word count: 1522

Ooh, the chapter title is the same as the fic title

Elianna could not have been more proud of her mask. She had spent every second of her free time measuring and adjusting and sewing and sending Jonathan to the store to get what she needed: something he found tedious, she was sure.

Either way, she had gotten it finished with one day to spare, and she was positively giddy. Even Jonathan had seemed impressed, and from what she could tell by what he had said, Scarecrow was thrilled with her dedication to the fear project. When she had finished, Jonathan had surprised her with a fear gas sleeve rig like his, and she was aching for the chance to use both of her new toys.

It was getting dark out when Jonathan came into her office, looking annoyed.

"Rachel Dawes is on her way here," he monotoned, making her frown. She had yet to meet Dawes, but she had been causing trouble for them from the start.

"Why?"

"Apparently," he began with a sigh, removing the doorstopper to let it swing closed, "she disagrees with the fact that Falcone got moved here. She finds his mental break suspicious."

"She's really up on her white horse, huh?" Jonathan scoffed in response.

"Either way, she might back off if she thinks I have a second opinion on this case. Are you up for a little acting?"

"Absolutely. What's the plan for if she doesn't buy it?"

"You have your mask on you?" El nodded, fondly remembering Jonathan talking her through making the false bottom of her briefcase.

"We match now!"

"Yes, we do. Just make sure it closes all the way when you're done with it."

"Good, she'll be here in a little under an hour. And we're the only ones here besides the orderlies, so I just got Falcone's men downstairs to supervise. Hopefully, everything will be able to go smoothly tomorrow."

"I'm sure it will just focus on the task at hand."

El had been surprised when Jonathan told her that he had managed to pay off some of Falcone's thugs to be loyal to them, and more than a little suspicious. But after meeting them and working with them for a few days, she was actually very grateful that she and Jonathan had people to delegate to for the last few days of work.

.xXx.

Dawes ended up arriving much earlier than projected, which only served to irritate Jonathan further. The entire walk to Falcone's cell was spent with him practically fuming and El becoming more and more curious about just how annoying one person could actually be.

"Miss Dawes, this is most irregular," Jonathan spoke as they approached, not giving the woman a chance to get the first word in. El caught on to the energy and jumped in before the other woman could get a word out.

"I'm Doctor Montgomery, I've been consulting on this case, and I speak for both of us when I say that we have nothing further to add to the report we filed with the judge."

"I have some questions about your report."

"Such as?" Jonathan challenged while El arranged her face into what she hoped was something patient and expectant. God, she really is tiresome.

"Isn't it convenient for a fifty-two-year-old man who had no history of mental illness to suddenly have a complete psychotic breakdown just when he's about to be indicted?" She had a fair point, but El made sure to keep her face impassive.

"Well, as you can see for yourself, there's nothing convenient about his symptoms." Oh dear, he's getting pissed. The woman didn't have a response planned for that, so she turned her attention stubbornly back to the man behind the glass, who was muttering to himself.

"What's 'scarecrow?'" The brunette fired off. El took it upon herself to reply so that Jonathan wouldn't snap.

"Patients suffering from delusional episodes often focus their paranoia on an external tormentor," she explained, doing her best to keep her voice pleasant and collegial. "Usually one conforming to Jungian archetypes. In this case," she gestured to the glass, "a scarecrow."

"And he's drugged?" This question seemed to amuse Jonathan.

"Psychopharmacology is my primary field. I'm a strong advocate." The thought of Jonathan being an 'advocate' for anything nearly made El laugh. "Outside, he was a giant. In here, only the mind can grant you power." Dawes shifted her eyes between the pair through narrowed eyes.

"You two enjoy the reversal." Jonathan allowed himself a mildly amused smile if only for a second.

"Doctor Montgomery and I respect the mind's power over the body." El nodded in agreement.

"It's why we do what we do," she smiled, keeping up her friendly persona. She was hoping that if she did her part properly, maybe it would lessen the suspicion on Jonathan, but it didn't seem to work. In fact, Dawes sent a scowl in her direction.

"I do what I do to keep thugs like Falcone behind bars, not in therapy." With that, she breezed past them toward the elevator. Jonathan and El shared a look, knowing what had to happen next. She was still talking as they turned to catch up with her. "I want my own psychiatric consultant to have full access to Falcone, including bloodwork. Find out exactly what you two put him on." El rolled her eyes, thankful that the Dawes's back was still turned to her.

"First thing tomorrow then," Jonathan sighed as they flanked her at the elevator doors, knowing what had to come next.

"Tonight," she charged into the elevator ahead of them, and El suddenly understood very well why Jonathan and Scarecrow seemed to hate the brunette so much. She herself was struggling not to choke her out right there in the elevator. "I've already paged Doctor Lehmann at County General" as if they were supposed to know who that was. Maybe Jonathan did, but judging by his lack of reaction, probably not.

Jonathan inserting his key to take them to the basement didn't go unnoticed by the redhead, but Dawes didn't seem to catch it. "As you wish," he forced out through gritted teeth as the door closed behind them.

Dawes gave Elianna a questioning look when the doors opened to reveal the basement, to which El replied with a reassuring smile.

"This way, please," Jonathan directed, leading them into the hallway. "There's something I think you should see."

The one thing that El didn't understand was how they would get her through the secret panel in the closet. She was going over different scenarios in her head when Jonathan passed the door and instead approached a larger one at the end of the hallway where it turned and pushed the double doors open dramatically.

They all came forward to stand on a balcony overlooking the workroom that El had grown familiar with, one level above where the secret panel led out. She understood now why they took the other way: the stairs going from the level they were standing on to the next level down had been taken out.

The redhead watched the dawning horror on the attorney's face as she took in what was happening as Jonathan spoke again.

"This is where we make the medicine." No, not Jonathan. It was subtle, but once she heard it, it was unmistakable. That was Scarecrow mimicking Jonathan's voice. Dawes was too shocked to notice the slight change in cadence, and her gaze was affixed to an inmate pouring a drum of the toxin directly into a busted open water pipe.

Not just any inmate either. Zsasz. Feeling someone watching him, he looked up in curiosity; when he saw El standing there, he shuddered and quickly turned back to what he was doing, his breath coming in broken gasps as he remembered something he would rather not. Elianna grinned when she saw Rachel make the connection and snap her head to look at her. "You-!" she managed to gasp out.

"Me," El confirmed with a wink. A low chuckle drew their attention back to the bespectacled man beside them.

"Perhaps you should have some, Miss Dawes. Clear your head." The brunette woman bolted for the elevator, and the two leftover partners in crime shared a look. Scarecrow smiled at El, a full smile; something she had never seen from Jonathan. It was sort of nice to see, and she smiled back as Scarecrow produced his face fluidly from their briefcase.

Rachel had reached the elevator. Luckily for the scheming pair, it wouldn't budge without the basement key. All Rachel managed to see when the elevator doors opened again were two masks, one burlap and one that seemed to be lined on the outside with faux leather, fashioned into a long, sleek beak.

Then, a cloud of gas—fired at the same time that she gasped in fear—and she coughed as the gas entered her lungs. When she looked back up, the masks had been distorted and twisted, oozing from the holes and crawling with...god, something. It didn't matter because they each seized an arm and dragged her back out of the elevator before her thoughts dissolved completely.

#The Mind’s Power Over the Body #Jonathan Crane #scarecrow #batman begins #Nolanverse #Elianna Montgomery #jonathan crane x ofc #multi chapter fic #slight au #Attraction To The Insane #cillian murphy #cillian murphy scarecrow #tmpotb chapter 21

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zenosanalytic · 4 years

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Harrow the Ninth: Insanity, the Body, and Gideon Redux

Spoilers, Obvsl

While writing My Other Three Reaction Posts while reading this book, one thing I kept WANTING to do but kept stopping myself from doing was praise Muir’s treatment&presentation of psychosis. I THOUGHT that was what she was aiming for, but It’s a touchy subject and I worried about imparting motive to an author on it or misrepresenting my own experience or knowledge of it in doing so, so I kept deciding to Not. But then, In the Acknowledgements at the back, Muir touches, very briefly, on her own experiences in this regard so I now feel comfortable giving her treatment of the topic all the kudos I can. Her portrayal is affectingly Honest. The terror and shame of Harrow’s condition -the vulnerability which makes trust both an inescapable necessary and horrifying to offer; Her desperate NEED for people to trust, and how easy that is to exploit and abuse- is fully conveyed. It’s rare enough to see a sympathetic portrayal of any mental illness in our society let alone psychosis, a condition which has been enthusiastically vilified and sensationalized in our popular culture for at least a century. But to see a psychotic PROTAGONIST, and to see her condition in all the sorrow, fear, and wretchedness it can bring, through the eyes of a sympathetic narrator, while said protagonist is trapped among callous self-serving ppl who see in it not suffering to be soothed but an excuse to discount, ignore, abuse, and exploit; and then to see her declared INNOCENT and VICTIM and RIGHT in clear, masterful prose; when the fuck does this happen?

It of course plays structural roles too; both by confusing what exactly is going on with Harrow and, through that confusion, allowing the reader to share a small piece of Harrow’s experience. Her visions, her memories, her FALSE memories, and her experiences all intertwine to muddle what exactly is going on. Is this “madness” a long-term shame hidden, or an intense response to trauma? Is she physically injured, or emotionally wrecked by Gideon’s death? Has she changed herself in some way, and if she has is it a result of that; or is this something longstanding we’ve merely never seen before? Is she sleepwalking, or is Gideon sleepwalking her, or is The Body, or is something/one else? Is Cytherea a hallucination, or a cruel prank, or a revenant, or is she Haunted? Does physical evidence truly contradict her memories or is this a hallucination too? Harrow can’t be sure of any of this and neither can the reader, and this taste of her experience helps the reader to sympathize with her plight.

And, by confusing the nature of The Body, Cytherea, and what happened to Gideon(all “Bodies” from Harrow’s past in one way or another; some excellent wordplay whether intentional or no), the plot is obscured so that it can develop in a naturally suspenseful way. All these other possibilities obscure the possibility of Wake’s haunting, even though she and revenant possession are mentioned repeatedly throughout the book, laying out the development hidden in plain-sight. And that, in turn, works mechanically to allow these related plotlines -What’s up with The Body; what’s going on with Gideon; who’s the Narrator- spool out in a smooth, naturalistic, engrossing way as well.

It’s obvs by the end, and spcl given the reveal about Alecto’s eyes and how she leaves just when the Resurrection Beast arrives(ie just when it would start making a spirit leaving difficult), that “The Body” -Alecto- is a real visitation; from the moment they become gold on at least. I’m still not sure if her presence going back to Harrow opening the tomb are real or fabricated; I feel like she’d have told this to Gideon with all the rest. But: they didn’t have much time together, and it wouldn’t make much sense to fabricate visions which began post-Lyctor back into her past when the transformation itself could be blamed for them, so there’s good reason to think this aspect of her remembered “madness” was real even if the rest seemed to be part of the backstory needed to “make her a different person”(e.g. in fact she disdained grave dirt on the trip to First House and perennially disdained comforts or reliance on others of any kind, but the her she remembered not only always took the dirt, but also told Ortus about her “madness” immediately when it became pertinent. Pre-Surgery Harrow would never do that).

As to the Body and her visitations by it, based on what was said about Alecto(that she wasn’t really “dead” just sort or “turned off”) and the mechanics of revenant-possession/spirit-visitation(running along thanergic links created through relevance and physical contact/called up by powerful necromancers), I think that Harrow, through her religious devotion to the Tomb-turned romantic ecstasy(and what a cool callback to medieval sexualization of faith THAT is!), and by physically TOUCHING Alecto(who maybe was still spiritually aware even if her body was “turned off”) probably created an avenue for Alecto to remain in contact with her through the River wherever she went(though I can’t remember her mentioning having Visions of The Body on Canaan House? I need to look through Harrow again to see), potentially further amplified by Harrow unknowingly summoning her through sheer emotional need. Gideon’s description of “surfacing” pretty definitely nixes the idea that any of those visions were overlays masking interventions by her.

Jumping off from there to the sleepwalking/body-sharing/possession... Gideon makes it clear her “surface” moments were incredibly short(she kept getting “clotheslined down”) and that she never manifested or had any control over Harrow’s body until the climax. The description of how Harrow’s Memory-Stage works states Harrow’s soul “emptied” from her body whenever she was on the Stage, which was everytime she slept or otherwise became unconscious(I really need to go back and see if the Break Chapters always followed “Whole” chapters ending in sleep/unconsciousness) but, as above, Gideon was too well partitioned to ever take over until the moment near the end. Wake was in Gideon’s sword(thinking back to GtN, Harrow DID have an odd antipathy for it even then), and at somepoint post-Lyctor(post-surgery? That makes sense given that’s when the Dream Stage was built and Harrow’s defenses would have been down) she jumped to possessing Harrow herself. It must have been Wake who sleepwalked her to impale Cytherea, perhaps so she could transfer her “anchor” from the sword to her corpse. Though maybe revenants can haunt multiple objects at once from their anchor; I find it Ominous that Pent kept mentioning the need to exorcise the anchor there at the end and that no exorcism took place. Could the sword STILL be haunted? But what role could she possibly have to still play in the story?

As to Gideon herself... I really cannot see Muir killing her off like that. Is it possible for a bound cavalier soul to break it’s link to the Lyctor’s body? It is possible that -given the empty Tomb in Harrow’s final chapter and what that place could potentially represent- Alecto is now in Harrow’s body, but Alecto has HER OWN Body(which apparently looks nearly IDENTICAL to Harrow with Gideon’s eyes, which adds a humorous line of narcissistic accusation to Harrow’s attraction to her; hope Gideon picks that up in AtN :p), and it’d be the easiest thing in the world to have the trauma of resurfacing, somehow given she lacks Necromancy, from The River give Gideon in Harrow’s body amnesia. That chapter DOES have the implication, with those bones, that she’s doing Necromancy though, so who knows. It’s possible what we’re seeing there is finally a true merger of the two, though I doubt that given how I read the ending; I think the possibilities are either Gideon with amnesia(and potentially Necromantic now due to Harrow choosing not to return and her powers “ceding” to her body’s current occupant. Still not sure where the line btw physical&metaphysical is with necromantic ability), or Alecto in Harrow’s body, with both Gideon and Harrow “dead”(in or over the River due to Harrow’s choice) atm. One Flesh, One End, afterall owo owo owo

#Harrow the Ninth #Harrow the Ninth Spoilers #HtN Analysis #HtN Theories #zA's Wildeyed Guessings #analytic posts

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liljungie · 4 years

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$OLD | KIM TAEHYUNG one shot

Pairing: [mafia leader] taehyung × reader

Trigger warnings: mentions of drugs/guns/rape( but not really¿)/ dirty talk / psychotic taehyung.

Word count: 2144

> My writings Masterlist <

Requests are open ^_^

A/N: I swear I'm not a psychopath

Working late at night has it's perks or maybe just to you it was a blessing.

you didn't have to face a messed up step father when he's drunk, high on toxins and out of his mind, and you don't have to hear your mother yelling at him for harassing you, again.

Not like he would stop if she did, he didn't care, he would push your mother out of the room and he would come back to your bedroom and he would lock the door and continue to abuse you, hurt you, each time it was different depending on the day.

You never knew why he did what he did, so you just let him do what he wanted and walk out ,you learned the hard way that if you say or do something or push him away you'll end up with broken bones and a lot of bruises and scars, funny enough you rather have bruises and scars rather than having a broken limb.

broken limb meant no work and no work meant you're available to your messed up stepfather to do as he please 24/7 and that's the last thing you wanted to grant him.

Ever since your mother got married to that lunatic you never been the same you became weaker, sad as ever and lost all hope in life, you worked for the local bar as a bartender to pay for the small apartment you live in and to put food infront of

your mother,even though you're young you learned mixing drinks fast you knew which tastes better and which were too strong you had to try the drinks before you served any.

Which lead you to be drunk at the end of the day most times.

Most of your drunk nights ended up in

you being unconscious behind the building naked from the waist down sometimes fully naked depending on how shitty the guy you were with the night before.

Strangers having their way with you was a hell lot better than your stepfather.

One night a man walked through the doors like he owns the place, suite and tie,clean face long dark hair, basically the guy was drenched in money and glory, and not to mention awfully young around your age maybe a year or three older,he had two guards on each side of him as he walked through and took a seat right in front of the bar, where you were working.

You raised your brows questionly usually rich men would sit in the booths far away from the bar that was decorated with bright colored lights so they could deal and do their dirty work privately or it would definitely be evident to everyone and men like him usually have women around him to entertain them as they sip on beverages that makes them forget reality and do whatever they want without the mind controlling their movements, not to mention this part of town was poor as hell he definitely wouldn't get that type of luxury here, middle class men and under do come here drink what they ordered and go on with their lives.

Nonetheless a job is a job and you had to do as you're told.

"good evening" a fake smile was planted on your face as you greeted the man "what would you like to drink?" He smirks as he placed his hands on top of each other on the wooden surface as he looks at you, almost analyzing you, licking his lips then he spoke "vodka"

You smiled and turned your back to him you grabbed the vodka bottle and a glass then you placed the glass infront of him and poured the liquid in and placed a lime on top and moved the glass closer to the man's hands, still offering a smile.

You went back to wiping the table, still suspicious as to why he was sitting here, of all places..you shrugged it off and decided not to pay much attention to it anymore thinking nothing of it and pushed it to the side focusing on work instead then you heard him ask "you're Christopher's step daughter aren't you?" He glanced at you still the smirk was there mocking you.

You titled your head, your eyes were glossy the mention of your stepfather's name obviously terrified you but nonetheless you answered "yes I am" sadly you wanted to add, trying your hardest not to show how much you despised that man that was your stepfather.

a million questions raced through your mind after his abrupt question you never talked about him to anyone, you didn't even know anyone you could talk to, but you figured to start with the easy questions and work your way up, you stopped wiping the table and looked him in the eyes "and you are?" You thanked the gods that your voice came out strong and clear.

The man infront of you smiled then he downed the last bit of what was left in his glass "Taehyung" he smiled at you "Kim taehyung" he winked "what about you sweetface?"

"_____" you mutter and he smiled "beautiful name for a beautiful girl" he remarks as a red hue coverd your cheeks and you looked away, you weren't used to sweet talk..not from guys around your age at least.

Taehyung signaled for his guards at the snap of his fingers and they went away..slightly but it was enough space for him to talk to you without being interrupted.

knowing his guards they get a bit overprotective and he didn't want to scare you off knowing that you lived with someone like Christopher for years was enough for him to know that you were troubled, and you would be defensive and the talk he wants to have with you is going to trigger a reaction out of you that his guards would definitely point a gun or two at.

He sighed and leaned forward taking a better look at your face, you watched him with wary eyes, slightly afraid of how the hell did he know Christopher? Your stepfather was definitely not on this man's level, this man is everything your stepdouche wasn't; Young, rich and powerful.

Why would he stoop so low unless Christopher fucked up which appears in this case;he definitely has.

"You see,______ I run a business...some would say it's deadly, which it is, but not from my end" he smiles as he starts to sweet talk the clueless girl "I'm a mafia leader" as he said that you can't believe how nonchalnet he was speaking these words like he was talking about his favourite color, your eyes definitely popped out of their sockets if you were afraid before now you were terrified, slightly shaking in your cheap boots.

"Your stepfather took a little too much candy that he couldn't pay for..." you knew exactly what type of 'candy' taehyung was talking about drugs you saw it on the tables at home before you wiped them clean, you saw him line up the powder and stuffing it in his nostrils before he made his way to your bedroom,it made you sick.

But it's not like you could have stopped him or done something.

He spoke again breaking you away from your trance "He kept promising he would pay up but as you can see darling..he never did" he licked his lips "so instead I made a deal with him" he says way too cheerfully, adjusting his collar while he sent you a smirk.

Your body was shaking with anticipation? Nervousness? You wiped your hands on the back of your jeans you didn't realize you were sweating so much you placed your hair behind your ears as if somehow that will help you understand better, which was a habit of yours "what kind of deal?" You ask afraid of the answers yet you braced yourself to hear the worst.

And it definitely looks bad for you.

He chuckled "the stupidest one baby" he chuckled louder "your stepfather is so stupid" he shakes his head, you felt his gaze change to lust the seriousness in his eyes vanished completely, you swallowed as you feel your heart drop.

And the pet names he gave you weren't helping your fragile state, it almost lured you in but not quite.

There's no way you're letting your guard down "He is messed up but he's not stupid I know he isn't" you didn't know why you were defending him as if somehow that would scare the mafia boss off, hell to him it was so adorable and he's anything but scared of you, taehyung was amused at your response.

"Oh?"He laughed and stood up from the stool leaning closer to you the only thing that was separating you from him was this bar.

He bit his bottom lip as he looked up and down on you like you were a tasty dish that he couldn't wait to devour and boy he is starving "oh yeah?" He smirks "he sold you to me babygirl"

You stared at him astonished,'he's drunk' you thought 'he is not thinking straight..he's lying' deep down inside you knew it would take a lot more than one glass of vodka to get this man drunk out of his mind you're trying to convince yourself that it's not true that there's no way your stepfather would sell you to pay up his debts.

You didn't think he would be this fucked up

But then again Christopher didn't think it's messed up to try and sleep with you; his step daughter, so selling you definitely was okay to him, you felt disgusted by him you always been but this? It definitely takes the cake and was the cheery on top of it all.

"Babygirl why the long face hmm? I knew that pig has been hurting you, it was my idea that he sells you..to me" he chuckles, your insides went up in flames you were so embarrassed and hurt and terrified you never felt this way ever, every bad emotion you could ever feel was hitting and jabbing you at once "I'd treat you so much better angel" he purrs.

"You're no different you're just as mental as he is" you spit, tears slowly run on your face, taehyung killed and tortured many he ruined lives by selling drugs to men like Christopher and worse, and he won't ever stop, it's his job and if he's capable of doing all of that surely he is capable of making your life a miserable living hell when you leave with him tonight.

Taehyung's face softens and he reaches forward wiping away your tears pitying you almost, you turned your head pressing your lips in a line trying to ignore the taste of your tears,taehyung didn't know much about emotions so he couldn't understand why you were crying, he wasn't going to kill you! Not now at least.. he thought.

'she should be thankful that I didn't shoot her right then and there at least that counts for something' he thought he's sure you're a pleasure to your stepdad and there's nothing more he loved than riding people of what they loved the most. You shouldn't be afraid of him he thought to himself.

Although firing his gun was a pleasure he didn't feel elsewhere and something he won't ever give up,his guns were everything to him,

Watching the life leave his opponent eyes was euphoric it made him feel like a hero almost.

"Don't cry babydoll" he coos as you close your eyes defeated,his hand creassing your cheek softly he kept smiling to reassure you that everything will be fine but that's so far from reality.

God the fun he's going to have with you is making him hard and he barely touched you, he can't imagine how you're going to feel around his dick or how sweet you taste.

He thinks to himself you're the overly sensitive type which turned him on massively, he wanted you to save those tears for when he's deep in you moving slowly in and out savoring every second he spends inside you stretching you out, feeling every inch of you, hitting your soft spot again and again until you're full of his cum he's sure all the dicks you had before don't compare to his and he can't wait to go home and play with you until you beg him to stop which of course he won't.

He loves his new dolls the most, you're not the first and definitely won't be the last.

"You're all mine now" he whispers sounding sweeter than honey, just like that you were wrapped around his long,gorgeous fingers.

And just like that Taehyung strikes again.

[sequel]

#taehyung imagine #taehyung smut #kim taehyung #taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung scenarios #writing #taehyung x y/n #taehyung imagines #v imagine #v imagines #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts scenarios

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bookfreaky · 4 years

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A Small History of Chemical Beings

An average adult suffering of major depression can present the symptoms of hypersomnia and / or insomnia. During the hypersomnia periods said average adult can sleep for about anything from 12 hours to 3 days without a waking moment, and still feel tired. The depressed brain feels tired because it is overworking to produce your daily dosage of dopamine (a hormone associated with pleasure, joy and motivation) and serotonin (a hormone associated with well-being, satisfaction, and self-esteem), these substances need to be produced because they make you happy. As it happens, being happy is very important for humans, as their enormous brain are in constant search for meaning to add up to their complex ideas that they think that constitute the world in their perspective, such ideas like politics, money, religion, philosophy, arts, and whatever else they create.

Warning: humans should know that the world is actually made out of earth, water, air, some other gases, and living carbon species. But somehow, they insist on the money thing.

The problem with a brain that cannot produce the right amount of dopamine and serotonin is that human brains generate a stupid association of pain and illness with sadness, and happiness with well-being and health. So, depressed people actually feel pain. That’s their brain telling their body that they are really fucking sad because they must be really fucking sick or wounded. Probably, when our ancestors were hurt by a lion or something, their brain learned how to make this association, because it doesn’t make fucking sense to be happy while attacked by a lion. That’s why today, when you’ve been 6 hours watching Big Brother without moving in the dark of your room, sometimes it feels like you’ve been hurt by some carnivorous animal.

This association between hurt and comfort, pain and health, sadness and happiness that human brains do make people crave for another substance, one that is much littler, but very addictive. Endorphins. Endorphins are a hormone associated with pain-relief and immediate pleasure, that’s the substance you get when you eat a chocolate bar. But there are things that can produce much more endorphins than a fucking chocolate bar: drugs. Humans love drugs. And there are a lot of options for drugs. Like for example, nicotine has a 200.5 concentration of endorphins per minute; while cocaine has a 700.6 concentration per minute; and methamphetamine has a 1001.1 concentration per minute. While food has mere 75 concentration for minute. Endorphins are cool because they offer a temporary relief to pain and sadness, but since it is temporary your overloaded brain asks for a next hit of it as soon as it stops working, that’s what we call addiction.

Generally, humans deem addictions to be bad thing, which really sucks because humans tell each other that drugs are a good thing. Contradictory. Addictions can be socially acceptable depending on their legal status, their price, and their association with certain ethnical groups and cultures. Some drugs take a slower burn in your body, those are more well accepted mostly: like weed, alcohol, coffee, nicotine, painkillers. The other ones, the heavy drugs are normally considered bad because they generate such a flow of endorphins in your brain that they can cause addiction in a short usage, fucking up your brain’s ability of producing happy hormones on its own, making you waste all your money on them, lose your job, sell your house and end up on some charity rehab – oh, here’s the money thing again. – Yes, heavy drugs such as coke, synthetics, heroine and crack aren’t only addictive, they are also very profitable.

Okay, it’s clear now that a shitload of endorphins isn’t exactly the most plausible solution to our poor depressed, dopamine/serotonin deprived, brain. So, humans, the smart ones I guess, invented other drugs, the controlling drugs. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell the difference, like heroine was used as an anti-psychotic for many years, and we all know how it went. The controlling drugs are used not to inject a substance in your brain, but to assist on its production or maybe block the excessive production of hormones (that can also fuck you up). There are many of them in the market and they are quite expensive: Prozac, Xanax, Carbonated Lithium, Paroxetine, Sertraline, Clonazepam, Haloperidol, Seroquel, Lorax, Lamitrol, Sumatriptan, Tegretol, Lexotan, so on, so on. They usually work with a right combination of them along with a healthy sleeping cycle and frequent exercising.

The shit thing about them is that they are also addictive, most them at least. That’s why is so important to keep visiting your doctor. In a way, they are like your drug dealer but they are a little more concerned about your mental health, or at least they should be. Unfortunately, for chronic cases of mental illness, which they are various: major depression, dichotomic depression, generalized anxiety disorder, social anxiety disorder, bipolar affective disorder, anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa, obsessive compulsive disorder, schizophrenia, schizoid-paranoid disorder, craziness, craziness, craziness. For most of these cases the solution will be one or two of these drugs, allied with a lot of therapy. Psychotherapy is basically two or more people talking but one of them is trained and charges you money for it.

Still even, it’s not uncommon that our little depressed brains, although with a lot of therapy and a lot of drugs (the right ones, duh!) still relapse, collapse, break-down forever and eventually die because that two substances are not in correct balance. And there’s no explanation, no real data that determines the criteria for telling which of these sad brains that will get happy, and which will remain sad. Excuse me, though. Looking back in evolution, natural selection has given us another powerful little tool that can help us.

Oxytocin. This is the hormone associated with love, physical contact, childbirth, breastfeeding, it is the hormone that is produced when humans commune, when they share food, when they have sex, when they kiss, dance, play or do whatever it is together.

When the first mammals started to walk together in small groups, they realised that they had better chances of surviving than if they’re alone. The problem is that living together often sparks aggressiveness due to a competition for food, reproductive partners and whatever. So, their little primitive brains started to produce a hormone that would not just cause joy, but affection. Affection is any manifestation of emotion, but normally used in the meaning of the manifestation of love. Human females discharge a huge amount of oxytocin during labour, and also during lactation, so the baby human is involved in this hormone. Oxytocin is responsible to our ability to form life-long bonds, this is not fucking endorphin, I’m talking life-long bonds.

Whenever oxytocin is produced the brain also produces levels of dopamine and serotonin which causes pleasure, calmness, butterflies in the stomach, and a basic sensation of being loved. It’s proved that just by looking at the smiling face of some you love can make a healthy brain produce oxytocin. Yes, no need to swallow it down, to smoke it, to drink it, not even touch it. Of course, touching makes it much better, hugs, kisses, cuddles, caresseses in general are great oxytocin deliverers. Sex is the up-most oxytocin deliver, but not any sex, only good fucking sex. That’s the reason why humans can’t stay around each other having sex for too long or they fall in love.

Perhaps the secret solution to our depressed brain isn’t just stabilizers of dopamine and serotonin, moderation in your intake of endorphins, but also a little oxytocin production every now and then. A little company must help.

#chronicle #mine #mental illness #depression #mental health #comedy

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blankdblank · 5 years

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Anaticula Pt 46

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 - Pt 12 - Pt 13 - Pt 14 - Pt 15 - Pt 16 - Pt 17 - Pt 18 - Pt 19 - Pt 20 - Pt 21 - Pt 21b - Pt 22 - Pt 23 - Pt 24 - Pt 25 - Pt 26 - Pt 27 - Pt 28 - Pt 29 - Pt 30 - Pt 31 - Pt 33 - Pt 34 - Pt 35 - Pt 36 - Pt 37 - Pt 38 - Pt 39 - Pt 40 - Pt 41 - Pt 42 - Pt 43 - Pt 44 - Pt 45 -

Within the hour as promised Arthur was home and was greeted by you and his children after Minerva had overseen your transport there by portkey for an approved week off with an extension of invitation to Hermione and Harry as well. With a wide grin he eyed the meal and treats you all had whipped up for him, under the aid of his cane he lowered into his chair and shared he had indeed been given a vacation. Quite the lengthy one but mainly due to the fact he claimed he had no clue who had healed him and with the aid of one of your mints he found in your jacket the truth serum was believed to have taken effect.

At his warning you expected to find a tale of how Sirius Black had broken in attacking Auror members, but all across the front page was news of The Rosenfeld Case that had fallen apart after questions about the Veritaserum used being tainted. The only mention close to Arthur’s dilemma was Broderick Bode was strangled to death by a Devil's Snare while in St Mungo's. It seemed Fudge was more afraid of showing any weakness of the Ministry at all after your slew of revenge titles making it a fireable offence to even mention the Black Family.

Though it seems habits are hard to break as across the front page as you’d warned the Order weeks ago, 10 Death Eaters had been broken out of Azkaban, including your aunt Bellatrix and uncle Rudolphus.

‘We have confirmed that 10 high-security prisoners in the early hours of yesterday evening did escape. And of course, the Muggle prime minister has been alerted to the danger. We strongly suspect that the breakout was engineered by a man with personal experience in escaping from Azkaban notorious mass murderer Sirius Black cousin of escapee Bellatrix Lestrange.’

Behind you Hermione stated, “Dumbledore warned Fudge this could happen.”

Ron glanced at you seeing you stand up, your sharp exhale at trying to remain calm not hiding the soft flames coating your hands burning the paper you were crumpling in your fist while sparks rippled across your knuckles. “He's gonna get us all killed just because he can't face the truth.”

Seamus stood trying to speak to you only for you to say you were going to the toilet and would be back, curiously at Neville and the twins hurrying after you he continued to stroll over to Harry just outside the Great Hall, “Harry. I wanted to apologize. Now even me Mum says the Prophet's version of things don't add up. So, what I'm really trying to say is that I believe you.”

Harry nodded and said, “No kidding.”

Harry’s eyes followed your turn down the hall with the trio after you that Seamus turned to asking, “Which toilet is she using? She’s passed them already.”

Harry passed him his copy of the papers and Ron said, “Probably the one we won’t hear her scream in.”

Seamus’ mouth fell open, “Death Eaters?”

Dean looked over his shoulder, “Even I’ve heard about Bellatrix Lestrange and I’m muggle born. Jaqi’s related to her?”

Ron, “Ya see Mate, she’s technically related to two third of the school if you look at her family tree, one of the Sacred 28, oldest in the Wizarding world, plus up till her Dad the lot of them went off pureblood values, so no shocker there’s a score of bad apples in the bunch.”

Hermione, “That’s why Fudge and Umbridge don’t trust her.”

Harry, “And why she’s considered a blood traitor.”

Dean, “Is she going to be ok?”

Ron, “Well, Bellatrix was mental before they locked her away, no telling what she’ll be up to now, or if like the lot of them will come after Jaqi and her Dad, he was a part of how she got captured according to Mum.”

Seamus, “Oh, so, best give her some time then?”

Hermione, “She should be back soon, just tired I think. Hasn’t been sleeping much, and I doubt she will be when Umbridge tries to bring her in for nightly teas again like after Mr Weasley was attacked.”

Seamus smirked as Dean said, “Maybe we can help with that. Make sure she’s too distracted to distract Jaqi.” Dean turned and called out, “Hey Lee,” Lee Jordan turned and they strolled off, “Still got watch on those Nifflers?” Lee grinned wider joining them over to a corner to begin plotting as the others sighed and went to the table.

Shaking in your wavering breaths you lowered onto the floor of the empty third corridor room Fluffy was once held in, curling your legs in tucked in front of you. Your hands rose to support your head as you sniffled under your curtain of flame covered black curls. Around you the trio settled gently patting your legs and back as you calmed mumbling, “I’m just so tired.”

Sitting up you brushed your hair back out of your face and wiped your cheeks looking at Neville, “When he came back she was bound to get out. We knew that. You warned them, they warned Fudge, who clearly didn’t listen.”

You sniffled again, “Why don’t we kill our confirmed psychotic mass murderers like the States do.”

Neville the twins chuckled and said, “But prison breaks are all the rage you know.”

Forcing a flicker of a smile you said, “Even with Occlumency I still can’t stop the dreams. It just never stops.”

Neville, “Maybe Snape can give you some of that Dreamless Draught.”

“And what if another attack happens and I can’t get there in time?”

Neville nodded, “Well, one good thing, my parent’s’ll have to move in now, Nellie definitely. Might even take a leave.”

Fred, “Plus now, can’t be long till the cats out of the bag.”

You nodded, “No doubt he’ll have to admit there’s more at play than my Dad with some vengeance.”

Neville smirked, “Unless he tries to spin it that they’re working with Dumbledore to overthrow Fudge.” All of you laughed at that, including Neville.

“Oh I would pay to have him print that angle just to see it blow up in his face.” Once again you stood feeling much calmer now and joined them down to the Great Hall for something to eat with a plan for you to get a nap in through DA and the break after lunch while the twins took over for you today.

Across a bench in the corner you curled up in your fox form and drifted off to sleep in a protective bubble the twins formed around you just to be safe. More explosive charms made good use of the bubble and when you were woken to groggily head down to lunch though in his lagging behind Harry approached Neville, who was looking up at the photo of the original Order.

“Neville?”

“Fourteen years ago Death Eaters named Bellatrix and Rudolphus Lestrange used the Cruciatus Curse on my parents. Tortured them for information ...but they never gave in. I'm quite proud to be their son. But I'm not sure I'm ready for everyone to know just yet. They might not have remembered being pregnant with me, or my being born, but that’s not their fault, and they’re still here, for me to learn from. And now we have Nellie too, I just, I don’t want them to get hurt again.”

“We're gonna make them proud, Neville. That's a promise.”

Neville nodded and patted Harry on the shoulder, “I’m certain your parents are proud too. Sirius and Regulus are, Remus too, even though you terrify Molly a bit with all we get sucked into.”

Harry nodded and let out an awkward chuckle, “Ya, managed to stumble through so far.”

Neville shrugged, “No better than they did. They were just a few years older than we are now.”

Harry smirked, “Let’s just not start having babies just yet.”

Neville chuckled, “Yes, lets.” Following Harry with a smirk, “Though they would be adorable.” Making Harry chuckle.

Catching up to the group sheepishly Harry approached Ginny’s side asking, “So, when we get to Hogsmeade where did you want to go first?”

A soft blush spreading across her cheeks as she remembered the note Harry had passed her after two days of being unable to speak to her when he’d finally realized his feelings were more than just that for his best friend’s kid sister. Of course she jumped at the chance for a date with him and broke his silence with a goodnight peck on his lips before darting off to her dorm at curfew the night before. Their day was soon planned out along with a stolen moment when you and Harry would meet up with a journalist from the Quibbler to answer a great deal of questions for a full exclusive of the teens being targeted by the Ministry.

…

All it took was a week and the issue exploded lifting the popularity of the Quibbler over night. And along with it in nine days time brought on a full weeks detention from Umbridge when she learned of it. Though with her deduction of points Professors Sprout, Flitwick, Trelawney all took to awarding other students in your houses to help make up for the difference for varying reasons through the day to do so without raising her suspicions.

Proclamation 27 came down, and with it brought on the banned Quibbler being disguised and smuggled into the school anyways as it seemed to be the only publication out of Fudge’s grasp since the break out. Under accusations of giving false statements the one last glimmer of freedom was snatched away, banned from Hogsmeade you both were set back even more. Though upon hearing word that you were banned the shops there updated their mail ordering catalogs, just for Hogwarts use for you and the others banned form the town for their supporting your claims to keep up their business and show their support in some small way with a promise of discrete delivery no matter the sizes of the orders.

…

No matter the fractions of hope more darkness seemed to seep into the school growing eerily quieter each day, as if you were on the cusp of something and the school was readying itself. Upon threat of punishment for her parents in the Ministry Marietta Edgecombe copied the list of members for Dumbledore’s Army and handed it over. In a hurry after having done so to warn the others she was only met by the sight of charmed howlers ordering each member to the Headmaster’s Office.

All together you strolled cautiously through the halls sitting empty at the order for the other students to head to their dorms straight after dinner, even if they had classes that were now rescheduled. At the number of you it became clear you had been outed and no doubt all in hushed conversation readied to be given the boot from the school.

Up the spiral staircase you filed into the office finding Dumbledore strolling away from his Pensieve he had been emptying into jars he sent off to who knows where saying to the students, “It appears we seem to be at an impasse students.” His head nodded as he added to the sound of Umbridge’s nearing giggle at something Fudge was saying, “Hold firm we can ride this out.”

His eyes flinched from you then back to Umbridge entering surrounded by Kingsley and another Auror on his right named Dawlish.

Umbridge smirked at Dumbledore passing Fudge the copied list, “Been watching them for weeks. And see, ‘Dumbledore's Army’...proof of what I've been telling you right from the beginning, Cornelius.”

Fudge, “All your fear-mongering about You-Know-Who never fooled us for a minute. We saw your lies for what they were: A smokescreen for your bid to seize control of the Ministry.”

Dumbledore’s head tilted slightly, “Naturally.”

Harry, “No, Professor. He had nothing to do with it. It was me.”

Dumbledore patted his shoulder and nudged him back to your side clearing the path between him and the Aurors, “Most noble of you, Harry, to shield me, but as has been pointed out the parchment clearly says "Dumbledore's Army," not "Potter's." I instructed Harry to form this organization. And I, and I alone, am responsible for its activities.”

Fudge, “Dispatch an owl to the Daily Prophet. If we hurry, we should still make the morning edition. Dawlish, Shacklebolt, you will escort Dumbledore to Azkaban to await trial for conspiracy and sedition.”

Cutting off your groups’ attempts to speak Dumbledore proper his hands on his hips, “I thought we might hit this little snag. You seem to be laboring under the delusion that I'm going to... What was the phrase? Come quietly. Well, I can tell you this: I have no intention of going to Azkaban.”

Fudge, “Enough of this. Take him.”

In their move to draw their wands Fawkes took off and lit on fire soaring over Dumbledore’s head allowing him the chance to clap his hands on his tail feathers to aparate in an untraceable way off to your home.

The burst of flames from the escape sending the Aurors and Minister to the ground with Umbridge. In their rise Kingsley stated, “Well, you may not like him, Minister...but you can't deny...Dumbledore has got style.”

Turning to look you all over Umbridge smirked saying, “Ah, yes, just in time for detention.” A cursed pack of books in her hand while desks appeared in the office while Fudge raced off back to his office to send off the story of Dumbledore being on the run.

…

On their feet while Umbridge stepped out into the hall to read a letter freshly arrived through the fireplace Ron said, “Harry. You did everything you could. No one could win against that old hag.”

Hermione, “Even Dumbledore didn't see this coming. Harry, if it's anyone's fault, it's ours. Yeah, we talked you into it.”

Harry, “Yeah, but I agreed. I tried so hard to help, and all it's done is make things worse. Anyway, that doesn't matter anymore. Because I don't want to play anymore. All it does is make you care too much. And the more you care, the more you have to lose. So maybe it's just better to...”

Ron, “To what?”

You replied for him, “To go it alone.” Harry nodded as you looked at the door still keeping you inside, “But no,” his brows inched up, “That’s just what they want. For us to be alone. Alone we’re less of a threat.”

Fred crouched by the desk of a young boy stated, “Your hand's gonna be fine, Michael.” Seeing him stroking the scars there from the cursed book etching the moral of the turbulent and mentally jarring tale you all had to live through in what seemed to have been years within the hour time limit.

George, “Yeah. It's not as bad as it seems. See?”

Fred, “It's fading already.”

They both said, “You can hardly see ours anymore, and the pain stops after a while.”

The door opened and with a wide grin Umbridge read off, “Educational Decree Number Twenty-Eight passed by Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge making Dolores Umbridge Headmistress of Hogwarts School.” Her eyes shifting over you all, “This will be the headline across the Prophet by sunrise, and now, some long overdue humble pie. As I told you once before, Mr. Potter children deserve to be punished.”

Harry, “So what, you’re going to expel us?”

She shook her head, “Not all of you.” Her eyes narrowing as they fell on you, “Just the head of the Hydra. The source of the poison corrupting this school. The one whose arrival here has stirred up more mischief and delinquency than any other student in the history of the school.” In taking a step closer to you she extended a letter to you, “Miss Black, you are hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will collect your belongings and be escorted from the premises.”

In your glance at Dawlish and Kingsley you said, “I wonder, have you ever considered you might be wrong?” Her lips parted and you shook your head, “Just curious, if, I was telling the truth. I wonder what depths you would sink to in hopes of protecting yourself from them.” Her eyes narrowed at you as you said, “One flaw in your plan is, you can knock me down and try to darken my name, but I’m still going to save you.” The students behind you shifted on their feet wondering why you would protect her as you stepped closer to her making her extend her useless wand at you, “For one reason alone, to see your face, yours and Fudge’s, when you see that I’m right, and you left the door wide open for him to stroll right back in.”

In their silence Fred stated, “You know, George...I've always felt our futures lay outside the world of academic achievement.”

George, “Fred, I've been thinking exactly the same thing.”

“All right, Professor! Here you go.”

They both stated with smirks behind you, “Ready when you are.” All shifting into Phoenixes to soar out the open balcony door to aparate off home while Wildfire Whiz-bangs soared off through the halls chasing her out of the office the teens hurriedly followed, seeing the minefield of charms leading up to her pink kitten decorated office surrounded by a portable swamp charm. In a zap your things were sent home while Cedric took the position of head of the group at your previously laid plans in case she had ever expelled you to keep the others safe and prepared for anything.

Straight through the door of your bedroom you had all aparated to you shifted and strolled though the halls and down the steps to find Albus speaking with your father, Regulus and Remus who all stood when they saw you. Albus, “I had hoped you would get more time in the school.”

You shook your head and George answered, “Impatient little woman that one.”

Sirius hurried over and hugged you three tightly, “They’ll change their minds. Sooner rather than later, can’t be long now.”

Regulus nodded as you were freed, “Either way no doubt you can still have your lessons mailed home, just to keep up.”

You three nodded and Remus eyed you all, “Best you try to sleep. We can have a family meeting with Molly and Arthur over breakfast.”

Turning around you strolled up to your room again where you all settled into sharing your bed to sit up discussing your plans for what to do to keep busy out of school. That conversation didn’t last long as only a few minutes after you had lounged back against your pillows Idris began to hum and you all drifted off to sleep.

Upon news of your expulsion a full out war was called on Umbridge to make her regret ever entering the school. Even against her tries to form an Inquisitorial Squad of Slytherins to bully and spy on the others innumerable pranks, tricks and incidents befell the new Headmaster. In your absence Peeves led the others in the war guiding them on the best times and hiding spots of her paths he had already memorized after spying on her for so long. From bursting out of blackboards, pushing over statues, toppling neatly stacked piles of parchment into fires to blowing raspberries every time she spoke Peeves held a busy day but enjoyed every moment of it feeling a great lack of luster in the school after you four had left.

A try for a Minister order to banish Peeves was tried and failed miserably as he was manifested by the school and first students themselves in their repressed delinquency at molding into the rigorous school list from being at home constantly. And to add insult to injury the school sealed up the Headmaster’s office out of her access even from the balcony leaving her to rule over the school from her own tiny powder pink office causing her to throw an amusing right little tantrum.

Professors who hated her before adored the chance for a bit of revenge, her orders to sweep the school for any traps you had left for her was met with an outright aloof sigh that none of them had the ‘authority’ to do so only reminding her of her magical block in each time she felt the urge to hex one of them. Favors, house points and sweets for those objecting against Umbridge were gifted from the Professors as a sort of enforcement to remain steadfast against her. Flitwick especially loving to pass out Sugar Mice upon his favored students casting several advanced charms to obscure her way while he treasured the swamp you had left he saved a small portion of upon an Auror’s arrival to aid in its reversal.

A shared dream of Rookwood sharing news of the Department of Mysteries and the Hall of Prophecies, in which you knew an item he hoped to lure Harry into taking for himself, came with a hope he was keeping up his Occlumency lessons A letter to Harry shared you knew what he had seen and understood it followed by your hope that he would continue his lessons with Snape in hope of protecting himself in your distance from him. Questions of course were the response. Directed to Sirius and Remus as to how his father truly was after seeing that at least to Snape he was arrogant and cruel seemingly without reason. One single sneak of a glance into Snape’s pensieve and that was the only thing on his mind, learning the truth about the man he resembled so closely.

Next clearly came a question as to why Snape was targeted by them. Sharing his concerns however only seemed to worsen his worries at having to wait while heading off to his bed to get away from Hermione who struggled to accept Harry’s sneaking through Snape’s memories and his lenience with his lessons knowing how hard you try on yours.

Astronomy class however at midnight grew to quite a commotion as on the first of December Hagrid’s hut was approached by five Aurors, all of whom stunned to find, upon your warning, the hut empty without any trace of Hagrid.

***

Morning after expulsion had you three jolting from sleep at Molly’s shout of, “Expelled?!”

Grumbling in your pile of covers and limbs you shifted free of the covers and hurried to brush your teeth and head down for the breakfast K was making to celebrate your first meal home again. Arthur smiled at you three saying, “I am certain this will be over soon enough, and then it can easily be overturned.”

To which Albus agreed, a curious glance from Molly had her asking, “Any more dreams?”

You shook your head, “No, though I had a question, how do I know Rookwood?”

Regulus, “Augustus Rookwood?” You nodded, “He was a spy in the Ministry.”

“Which department?”

Arthur, “The only one that matters most likely to him, Department of Mysteries.”

Molly, “Odd feeling about him?”

You shook your head then glanced at Regulus, “Only that he might not be so useful before long.”

Regulus nodded, “He did write to me. Hoping to avoid that end.”

Albus asked aloud, “How could he possibly be useful?”

You shrugged and said, “Not a clue, but soon we can find out. Even something trivial for the time being.”

Regulus added cream to his mug and stirred it with his finger saying, “He is quite adept with maps, we could keep him occupied if Riddle suddenly gets finicky around him.”

“Shouldn’t be hard.”

Fred, “They all in that mansion, hidden away?”

Regulus nodded, “Yup. Best they stay there too. Even if they could cross the borders of our lands I doubt for the few moments until they are ejected would be pleasant.”

Sirius sighed, “I am not overly fond of the notion of Bella being loose, however, I suspect her focus will be more on Riddle than anything else.”

You nodded and raised your own mug, “Ya, got that. Narcissa said she’d try to remind her of that. To keep her busy. Might free up Peter a bit.”

At his name your father subtly flinched at the lingering bite in your tone you’d yet to lose in saying his name away from him. A timid trust was now between you and as your key informant with the greatest trust and a direct channel to Riddle had him in a safe place for now aiding you both greatly as the painful past had to be overseen for his motives in his choice at the impossible decision of watching Riddle’s attacks on your mother to keep you hidden. Sirius inhaled then asked as aloofly as he could muster, “How is Peter?”

“Getting used to his new hand, apparently Riddle rarely is without him. Had to write me in the toilet, burned a mental pulse of what he hoped to write me in a slip of paper.”

George, “He’s getting better at it.”

Fred, “Last one was terribly jumbled, had to pop in to copy it straight form his mind.”

Remus, “And they aren’t expecting you back anytime soon?”

You shook your head and Regulus answered, “No, best to keep a wide berth. Mainly slipped notes and letters for now. Even Riddle’s testy on getting her around the escapees.”

Molly lowered her mug then asked you, “This ghoul blood you mentioned, is that what’s making him so focused on you?”

Regulus shook his head, “Not yet.” You looked to him, “No, apparently Riddle was more obsessed with Jewels than the Potters back then. Never let up on her. Used to spend hours tracing back the family tree, even looked up the Evans’.” In a glance at Sirius with his jaw clenched Regulus added reluctantly, “She’s family. One thing she’s got over Bella on him, blood.” To help ease Sirius some more he added, “Veela does help too. Might have a stronger pull, ghouls to flock to them when they can find one.”

The mail broke through your conversation and you all dug into it sharing bits and pieces until you three lit up at having the final copies of your ownership documents in your hands for the shop of your dreams you had decided to go drop in on today with Arthur and Sirius as the others went off to work and Albus went back up to his room.

Comfortably dressed Fred, George, you, Sirius and Arthur strolled through the streets up to the grin inducing purple corner building. Up the steps you trotted to the door your relative opened with a wide grin. Inside the usually scarcely filled sales floors scattered with random patches of furniture seemed to welcome you with a flicker of the lights and while George accepted the keys your relative collected his trunks in a mokeskin pouch and beamed all the way out the door to hurry off to catch his train to his retirement.

All together you strolled through ensuring the closed sign was up for you to start laying the enchantments on the building casting hidden draconic runes along the walls and outer foundations. Each floor you strolled through marking chalk outlines on the floor for certain sections for your wares and explored the four story building.

A shuffle of floating furniture lingering behind was arranged to accommodate the displays. Tiny flags on sticks hovered above the sections for another run through stroll through each to mentally map it out before you copied it all down on paper and packed it all away in a trunk on each floor left for selling and you all took the stroll to head down the street to the enchanted paint shop.

Nipping at your lips you eyed the selections of colors to match the sketches you had already decided on months prior in your journal packed with all the plans. Beaming behind you your fathers watched you hand over the list of what you needed with a few additions for tiny accents or signs in shimmering or color changing paint, even one with disappearing paint for a sign that is more of a mirage depending on where you stand.

The wide spread of paint floated around you on the stroll back to the building seemingly shivering the dust off its outer bricks and shingles in your return. The brown signage above the door now bearing the lettering you had chosen for it soon to be added to with the moving sculpture in a few days. Back through the door you each took a section on the first floor and with the windows open freeing the sound of the radio in the middle of the floor playing through your painting spree on the self dusted walls, shelves and borders adding to the visual separations of sections. Outside more and more people strolled by eyeing the posters you had set up listing your opening in the near future stirring up a buzz through the streets.

From floor to floor you painted and then moved onto the floating signs you had already cut out in the summer months, in which you had already constructed the final touches to the displays. True you didn’t have a full four story shop’s worth of goods yet but what you had for the first two with a small selection for the future third floor that could surely grant you a cushion to complete the rest.

Leaving it for a few hours to let it dry you were off to a diner nearby. Around you the keeps from the other shops on lunch as well along with a few random customers all stole chances to pass by or scoot closer to your table asking about the new shop after having shared a uniform comment that it was madness to have expelled you three.

Pt 47

#Umbridge #Order of the Phoenix

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all-of-the-imagines-for-eve · 5 years

Text

Forget About It ~ Sweet Pea (Part 1)

A/n: Whoa I kinda died huh? Got sucked into IT for a long time. And then the Umbrella Academy happened. And then I got hit with MAJOR depression and really heavy, bad vibes from all the dark stuff and tried to get super engrossed in lighter stuff like My Babysitter’s a Vampire but then that show ended in the DUMBEST way so in desperation I’ve returned for my fluff ball of love. Prepare for emotions.

Warnings. A! N! G! S! T! Arguing. Awkwardness. Violence, threatening, Archie Andrew’s weird red circle and gun phases. Panic attack. Fear. Betrayal. Abandonment. Archie Andrews being an idiot actually-

Pairings: Sweet Pea x Female Andrews!Reader

Song: "Forget About It" by All Time Low

Word Count: 4800+

MASTERLIST

One, two, three! You, are a handful of roses, thorns in a cheap bouquet. True, I'm a walkin' disaster- they told you to stay away. Seems like I'm makin' a deal with the devil who's whispering softly to me, "Are you sure that she's the one?"

You’d think things were insane enough as it is. But, no, my brother was nothing if he wasn’t one to add on top of already existing problems. The Black Hood was out there somewhere, closing in and leaving a path of destruction in his wake. Our dad was in a bed recovering from a shot wound and I couldn’t get my brother to eat or sleep let alone put down the pure - kind of terrifying - insanity with the whole Red Circle stuff. After the video, I’d been keeping a close eye on Archie, going as far as to stalk him. Following him around. Checking his phone. If I did sleep, I slept very close to where he was. I was so worried and cautious that it made me crazy... the problem was that I was right.

Despite the fact that I had reason to act the way I did, we’d still been getting into more fights recently and I felt like a jealous, controlling girlfriend he was about to break up with any second... but I also felt absolutely terrified. I was watching my brother - the Mr. Cute and Perfect I’d always admired and looked up to and wanted to be and leaned on and depended on (some kids asked what mom or dad or Jesus would do, but my first thought used to be, "What would Archie do?") - fall apart, piece by piece. I found myself falling apart with him.

So, despite the million reasons to stay back and take care of myself and my friends (who were also seriously struggling), I found myself helicopter hovering over my dumbass older brother, staying on his heels even as he brought both of us into the South Side.

Initially he caught me off guard, tricking me into feeling complacent, sending me in to make dinner just to sneak off with a big black bag. It wasn’t until I finished the grilled cheese sandwiches that I returned to where I’d left him, only to find him gone. I tore through the whole house but... no sign. Because of my close attentiveness of my brother, I knew about absolutely everything. I hadn’t told anyone in fear of getting him in trouble, but I knew. I knew him so well these days that it was as if it was my own mind with my own ideas telling me to go to the South Side when I asked myself, "What would Archie do?" It made me flinch to realize that for the first time, I wasn’t doing the good thing. The honorable thing. I wasn’t using Archie as an example to be better. I was stooping to the level he’d lowered himself to, just to find him and drag his moronic, seemingly psychotic self back home and smack some damn sense into him.

And so, sleep deprived and hungry and ANGRY, I found myself running full speed as I spotted my red haired brother so I could catch up with him as he spray painted a wooden door with a huge red circle. Oh god...

Catching his arm, I pulled him away from the door. "Archie what the HELL?" I screeched.

He didn’t seem to register me for a beat but when it clicked, he was only looking at me a second. "Y/n? What are you-?" His eyes left me fluidly as if he hadn’t been that focused on me to begin with. His arm dropped to wrap around me, scooting me behind him. I turned around to see three boys approaching. It was dark, but I recognized the look of the jackets and one of their faces seemed very briefly familiar. With Archie setting me on edge, I’d spent more time with Betty and Jughead before I’d full deep dived into watching him. I’d met Toni once and these boys had that vibe. That look. Not something that was physical, like most people would see, but a way they carried themselves. The way the confidence and power settled in their hands and in their expressions. Something you could sense. Could feel in the very air around them. They were strong, at home, and in complete control.

Serpents.

I’d never been scared of the Serpents. I feared them in a respectful way. I kept my distance and my head down. I’d seen them at the Drive In before it closed down and, as previously mentioned, I’d met Toni one other time. So I’d seen them around, but I’d always kept my distance. Toni was a serpent but she was small and a generally sweet person who avoided trouble when she could. She was almost comfortable to be around. Real and genuine- a breath of fresh air after living in a plastic world that demanded too much at too high a price. A world that demanded perfection. Toni was pleasant to be around, even when she was pissed at Jughead- I usually sided with her anyway just because I thought everyone was dumb most days. These erpents weren't Toni though. Not in anyway. These Serpents were tall and built and terrifying. I felt myself cowering behind Archie as I would at school as he blocked me from Cheryl or Reggie. Archie had always been my protector and even in his unstable mental state I still had a sliver of faith in him.

"What the hell are you doing?" The tallest snapped in a commanding voice that made me swallow hard after a lump formed in my throat.

Archie shook his head and my eyes flickered to the spray can in his hands. "Hey back off, I’m not here for you." I tugged on his arm and he seemed ready to move on and past the boys, maybe more because I was here than he felt done with how well he’d made his bold, red statement.

"Oh yeah?" The tall Serpent sneered. "Then who’s this message for?" He motioned to the paining on the door and I gulped again, still trying to get rid of that lump in my throat. This was gonna get ugly. Archie’s body tensed under my hands. When the boy realized what Archie had painted, his voice grew quieter, and it seemed even scarier than the loud aggressiveness he’d spoken with before. The calm before the storm. The hiss before the bite. "Aw, hell, don’t tell me this is for the Black Hood?" I cringed at the name of my father’s almost murderer and the boy looked at me, an eyebrow popping up. I tugged on Archie’s arm again but he was refusing to budge. The boy’s words were getting under Archie’s skin. My anxiety was rising. After Archie realized the boy was looking at me he moved to block me better. The Serpent’s attention returned to the tagging. "You believe this guys?" He asked his friends mockingly. "And people say we’re the troublemakers." There was a pause as Archie silently tried to move past them to make a show of his man power or whatever. Too scared to approach I let go of him, staying where I was. I was relieved when they caught him, the tall one uttering a, “Whoa," as they did so. The trouble was still brewing, the steam and bubbles of the boiling water slamming against the lid and threatening to explode any second... but at least I wasn’t alone. "South Side Serpent country," the boy eased. But then his voice changed again. Threatening. Heavy. Dark. Dripping with anger and unspoken threats... No, not threats. Promises. "You can’t come here and tag our turf." I suddenly felt sick, realizing that Archie was trying to KEEP GOING when all I wanted to do was go home. What drugs was he ON?! "So get your ass back to the North Side," the Serpent continued venomously. His eyes found me again as a I took a step back, trying to become smaller and smaller until I could just disappear. "Before someone gets hurt."

My eyes went wider, my blood running cold. Maybe Archie could fight these guys off but I couldn't. "Arch," I whispered. "You shouldn't have come here, let's just-"

"Get out of my way,” Archie seethed, cutting me off. His breathing was ragged and I took another step back, startled by how Archie suddenly felt even more a threat then the Serpents he was facing.. "Or someone will get hurt."

The Serpent stepped forward, inhaling to speak again and I found myself panicking, surging forward to place myself between them. The Serpent stepped back but Archie was solid. I wondered if he even recognized that it was me standing there or if he just thought of me as an obstacle. My body began shaking, my eyes staring holes into my brother’s skull. "Archie, this is crazy," I croaked out. "Let’s go home. You’ve caused enough trouble for one night. You made your point. PLEASE!"

The Serpent smiled. "Listen to the girl. Go run home to daddy before things get ugly." And he drew a knife, the blade hoverijg near my arm.

Well shit.

I felt it before I saw it. Felt my brother’s arms move, felt the air snap and change as the tension broke and Archie’s last chord of either self control or sanity - or perhaps simply both - flew free of it’s tethering post, no longer holding Archie back. The gun was in his hand, the barrel sliding back loudly in my ear to make sure we all knew it was loaded. I choked on a scream and stumbled back, toward the Serpents. "Who made the mistake? WHO MADE THE MISTAKE?!"

“Arch-" I tried. But then his eyes turned on me and I tripped, taking more steps backward. He looked so angry. So driven by pure rage and so far past a simple breaking point that I didn’t see my brother anymore. The Archie I knew and loved and looked up to was simply... gone. And a monster was in his place. It wasn’t the gun that scared me, but the maniac that wielded it. I expected the barrel to suddenly turn and point at me, his hand to come down on the trigger. I whimpered, the sound high and quiet and wet.

I tripped, falling on my ass, and cried out in pain. That seemed to knock Archie out of it. The tears started to fall and I curled in on myself, arms over my head and knees pulled to my chest. I was crying an shaking violently. I’d been under too much pressure with the looming threat of a murder leisurely wandering around my town on top of almost losing my father to have the human equivalent of my security blanket turn violent against me. I felt a hand on my arm and I squealed, cringing away from it and shaking harder. "I..." Archie whispered. "I’m sorry." And then in a last bang of blazing idiocy, to top off all of the shit he’d pulled tonight, he left me. Alone. Mid breakdown. At night. On the South Side. WITH Serpents. After he’d waved a gun around and it had been established that we were both North Siders and knew each other.

When nothing happened I slowly looked up. The three Serpents were in front of me, the tall one still holding the drawn blade. "Please don’t hurt me," I croaked out. "You have no reason not to, but, please..." My habds reached out, palms open as if to push him away. My habds shook in the air.

Instantly the boy’s face softened. He kneeled down in front of me, his hand reaching out. My eyes flew to the blade and he frowned, withdrawing his hand. He held the knife out in front of me and then turned it, holding the blade toward him and offering it to me. I looked between him and it a few times. "Take it," he encouraged. "That way you won’t feel defenseless."

My head popped up so my words wouldn’t be muffled as I spoke softly. "I don’t want to hurt you either. Can we just agree not to hurt each other? I don’t want a knife just as I don’t want you to have a knife pointed at me. Why is it always violence with you people? God..."

The boy seemed to grow five years younger than when he had faced Archie, his face relaxing even more in surprise this time. He tilted his head, intrigued, and then the blade was gone and he put the sheathed weapon in his pocket. "Look, you’re cold and scared and... why are you out here?"

My face darkened. "My brother is a fucking psychopath," I spat. Emotions were ramming against my insides, controlled but painful to keep in. And after losing Archie to whatever madness he’d finally succumbed to, this boy no longer looked at all threatening. I wanted to trust him and he looked so human and normal and kind that I let myself trust him, even though a small part of the back of my brain screamed hysterically for me to keep being diligent. Even if he was a good person, he was still a Serpent and this place was still dangerous. He could turn on me any second. He was a stranger. And yet I ignored that part of my brain and trusted him anyway. "Came to stop him. Save him, maybe. From himself." My eyes unfocused as I stared through my fingers, past the boy who's name I still didn't know. "Guess I forgot to keep myself safe." I whispered that, my voice sounding far away and almost distorted.

Heavy silence fell and it was weird to feel so comfortable with these boys when just ten minutes ago I’d placed Archie between us as protection. So much had changed in just a minute. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling anymore. Except cold. I was feeling cold. I shivered again, more forcefully. The boy sighed, hanging his head for a second before looking at his friends and then back at me. "My name is Sweet Pea. Can you trust me?" I paused and then shrugged, nodding. "It’s late. Do you want to go home? I can take you..." my eyes went wide and he nodded. "Thought so. Is there anyone at home you should be worried about keeping him alone with?" I shook my head. Despite his breakdown, Archie wouldn’t shoot our dad. The boy nodded, moving and shifting around. I realized what was happening when he put his jacket around me, moving to my side. My hands were still in the air and it felt silly but my body was locked, unresponding. "Will you come with me? I know we’re strangers but I’m not gonna leave some little thing like you to roam around the South Side and find some hole to sleep in because you’re too scared to go home." He pressed his hand against mine, using touch to knock me out of it. My other hand dropped, my body relaxing. He was warm. "I won’t hurt you, okay? I just want you to be safe." He was quiet and gentle and when our eyes met, I felt... I couldn't put a name to it.

I nodded and he stood, pulling me after him. Our hands dropped away from each other. I looked at him, cocking my head. "Why are you helping me? My brother just..." my throat closed, refusing to allow me to say it.

Sweet Pea frowned. "He’s a genuine lunatic, sure. But you��re terrified and shaken up real bad." He paused. "I guess I can’t look at a lost person and not offer my help."

Our eyes met again and we stared at each other with mutual intrigue, like we saw something in the other that drew us in and was confused by it. I was suddenly realizing he looked different than when I first saw him, more than just younger abd less intense. The strength that accompanied the kindness in Toni was mirrored perfectly in Sweet Pea. A big, friendly giant. I was stunned to remember that his tall, muscly build had scared me before. He was so gentle and kind. I don’t know what he saw in me, but two strangers had met and suddenly become acquaintances under a truce in a split second. Half of me felt it was deliciously dangerous, dancing like this with a Serpent. The other half of me was tired and wanted to feel safe, just for a second. Both sides agreed that it was odd that I found that need for safety in the dark color of his eyes. "Yeah," I voiced finally. "Yeah that’s okay." Sweet Pea nodded, his hand moving to my back to guide me with the smallest amount of pressure he could while still applying it at all. I stepped closer to him, taking comfort in his warmth. His hand pressed harder to me, more protective.

I don’t know what just happened, but this definitely would not be the last time I would see Sweet Pea. I wouldn’t allow it.

Amidst all the chaos, I found myself on the South Side a lot more than I had reason to be. The night Sweet Pea and I met, he took me home. I collapsed on the couch, curling in a ball and hiding under his jacket. There was a pause before he mumbled, "I was gonna offer you the bed but... okay." I thought he was going to be gone for the rest of the night when I heard him leave, but only a moment later his footsteps pattering against the trailer floor was heard as he returned. I peeled out of the jacket to see him with a pillow and blanket, offering it to me. I sat up, the jacket falling into my lap as I took the offerings with a small smile. I put them down next to me on the couch before raising the jacket, offering it in return. He paused for a second. "Keep it for tonight," he told me.

My eyes had widened. "But it’s your Serpent jacket."

Sweet Pea paused for a second before he sat on the table next to he couch so he wouldn’t tower over me so much. "You feel safe in it huh? Like, more than a jacket has ever made you feel before." I paused and then realized he was right, nodding. He smiled. "That jacket means a lot more than just what it actually is. I first got that jacket after joining the Serpents to support my mom. I was too young to do anything else, and the Serpents already had so many of my friends - my family. So I joined because that’s what we are. A family. A united force. That jacket is the only thing in this entire world that has ever made me feel safe." He paused. "You need to feel safe. And as far as I’m concerned, here, you are safe. Always. I don’t like your brother and I don’t like that someone as good as you has to deal with him." He smiled, his nose scrunching, and a funny feelings bloomed in my stomach and chest, spreading throughout my body very slowly. The feeling was new but pleasant. "You’re not a normal North Sider."

I smiled. "Thank you."

He nodded, standing. "Just don’t run off with it."

My smile widened and he seemed to forget how to walk for a split second as he looked at me. "Promise." If an hour before this someone had told me I’d be in a Serpent’s trailer, sleeping on a couch with a blanket and a pillow, taking comfort from a Serpent jacket, I would have laughed so hard I’d peed myself, and then I’d have avoided that person for the next ever because I would have been worried they were crazy or on drugs. But that night I slept better than I had every night since Jason Blossom had died. For once the whole world simply faded out and I slipped into a dreamless sleep that was refreshing and peaceful and nothing else.

He fed me breakfast the next day, insisting, and I had to admit he was a good cook. I’d called my dad after that, letting him know I was okay and delivering him some lie about crashing at Jughead’s after ranting to him about my stresses at school and in general. My dad sighed and seemed to not like the idea of me sleeping in the South Side but allowed it this time. Sweet Pea offered me a ride to school and I laughed, telling him no only because my brother would lose his SHIT if he saw Sweet Pea again. He insisted that he didn’t care what my brother thought but I didn’t want to drive Archie to tell my dad the truth about last night and upset him while he was recovering. He understood that and we agreed to compromise. He drove me all the way to the first houses in the North Side and I walked the rest of the way to school, thanking him for everything. He asked if I would visit again. I said maybe.

I didn’t. I wanted to, but I had so much sense and fear hit me after I got home again. My brother was still acting weird except that Veronica was in on it now. He made her aware of the gun and what happened and I sat in my bed upstairs, pretending I couldn’t hear them argue while dad went to some meeting at the school. I found myself wanting to be with Sweet Pea again and hated that my brain was defaulting to him as a safe place. Serpents weren’t safe. North and South siders didn’t mix. Especially me being Archie’s sister- it was a BAD IDEA! ...Yet I wanted it so badly.

So when I heard a knock at the door, I couldn’t even try to lie to myself as I flew from my bed, hoping it was him even though I knew what trouble and chaos it would cause if it was. I wanted him to be here, checking on me and making sure I was okay and ready to whisk me away to his cozy little home I wanted to go back to so badly. Veronica got to the door before me, revealing Reggie and the other Bulldogs with pizzas in tow. I felt sick to feel so disappointed, ignoring everyone else even as Reggie waved at me. They moved into the living room and I plopped on the steps, arms crossed over my knees and my chin resting on top. They were talking about supporting each other and I felt disgusted to be so close to them. They were STILL going after the Red Circle shit? SERIOUSLY?! What would it take for them to learn? Who would have to die?

Revving engines knocked me out of my train of thought but my anger was still there. I knew the engines were motorcycles only because I’d memorized each second of the sound while Sweet Pea had given me a ride to the boarder of the North Side, just like I’d tried to memorize every other detail of my time with him. I didn’t let myself think it was him this time though, instead falling into memory to satiate the ache I had now. I didn’t know him well and it wasn’t like I was about to claim I was in love with him, but he made me feel good and I hadn’t felt so in a long time. It was addicting.

Ronnie was first to the door again, calling Archie over "trouble". Putting together their talk of the Red Circle and what she would consider trouble worth warning Archie specifically, my head popped up and suddenly I was a lot more scared than hopeful. A part of me still wanted it to be him but now that it seemed it was, that half of me that wanted to avoid the ‘trouble’ it would ensue was pushy and demanding, screaming and overruling the other half. When the door opened, I shot to my feet and moved down to the last step of the stairs, my eyes on Sweet Pea instantly. I hadn’t realized just how handsome he was. That odd observation sunk in a second before Archie and Sweet Pea locked eyes and their passionate hate for each other exploded as tangible tension in the room.

"How stupid are you North Siders?" Sweet Pea snapped. He hadn’t seen me yet but it still felt like a slap in the face. I was a North Sider. Sweet Pea took a step closer to my brother. "You really think you can come to my house, stick a gun in my face, in front of my boys, and there wouldn’t be any pay back?" My stomach twisted, because honestly he had a point. I was still mad at Archie about that... even if it had brought me to meeting Sweet Pea.

Reggie grabbed the door, opening it wider to reveal the rest of the Bulldogs. "You really have crap timing bro," he told Sweet Pea slowly. Their voices were full of so much hate that I shivered, my breaths becoming more shallow. "Bulldogs eat Serpents for lunch." My fists clenched. My crazy brother and his stupid friends were threatening the Serpents. The only sane people in all of fucking Riverdale, who were protecting their home and their people from gun wielding maniacs like the idiot I was related to. I felt protective but suddenly torn. The Serpents weren’t my family. Archie was. Putting myself between them would make a statement, and there was no reason for the Serpents to take me in. Although I was fine leaving Riverdale high and my shell of a brother behind, leaving my dad behind was another story. So I stayed in place, my hands curling tighter and tighter as I tried to hold myself back.

"We’ll see," Sweet Pea cooed dangerously. "And the more the merrier." He had meant to look at the Bulldogs, challenging them, but as he took a step inside the house, his eyes landed on me. I only realized because I was staring daggers at the back of Reggie’s head, my face undoubtedly red with rage as I practically shook with how powerful the emotion was. I was glaring at Reggie and Archie and even Veronica and all these stupid North Siders I no longer wanted to be apart of when Sweet Pea stepped back, his movement catching my eye. Our gazes met and I softened instantly, my face exploding with agony and apology and regret.

I don’t know how he knew, but he seemed to know about me. Know what I was thinking and how I was feeling. Suddenly whatever invisible chord that had been between us, tying us together and gently pulling at us to return to each other, was now stronger. Thicker. Harder to ignore. For a split second he nodded to me and I don’t know what he was confirming exactly but I know that my decision was made when it came to my brother. When it came to Archie. This Archie that was twisted. This Archie who was dark and dangerous and threatening and crazy. This Archie that was not mine. This Archie I would not claim even if it meant siding with people who were practically strangers.

Veronica set some ground rules, which I was thankful for. We all filtered out of the house. Archie reached out to stop me but I jerked away from him, glaring at him ferociously. He physically stuttered, his body processing the hateful look I gave him. One he had never seen on my face. One he could not even imagine me showing, let alone directing at him. Despite that, Reggie offered me a ride since I made it aparant without words that I was going- even if I had to go by foot. So we all made our way to the hidden corner Sweet Pea had out for the fight. And everyone took their side, Veronica far behind the Bulldogs in her cloak. I moved to the side, far out of the fight still but not behind the Bulldogs. Archie threw the first lunch and I took several steps back to separate myself even more as the two groups converged on each other.

I didn’t like violence. I never did. The fighting made me sick, my face twisting with distaste and I want as I rejected the scene before me. Dilton was was suddenly bleeding, his knife buried in him. And then there was a gun shot and I jumped, soaking wet from the rain as the Serpents scattered, Sweet Pea calling a retreat when we all saw Veronica with the gun in the air. Bulldogs ran to their cars to help Dilton. Archie called to me. I stumbled back, away, eyes wide with fear and hate. Violence. All this violence. All this aggression and it was getting us NOWHERE. It was causing endless problems and issues and I hated all of it. I hated all of them. He called my name again and I turned first toward the North Side. But the Bulldogs were that way. My brother and his friends were the North Side. The Black Hood was the North Side. I turned away, running toward the South Side. And I didn’t stop running. Not even for a second.

"You know he’s trouble, right?" Betty told me one day. After the whole thing blew up, I’d called my dad and told him I couldn’t be home anymore. At least not for a little while. I had a panic attack over the phone and broke down and told him EVERYTHING and he paused before stating he understood. He asked where I’d stay and I told him I’d figure it out. The next hour after he hung up he called again to let me know Jughead was okay with me staying at his place until I felt good coming home again. He had always been a good dad. Understanding and supportive. These were extenuating circumstances. I was just glad that he let me get out of there. I might have strangled Archie in his sleep.

I was still going to Riverdale High, Sweet Pea giving me rides to the boarder as he did that first day. I avoided Archie at school and eventually he just gave me my space when all of his attempts failed. Sweet Pea and I began to hang out a lot though. Like, a lot. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed. Betty was the one who noticed, and, predictably, she had a word to put into the situation.

Shrugging, I didn’t even look at her to recognize that she had spoken as I focused on my homework. "We all have damage, Betty. I’m not pristine glass and smooth surfaces either." I looked her dead in the eye. "Maybe danger runs in the Andrews bloodline more than you think."

She didn’t have anything to say after that.

Forever Tag List: @bitchyseawitch @alexa-playafricabytoto @chipster-21

#sweet pea #riverdale #jordan connor #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #riverdale imagine #south side serpents #serpents imagine #serpents x reader #jordan connor imagine #jordan connor x reader

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brylcighs · 5 years

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✧·ﾟ( demeter + maia mitchell + cis female ) 𝒎𝒂𝒎𝒎𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒂 !! have you seen ( bryleigh fox ) around ? ( she ) has been in kaos for ( two months ). the ( twenty-four year old ) is a ( baker ) from ( boulder, colorado ). people say they can be ( stoic ) but maybe that’s not too bad ‘cause they can also be ( ebullient ). whenever i think of them, i can’t help but think of ( warm blueberry muffins, black and white movies, and sunny, cloud-free mornings ). ·ﾟ✧ ( penned by shiloh, 21+, est, she/her ).

trigger warnings: mental illness, ptsd, anxiety, depression, a car accident, health problems related to fertility, scars/burns, low self-esteem, drinking. ( i think that’s it, but if you run across something else triggering, pls let me know and i’ll add it to the list. )

THE MUN.

‘lo ! i’m shiloh, but you can call me shy. i’m 28, i live in the est and my preferred pronouns are she/her.

i’m a school-based therapist and work in an elementary school. with it being summer, i don’t really have a lot going on ! so you’ll see me around quite a bit.

i have two small puppos, minerva and newt, who are my pride and joy. p.s.: if you couldn’t tell from their names, i’m a huge harry potter fan. i also love young adult literature, i’m a true crime buff and could eat pepperoni hot pockets every day for the rest of my life.

if you’d like to talk, you can im me on this account, on my rph @shilohrph or ask me for my discord and we can chat there !

and without further ado, allow me to introduce lil miss bryleigh.

BASIC INFORMATION.

name: bryleigh olivia fox.

age: twenty-four.

gender/pronouns: cis femae & she/her.

orientation: panromantic pansexual.

olympian: demeter.

occupation: head baker at physis taverna.

faceclaim: maia mitchell.

BACKGROUND.

bryleigh olivia fox was born may 8th, 1995 at 10:12am in kaos, greece to colonel william matthew fox and emma alison stewart-fox.

she has one older brother, lucas daniel fox, who is 28 and an architectural engineer. he’s married to sofia maite valdez-fox, twenty-four. they have a one-year-old daughter, luciana irene fox.

bryleigh also has one younger sister, peyton emelia fox, who is 20 and a college student studying communications. she’s engaged to micah cole butler, twenty-two. they two-year-old twins addison hayley butler and aiden bryant butter. peyton is also currently 10 weeks pregnant.

because of her father’s occupation, the family has lived in different cities all over the world. besides kaos, the fox’s lived in bangkok, thailand, comayagua, honduras, misawa, japan, burkina faso, west africa, vicenza, italy and pampanga, philippines. i made a handy dandy timeline which you can view here to better break it down.

bryleigh attended and graduated from the auguste escoffier school of culinary arts in boulder, colorado and lived there for about four years.

while living in boulder, her roommate and best friend, sofia, started dating and subsequently married her brother, lucas.

because her aesthetic is running when things get tough/complicated, bryleigh left boulder a few months after ber brother and best friend were married and moved back to kaos, greece.

she lived in kaos for a year, living above the tavarna where she was head baker. she loved it and kinda looks back on it as the best time of her life. but a rough patch in a relationship caused her to - again - flee, returning to boulder.

about a month after moving back to boulder, she was in a serious car accident. her vehicle slid on black ice and flipped. she almost died, but managed to pull through.

on top a concussion, many broken bones, several severe burns, some internal bleeding and innumerable cuts, scrapes, and bruises, bryleigh’s pelvis was fractured and her fallopian tubes were crushed. she also later developed asherman’s syndrome from the surgeries/scar tissue forming. this has basically rendered her infertile.

after the accident, bryleigh had to move in with her brother and sister-in-law/former best friend. not only did they smother bry trying to take care of her, but sofia was pregnant at the time. this served as a constant reminder of all she’d lost.

so, as soon as she was cleared to be on her own, she told lucas and sofia that she was going to visit kaos for her birthday.

except that she was actually moving back there and didn’t want to have to deal with their worry and concern and attempts to talk her out of it. queen of running from her problems.

bryleigh has been back in kaos for about two months, and it’s not the carefree, serene place she remembered.

actually, that’s not true. it’s still the place she remembered. she’s just not the same person she once was. no matter how much she tries to pretend she is.

you can read more about her here if you feel so inclined.

PERSONALITY.

bryleigh is a bit of a complicated lil nugget. she’s like an onion, ya know ? she has layers. one one hand, she’s this bubbly, happy-go-lucky, upbeat ball of sunshine. but on the other hand, she’s really struggling with ptsd from the crash, as well as a good heaping of anxiety and depression. so she has times where she’s really distant and reticent.

as the ‘mom friend’, she’s always been the person that people turn to. she’s the shoulder to lean on. she’s the one who gives amazing advice. she’s the one who seems wise beyond her years. she’s the one who tells you to stop leaning back in your chair because you’re going to fall over or sets water and tylenol beside your bed after a night of partying. she cares a whole lot. like, an insane about. which is a blessing and a curse.

what she’s struggling with post-accident is opening up about how she’s doing and how she’s really feeling, beyond the facade that she puts on for everyone. it’s like she’s physically incapable of letting people see that she’s struggling. bry doesn’t want to put that burden on anyone, ya know ? so, she’s kind of suffering in silence and bottling everything up. which is super healthy, i know.

sarcasm and dry humor are two of her favorite coping skills. she’s also really great at self-deprecating humor !

the accident left her with quite a lot of scars and several skin grafts from having third-degree burns treated, and she’s incredibly self-conscious about them. she covers her low self-esteem up with jokes and humor, but she really is quite sensitive about her appearance.

as i mentioned, she tends to run from her problems rather than addressing them. and if she can’t run, she makes a joke out of them and doesn’t take them seriously. or she bottles up all the emotions from the problem and pretends it’s not a big deal. i know. her coping skills are so healthy.

the only thing that bryleigh has ever wanted is to be a mom. she’s basically had baby fever since she was old enough to understand the birds and the bees. she always imagined being a stay-at-home mom, taking care of a shew of children and her husband/wife. but since the accident, she’s not sure if that’s what she still wants of her life. she no longer has no direction, and really feels like she’s floundering.

part of her is worried about having kids ( through adoption or surrogacy or on the off-chance that she can naturally conceive ) because the hate in her heart after the accident is so dark and consuming and terrifying. she feels like maybe the car accident did more than break her bones. maybe it broke her as a person. and maybe she’s not capable of loving someone now. or if she is, she’s worried that what she loves will get taken from her. and she doesn’t know if she can stand to lose anything else.

EXTRA.

she starts every morning with a cup of black coffee and a banana nut muffin and ends every evening with a cup of peppermint tea and two homemade jaffa cakes.

bryleigh has a chocolate labrador retriever named yolo. he’s ancient. she’s not really sure how old he is, but the shelter she adopted him from said that he’d been there for several years. so, she absolutely had to take him home with her. yolo’s very loving and sweet and a lil lazy and he loves pitless olives. she has huge birthday parties for him on his gotcha day, august 12th.

her walls are covered with abstract art from a bunch of different countries. they remind her of her childhood and everywhere she’s traveled.

favorite thing in the world to do is have a bunch of her friends over, make a slew of homemade pizzas and desserts, pop open several bottles of rosé wine, throw pillows and blankets all over the floor and watch movies of various genres until everyone falls asleep.

she loves 80′s music and prefers to listen to records rather than stream music or what have you. it sounds more authentic that way. at least, in her opinion.

her apartment looks like a forest. she has plants everywhere. e v e r y w h e r e. she’s also a really good plant mom and has named all of her children. she talks to them and knows their favorite songs. maybe she’s a tad bit psychotic. who isn’t, though ?

since the accident, she’s developed a huge fear of driving. she won’t drive. ever. she either walks, rides her bike or takes an uber. if she can get away with not having to ride in a car, though, she much prefers that option. i mean, can you blame her ?

she loves astrology and tarrot readings and ghost hunts and talking about aliens and going on hunts for cryptids. she’s always thought there has to be more to life than what we can see, so she’s open to at least considering most everything, ya know ?

her closest friends call her foxy. everyone else calls her bry. some people call her bryleigh ? but i can’t imagine why. it’s a mouthful.

send her memes and you’ll have her heart. she has a huge folder of them saved on her phone. there might or might not be more memes on her phone than actual pictures. hint: there totally is.

bryleigh can speak english, spanish, filipino, greek, italian, thai, japanese, swahili, hausa and a little bit of a berber dialect to varying degrees of success. she’s most comfortable with english, spanish and greek, and least comfortable with the african languages. she can also write in a variety of writing systems, though not nearly as well as she can speak the languages. she’s forgotten a lot of the rules and method that go along with many of them.

PLOT IDEAS.

you can read about all my connection ideas right here !

NOTE: i’m open to pretty much anything, so if you have an idea, run it by me ! more than likely, i’ll approve and start rambling off ideas and headcanons and half-formed thoughts until you politely tell me to shut the fuck up. sounds fun, right ?

THE END.

thanks so much for reading this monster post ! i don’t know how to be concise. i’ve tried. i tried here. obviously, i failed. but i love you all. i can’t wait to write and interact with you all and your lovely, wonderful characters ! hasta la vista, baby.

#kaos:intro #╰ . * chasing all your demons — ooc .#╰ . * so let's sleep on it tonight — other .

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bahereviews · 5 years

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3 From Hell - 6 out of 10

Rob Zombie as a filmmaker has been an interesting thing to witness. From his debut film “House of 1000 Corpses” to his third entry to the Firefly Family series “3 From Hell.” There have been some stinkers and some winners depending on who you ask. Some may despise something others may cherish. Me personally? I sort of sit in the center. While I can certainly enjoy the insanity that Rob Zombie brings to his films, I can also spot the bad things about his films. Especially with “3 From Hell.” Crazed killers Baby Firefly, Captain Spaulding and Otis Driftwood unleash bloody mayhem after escaping from prison. Let’s jump in shall we?

SPOILERS AHEAD

From the moment the film ended, I felt that “3 From Hell” was a wholly unnecessary

sequel. Their violent demise in the finale of “The Devil’s Rejects” was a fitting end to the Firefly Family. More so now considering how they handled the death of Sid Haig’s popular Captain Spaulding. He is killed by means of lethal injection. Off screen might I add. There is only a brief interview between him and a hippie TV reporter in the beginning of the film where he’s able to spew off some of his incessant candor that we’ve come to love. But ultimately, his time on screen on this entry is limited to less than two minutes. Hell, maybe less. Compared to his valiant end in “The Devil’s Rejects,” I much prefer his character to have died there than on death row.

Replacing Captain Spaulding in the Firefly trio line up is the half brother of Otis and Baby. While his character is as sadistic and crazed and his extended family is, there is a noticeable absence; a void that could never be filled; once occupied by the legendary Captain Spaulding. But in real life, actor Sid Haig is getting up there in age. Hell, in the film he looks emaciated as hell. So perhaps it was for the best that his character die so early on in the film. Regardless, the characters of Otis and Baby do a fine job of keeping up the familial carnage on the road to Mexico.

Baby has somehow slipped further into insanity while Otis maintains his cool headedness. If you can call it that. He still enjoys torturing his poor victims both physically and mentally. Ultimately though, Baby takes the cake and steals the whole show. Despite the offensive visage of a white woman donning a Native American head dress during the bloody finale, you can’t help but cheer for our favorite psychotic antiheroes as they leave a bloody trail of carnage behind them. I found myself laughing at all of their maniacal antics.

The one thing that really stood out to me with this film was its color palette. It’s as if the editor turned the saturation up to 100% and then duplicated the effect to really sell it. The effect is so glaring that even the redness of people’s face are painfully and obviously exaggerated. Another thing I noticed was that the plot line of this film follows the plot line to “The Devil’s Rejects” to a certain degree. Especially the last half where a trio of main characters find sanctuary in a place they think is safe only to find that it isn’t safe, at which point they have to fend for themselves and fight their way out.

I feel Rob Zombie was trying to make a trilogy of different genres with each entry in his Firefly Trilogy. “House of 1000 Corpses” embraced the horror genre, “The Devil’s Rejects” embraced the thriller/killers-on-the-road genre, and “3 From Hell” embraced the western genre. Because that’s what this film feels like, a western. There’s a jail break, a shanty western town, and even a Mexican standoff that end brutality. Hell, Baby even dons a Native American head dress and takes down a few baddies with a bow and arrow. In the end though, “3 From Hell” is a totally unnecessary entry into a series that had its proper ending in the second film. But that doesn’t mean we won’t welcome our favorite psycho killers back to the big screen for more mindless violence. Mega fans will go see this film in theaters, casual movie goers will wait for its home video release. Which are you? :)

#3 from hell #rob zombie #house of 100 corpses #the devil's rejects #film #movie #review

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dionysus-is-my-dude · 5 years

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Hi, I’m Luna. And I’m psychotic...

I’m up past my bedtime. So I’m already loopy.

I was a weird kid. A WEIRD kid. I knew I was weird. My family knew I was weird. My teachers and classmates knew I was weird. I always seemed both behind and ahead of other kids my age. I was the teacher’s pet, always doing well in class, always wanting to learn, always wanting to participate. I was always an honour student and won awards for my schoolwork. But, amongst my peers, I seemed younger than them, mentally. While other girls were talking about boys and make-up and stuff like that, I was still wanting to have sleepovers, play pretend, and read scary stories to each other. I was both the “mom” friend and the “baby”. I cared so MUCH about fictional characters, but so very LITTLE about real people. I liked dark, scary things, but also Disney princesses. I went through so many “phases”: tomboy, goth, prep, emo, punk, idgaf.

Everyone else was finding out who they were, growing out of their childhood and into adulthood. They were learning to pay bills, to have sexual relationships, and other stuff that are practically “expected” of young people these days. But I was struggling believing I was the reincarnation of Jane Austin, or that I was an alien trapped in a human body. I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why everyone around me was growing and adapting as they got older, but I was still wanting to play on playgrounds, talk about space, play games, and have sleepovers where we sleep in the same bed. I get mocked by my family for liking Marvel so much, for not being “mature” enough to handle watching “Game of Thrones”, for loving Disney, and for wanting to stay home and write or craft all day instead of working.

For a really long time, I thought I was anything other than human: an alien, a fairy, a mermaid, an “Indigo Child”. I thought there HAD to be a strange reason as to why I’m just so different than everyone around me. I became a hypochondriac, thinking I was schizophrenic, or autistic. (No, I no longer think I’m autistic, guys.) I fit so many symptoms, but also not ENOUGH. I know for a FACT that I have psychotic depression, anxiety, OCD, ADD, agoraphobia, and sensory processing disorder. I’ve already been diagnoses with those.

I don’t know why I’m typing this all up instead of going to bed. I should’ve been in bed two hours ago. I just feel weird today for some reason. Maybe relief after a really, really stressful semester of college? I’ve been feeling really light and strange, and I’ve been watching videos about mental illness, and I’m writing an alien story and it’s got me thinking about myself again.

Psychotic depression is actually considered rare, even though, apparently, one in four patients with depression experience psychotic symptoms, too. My psychosis is mostly paranoia. I don’t like leaving the top floor of my house -my floor-, because I think someone will break in and attack me. I don’t like being in the dark because I think there’s a demon or something after me and just waiting to get me when I’m vulnerable. I think aliens are observing me at all times, especially on the flat ledges outside my rooms. I think that the government watches me and thinks I’m a threat.

Then there’s the delusions. I think I’m the reincarnation of princesses, of Jane Austin, and other important women in history. I think I’m this “saviour” of humanity, that I’m meant to bring about world peace. I think I’m the next step in human evolution (Indigo Child). I think that, if aliens were to visit me, they would take me away and teach me as one of their own. I think that I was never meant to be human, that I was meant to be something else, something purer and better than humans.

Then there’s the hallucinations. Yeah, I get ‘em. No voices or visuals. I smell and taste things that aren’t there. Usually sweets, which is abnormal apparently (most people smell terrible things), and cigarette smoke. I also feel touches when no one is around me. Like a hand on my shoulder or back. This really fuels my paranoia, making me think it’s a ghost or an alien.

I’m crazy. “No, Luna, don’t call yourself that. That’s offensive.” I’m gonna say it again: I’m crazy. I’m legally mentally ill and disabled. I’m insane. There are days where I’m extremely ashamed about that, and days where I tell total strangers about my mental illnesses. (I have a problem oversharing to people I don’t know very well because I’m so damn lonely.) I STILL sometimes spend hours online searching for an “answer” as to why I’m struggling so much. Could it just be my current mental illnesses that I’ve already been diagnosed with and am being treated for right now? Absolutely. There’s always new information coming out that my sponge-brain seeps up like liquid crack.

And yet...and yet...for all the information out there about my mental illnesses and disabilities, I still struggle. A LOT. And my family still mocks me. A LOT. And I know there are good times and bad times when it comes to mental illnesses, especially ones as serious as psychosis and anxiety, but...am I manic right now? I think I’m manic right now. But I’m not bipolar. Why am I still typing? It’s been half an hour since I last checked the time. I’m watching ironic tik toks on YouTube and not paying attention at all. That one was funny, though. Is this what it feels like to be high? I took all my meds today! Oh, but I WAS off my antipsychotics for, like, two weeks because I’m a piece of shit who doesn’t refill her scripts on time! I think I’m having a breakdown. I’m so sorry. I’m going to bed. I have tomorrow off. I’m gonna sleep as much as I can and wake up feeling like a zombie. I hope grandma is here tomorrow so I don’t wake up alone cuz i’ll freeak out. Good night! Stay Safe!

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